#//the fact he can stand at all is a miracle in and of itself :(

[ghoulphile]

sticky fingers | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; mildly dubious consent, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, rough sex, size kink, standing doggystyle, overstimulation, teasing, choking, dacryphilia, cooper howard is his own warning (he nasty y'all), canon compliant - takes place around ep 7, a grab bag mix of the show and the games ➥ summary | “Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.” ➥ notes | i love my men like i love my beef jerky 🫠 i wrote this over 16 fevered hours after finishing the finale. hope you enjoy~ minor edits 4/22/24 | x posted to ao3 | masterlist | feedback is always appreciated ❤️ feel free to send in thots, questions, requests!

It begins, as most things in the Southwest Commonwealth do, with a fight for survival.

City life is tough to be sure, but here on the outskirts of pocket civilizations where there’s nothing but long stretches of desolate wasteland - arid, sunbaked earth and scorched shrubbery - for miles around?

Well, if the ferals, fiends, and super mutants don’t get you in the night, then the desert itself will. During the day the sun burns overhead so nuclear hot, heat glimmers on the horizon in dancing waves.

Unforgiving, relentless as blink-and-you-miss-it mirages are swallowed by ever shifting sands.

It’s easy to get lost.

Even easier to boil alive in your armor if you’re unprepared.

Far too many travelers from the Eastern Commonwealths have met their demise here, where shade is sparse, and water even moreso. The rain - if it does blow in over the mountains - brings rad sickness.

If you’re lucky enough to still be alive, the only reprieve from the heat is in the stooped bones of bombed buildings and ramshackle shacks... where you're just as likely to catch a knife in the back from a chem fried addict as you are relief.

Because here, in the Wastes, danger lurks in sand and shadow alike.

You don’t trek out into the flats half-cocked: a fact all locals know. And if you do decide to? Well, you learn one way or another.

No, only the truly ignorant - or the desperate - dare to tempt man and nature.

Consequently, as you dust off the crumbs from the last half of a Fancy Lads Snack Cake and suck a melted smear of icing from your thumb, you're of the latter half.

You tried holding off for as long as you could. But once the shakes started, you knew you couldn’t put off eating lest you pass out and wake up in a slaver camp.

Well, shit, you think as you rattle a dented canister of purified water. This fucking sucks.

Almost going cross-eyed, your tongue hovers under the rim as you watch the last lazy drop fall free. You catch it with a grimace, smacking your lips. The water tastes metal warm in your sour mouth, barely enough to wet your whistle - let alone your thirst.

You began rationing the last of your supplies days ago, and it’s been a battle against light-headedness ever since. Pretty soon you won’t have the strength to defend yourself, scavving be damned.

Come on. Think - gotta think. What can I scrap for caps?

Not only is Filly more than half a day away, Ma June isn’t one for charity cases. The fact she offered twenty extra caps last time for some burnt books and bent bobby pins was as close as you were ever going to get to a Wasteland miracle.

Sunken cheeks and pleading eyes can only get you so far; everyone’s gotta eat.

"Fuck..." The palms of your hands grind into your eye sockets until you see stars. "FUCK!"

There are two unspoken laws in this otherwise lawless land: steal or starve, live or die. A grim reminder that surrounds you in old bleached bones, empty bullet casings, and scraps of cloth fluttering in the breeze.

Someone always has to be top dog. If you’re lucky, they might be willing to share their spoils.

It’s as you’re considering what pieces of yourself you’re willing to barter that you see them. On the horizon, coming from the west, are two dark blobs.

Stark against the flat plains - a shining beacon of salvation - is a man in a ratty duster and cowboy hat. The saddlebag tossed over his shoulder bounces with his steps while a dog trots beside him, its sable coat rippling with muscle.

Pay dirt.

Making sure to keep low and distant, you stalk them. Watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

When the sun dips low, the sky a swath of pale pink and gold, they make camp at a blown-out Drumlin Diner. Off in the distance, thunder rumbles and sickly clouds gather.

Dark and roiling, acid green; a Radstorm brewing.

Electricity cracks at your skin, stands your hair on end. You scrub your hands over your arms, huddling into yourself for warmth. Meanwhile, the stranger seems to luxuriate in the budding promise of rad rain.

He lounges under an awning, his back pressed against a defunct Nuka Cola fridge. He gazes in the direction of the oncoming weather while mindlessly running his fingers through the dog’s fur as it curls up against his legs.

Occasionally, its ears twitch, and its eyes crack open.

Whenever it glances in your direction, you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut but it never gives any other indication that it notices your presence.

A small mercy you’re thankful for.

While you’re a pretty good shot, your body is weak with hunger. Besides, you have quick hands and light feet. There’s no doubt you can stealth your way in and out before he realizes his pack is lighter than he left it.

You’ll only take what you need - not interested in causing any more trouble than is necessary. Some food, maybe something to drink if he can spare it, and something to pawn. Just enough supplies to get you sorted in Filly.

Anyway, he certainly isn’t hurting for it by the look of things.

Any guilt you felt was short-lived when he settled down after dropping his pack inside, walking out with an inhaler of Jet in one hand and a can of Cram in the other.

Watched, greedy, as he cracked it open and picked at the tin of meat with lazy fingers. Salivated as he sucked them clean in between deep pulls of chem.

Soon, you decide, licking your lips as he chews, swallows. Soon.

However when push comes to shove, the stranger proves far more keen than you give him credit for.

The world spins like a hit of Daytripper, a kaleidoscope of color as your skull bounces off the wall with a loud crack. Air rushes from your lungs as something huge - hot and heavy - slams into you from behind.

Pins you against the wall with ease as your ears ring.

Something rattles loose; your teeth too large and your tongue too thick. Warm metal floods your mouth as the side of your face throbs in time with the rabbit fast stutter of your heartbeat.

Pain sparks and your stomach rolls.

"Wha's?" you slur, thoughts dripping like wax. "Wh-at's..."

Meanwhile, a gloved hand lassos around your throat like a collar. Brute fingers squeeze the tender flesh of your jugular until you hear your pulse in your ears. Senses struggling - sluggish to adjust in the encroaching night - as tiny cavities eat at your vision, little pockets of darkness.

“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal," a gruff voice mocks. “Betcha thought you was real slick, huh? Tch. You ask me, you’re dumber than shit, Darlin'.”

Trying to regain your bearings, you shake your head only to groan. “I don’t - ‘m not -” It’s difficult to concentrate, a throbbing tempo taking up residence in your temples. The words come slow. “Wha’d you mean?”

He whistles, long and low-pitched, "D’ya have any idea who you're fucking with?"

“N-No…”

“How’s about I show you, then?”

Warm breath puffs over the shell of your ear, a tongue sliding out to trace along the lobe. You jolt, squirming in discomfort as he crowds closer.

“Tasty lil thing like you, wrapped up all nice and pretty just for me." He chuckles. "Why, it must be Christmas.”

What the hell is he talking about?

It’s hard to breathe with his heavy weight suffocating you; the scent of gunpowder and bitter smoke clogging your nostrils with every labored inhale. His lips - ragged - scrape over the nape of your neck.

The grip on your throat squeezes once, twice; leather sticks to your sweaty skin.

You squint your sore eyes, taking in the faint flickers of firelight that spill through the open doorway. The desert chill of night has settled in, creeping through the busted out windows to dig beneath your padded armor.

Thunder rumbles directly overhead as lightning follows in flashes of acid green. It’s only a matter of time before sheets of rain come pouring down; the air sticky with humidity, trembling with energy.

The Radstorm has finally arrived.

You’ll undoubtedly get sick if you leave the shelter of the diner - might even die from it if you can’t afford or find any RadAway. But as the stranger’s chest digs into your shoulders, and the dog curls up in the corner - uncaring of your plight as its nose tucks into the whip-thin tail - you think you’ll take your chances.

Tilting back to glance at him from over your shoulder through damp eyes, you say, “Look--”

Only his hand moves, viper quick, as it slides from the front of your neck to the nape. Strong fingers clamp down like a vice, like scuffing an unruly dog.

He grinds your face into the wall, rough metal shredding your cheek.

You cry out, a soft, pained little thing that echoes through the empty diner.

“Now why’d you gotta go an' make me do that?”

A phantom glimpse told you all you needed to know; broad jaw, thin lips, a hollow nasal ridge, creeping radiation burns and cracked skin. Ghoul.

“Let’s try this again, Sugar.”

His free hand - sans glove - creeps over the curve of your hip to splay along the swell of your belly, fingers tucking up under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at the stroke of roughened skin.

“Don’t take another peep or I might jus' have ta pluck out those pretty eyes of yours.”

Dread pools low in your gut, a leaden ball.

Everything in you screams: RUN, RUN, RUN.

Alarms blare but you freeze. Stare straight ahead at the featureless wall, eyes wide and unseeing. Through the foggy mire of your thoughts - half formed and shapeless - you have enough presence to understand the precarious nature of your position. 

Heart hammering, you plead for mercy, “Please, I’m - I’m sorry.”

"Aw, ain't that real sweet?" He remains impassive, unmoved. "The little thief does got some manners after all."

Without warning, the sharp toe of his cowboy boot kicks apart your feet. In the ensuing empty space between your thighs, his leg slots into place. Spurs dig into the tender meat of your ankle, little kisses of pain, as his hips rut forward against your ass.

You choke on your spit, pulse jumping in your throat.

"H-Hey, that's..." You attempt to shove at any part of him you can reach to no avail. Built and broad with compact muscle, it's like trying to move a brick wall. "I said I was sorry, okay!"

He ignores you, burying his face into the space behind your ear. A deep inhale sounds next to your head, the expansion of his chest against your back so firm you're not sure you won't fuse together.

The whiskey rough groan he releases does wicked things, makes your mind wander to places it shouldn't. Full of grit and gravel as his cock twitches against your backside, a burning line of heat.

A shiver ricochets down your spine.

He grunts, says, "Mm, you smell good enough ta eat."

The cap of his knee nudges up against your clit with a sudden jolt, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a sob threatens to scrape its way up from the depths of your throat.

You swallow, mouth desert dry. "Come on, let's just forget all about this, yeah?" you reason. "No harm done. I'll even give you whatever I've got left so - so..."

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, the vibration rattling through your chest. "So?" he prompts, plucking at the waistband of your trousers.

"So let me go?"

"Now why would I go an' do an asinine thing like that?" he replies. "If you think you can buy your freedom, think again, Sweetheart."

Rain pings off the metal roof, the smell of pungent ozone and rusting metal wafting in through busted windows and open doors.

“'Sides,” he pauses to turn your attention outside, “I’d hate ta have you yakin’ before the fun’s even started.”

There’s no way to misconstrue his meaning when he punctuates the statement with a teasing rut of his hips. Those rugged fingers tug open the clasp of your trousers, yank until the material goes slack and pools around your ankles.

“Hey, wait--!”

You jolt, hands scrambling for purchase as he slides his leg against your core. The friction of his pants through your thin cotton underwear makes you ache.

Ripping through your bottom lip, blood beading to the surface, you choke on a high-pitched whimper. "I..."

There's no way he can't feel your reaction.

How quickly you're getting wet as he drags you along the length of his thigh while yanking your hips back into the cradle of his pelvis. You meet him in a slow grind that boils your blood and steals the breath from your lungs.

It’s been - shit - far too long since you’ve felt anything other than hunger, thirst; the animal drive to keep pushing forward.

"You like this, don'tcha?"

You hear the dagger-sharp smile hidden in his words.

He croons, "What would your fellow smoothies think, huh? Here you are lettin’ a ghoul get you all hot n bothered - and you’re lovin’ it. Ain't you?"

You throb in response, heat stealing its way into your cheeks as you turn your head away in shame. His dark chuckle lets you know he felt the squeeze of your thighs, the rock and dip of your hips against his knee.

"I - I don't..." you stutter, struggling for a retort. “I’m not--”

A tremble works its way through your body, crushed as you are between the rad warm burn of his body and the wall. Completely at his mercy as you try to figure out where it all went wrong and what you can do to worm your way out of this one.

Terrified of what'll happen if you stay, terrified of what'll happen if you go; stuck in limbo as what was meant to be a simple grab-and-dash devolved into this confusing cluster of shame and lust.

You loathe the embers of desire kindling to life low in your belly.

"You really outta start bein' more honest, Sweetheart."

A large hand dips beneath the worn band of your underwear, and you wait with baited breath. Helpless as calloused fingertips brush over the swell of your mond.

Your inner thighs are uncomfortably sticky with slick, and your eyes burn in humiliation. Your throat trembles around all the words you want to say.

"Didn't anyone teach you lyin' was bad?" he asks rhetorically as his fingers slip down to play with the swollen bud of your clit, tapping lightly.

You keen, low and wounded.

Short nails dig into your palms as you flex your hands for want of something to grab onto.

“I am being honest,” you bite out through grit teeth. Sweat dapples your furrowed brow. “Just lemme go, please.”

"I find that hard ta believe," he replies. "Sorry to say, but you're shit at lyin'. Just look how hungry your lil cunt is for me."

It’s the only warning you get before those long digits plunge deep inside, two becoming three as they stretch you wide. Hollow you out; knuckles massaging your entrance as the tips prod along the sensitive front wall of your cunt.

You clamp down with a strangled moan. “Shit!”

This is a horrible idea - but it’s been forever and a day since you’ve felt anything other than your own touch.

Whether it be the bone-deep loneliness you’ve been shoving down for months or the sudden, inexplicable need for contact, you long for a reminder that you’re still alive.

That you’re not some wrath of the Wasteland filled with sand and blood, doing whatever it takes to survive in a place that would rather see you fail.

“I - I’m not sure.”

He snorts but offers no council or reassurances, using his free hand to yank at the back of your head in impatience. While it might’ve been a fairer fight if you weren’t in such bad shape, there’s no denying that he’s proven himself to be more adept.

Stronger, quicker.

This is going to happen either way.

And that turns you on - even though you feel like it shouldn’t.

If you give in, if he forces you to give in, it’s not really your fault then, is it? You can enjoy it because you have no choice.

Fuck it, you think, closing your eyes and tilting your head to the side in submission.

Like a doll with cut strings, all the fight drains from your body and you’re left sharing space. The ghoul is a furnace of heat behind you, barely any space to breathe he’s crowded so close.

His cock thickens where it digs into the soft fat of your ass, as large and intimidating as the man himself. “Now stay still for me.”

The or else goes unspoken.

Then he’s stepping away, a rush of cold air filling the empty space at your back.

You shiver, tempted to turn around. Maybe make a run for it. The only thing stopping you is the awareness that his threats aren’t so idle. In your experience, it’s far better to befriend the monster than to anger it.

So you comply, waiting an eternity as your senses strain to pick up on anything other than the murmuring hush of rain, the rumble of thunder, as the Radstorm continues to blow its way through.

Though just when you think he might’ve left, ready to chance moving, you hear the clink of a belt buckle clicking open. The scuff of boots across the linoleum before broad hands shove up under your shirt, scarred palms bare as they settle on your hips.

You tense before forcing yourself to relax.

“You ain’t as stupid as I thought,” he says. “Good girl.”

A test.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I can listen,” you mumble, keeping calm as his hands explore the plains of your stomach, pluck at the waistband of your panties. “Promise ‘m not gonna do anything else.”

Learned my lesson the first time. Got my skull cracked open for it.

“That’s what I like ta hear.”

Without warning, your panties are being ripped from you, scraps of fabric fluttering useless to the floor. You squawk in indignation but then a heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades.

He presses down, and you follow without complaint, finding yourself bent in half.

And then the fat head of his cock is right there, teasing at your entrance. He plays with your cunt, slipping the shaft between your wet folds. Dragging up the length of you to tap at your swollen clit.

Jerking in his hold, you whine and try to bear down with all your weight. “Please,” you squirm. “Please, c’mon…”

His grip remains firm, bruising as he exhales next to your ear, a pleased little grumble. “Thatta girl. Now tell me, who’s my pretty lil thief?”

Every hard ridge of his body bites into the softness of yours, your stiff nipples dragging against the rough material of your shirt. Zings of pleasure shoot through you; bursting in your bloodstream, fizzy like warm Nuka Cola.

“I-”

“Go on now, Sweetheart: say it.” Fingers dig into your hips so hard your bones ache. “Or I jus' might be tempted ta take a bite outta your pretty lil backside instead.”

He’s bluffing, you think, half delirious, … Right? He wouldn’t--

You swallow, throat clicking, and squirm against him.

Is that a chance you’re willing to take?

No, no it’s not.

“Y-Yours - I’m - I’m your little thief.”

The unexpected flare of satisfaction in his voice is almost your undoing. A hand pets down your flank, swatting the outside of your thigh playfully.

“Good girl.” He demands, “Say it again.”

Sharp hip bones kick forward against your ass as he lines himself up and starts to bully his way inside.

“I’m - YOURS!”

Your soft, gummy walls flutter, squeeze until giving in with a pop under the hard pressure of the fat head. His cock stretches you out, thick and girthy.

Ridges of scar tissue and patches of rough friction pockmark his shaft, massaging tender places as he fills you up, fucking you open.

He feeds you inch after inch… until he can’t.

“Wait!”

Accommodating his girth is a struggle, your cunt filled to the brim by the time he’s halfway inside. No amount of slick could make him fit, so he makes do with harsh little jerks of his hips. Forces himself deeper and deeper until he glides home nice and smooth, sheathing himself to the base with a sigh of satisfaction.

You clamp down hard with a hiccupy whine, walls furtively trying to push him out. “A-Ah!”

“Goddamn,” he huffs, hands kneading your ass, “You’re a tight fit.”

Tears prick your lash line, your hips shifting as you try to stop him from moving. Begging for a moment of reprieve. You’ve never taken something so big and thick, so textured before.

Coupled with the minimal foreplay, it feels like he’s punched his way through your body. Hollowed you out to make a home for himself.

Pussy aching, a low burning tightness creeps over your lower belly as tender flesh pulses uncomfortably around the unforgiving heft of his cock seated deep inside. You swear you feel him poking your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, heat settling into your cheeks. “J-Just wait a sec-ond! I can’t - oh shit.” 

“Aw, look at you.” Fingers reach around to brush over your cheeks, gather the tears that’ve slipped free. “Didn’t mean ta make you cry,” he lies.

The sound of him sucking his fingers clean reaches your ears. Your stomach swoops, and your clit throbs. Dazed as you wonder what his mouth would feel like on your pussy.

"Hah - too much, you're - fuck - you're too big."

He snickers. “Can’t be helped, I guess.” Body rippling in a shrug, his hands re-settling on your hips. “But that’s all right - I like it better when they cry.”

Before you can retort, he pulls his hips back.

Your toes curl in your boots, feet squeaking across the linoleum floor as your sweaty forehead grinds into the cool metal of the wall. The texture of his shaft burns as it slides through your swollen folds, dragging against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed.

You can’t tell if it’s the best you’ve ever felt or the worst, but you nearly sob all the same, nerves alight with liquid fire. Want him as deep inside as he can go; a frenzy of desperation that needs him to stuff you so full you choke.

“See for all your whining, you’re takin’ me so well. What did I say about bein' honest?”

You sniffle, blurry eyes creaking open to stare out the window.

Your body throbs in time with your pulse, your pussy so stretched out you can’t clench down when he thrusts in deep. The fat mushroom head teases your cervix, a faint whisper, before he’s drawing back again.

“T-Too fast,” you stutter, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. Your thighs tremble, knees going soft. “Slow down, slow down.”

“Sh, you can take it. I know you can.”

With a grunt, he surges forward. Wasting no time in starting up a brutal pace that rattles your bones. He drives you hard into the side of the diner; tits crushed and face smashed, a disgusting mixture of tears and drool wetting your cheek.

“Just like that, Sweetheart.”

You do little more than hold on, all thoughts driven from your mind as he fucks you swollen and bruised. Cunt a sticky mess as your slick eases the way, clinging to your inner thighs and dripping down his heavy balls.

Every thrust punches little sounds from you, and he grunts. “Fuck!”

Your hands cling to the sides of his hips, focusing on the shift of muscle beneath heavy fabric. “I can’t,” you slur, eyes cloudy as you glance up into his, gazes meeting for the first time. “Please, I - ah!”

His thrusts turn punishing, even more so than they already were, hips meet your ass with enough force to leave bruises. “What did I say about sneakin' a peek?”

While the words sound threatening, his voice is heated and breathy. For all his talk, he doesn’t look away. In fact, his hips slow into languid rolls, grinding close. When your eyes slide from his, he reaches down to pinch your clit between his fingers.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides. “You keep those eyes on me.”

Pretty, you think, dazed.

Glinting in the slants of firelight like wet sand or a Nuka Cola bottle in the sun; bourbon warm as they peer at you from beneath a heavy brow bone.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl."

Eyes fluttering when he flexes his hips in reward, the tip massaging along your g-spot, your mouth drops open on a whine.

“O-Oh! Right there, I - fuck, please don’t stop. ‘m so close.” F-Feels s'good.

His bare hand reaches up to curl around your jaw, gnarled fingers pushing their way past the open circle of your swollen lips. They compress your tongue as they gather saliva, stroking along your tastebuds.

Gritty, rough; he tastes of dirt, blood, and gunpowder.

You sneak a kiss to his scarred knuckle when he pulls free.

“Shit, I’ll be damned. You’re just a nasty lil freak, ain't you?”

You moan in response, stretching up on your tip-toes and arching your hips to change the angle. Your palms rest beside your head, docile.

A crazed grin cracks the corners of his lips, his teeth bared like an animal. “I like that,” he husks. “Now be a peach…”

Then those soaked digits are finding their way between your thighs, ghosting over your skin to smear spit onto your abused clit. The tender bud throbs beneath his fingertips, swollen and begging for attention.

He hitches his hips forward to feel you jerk, pulsing beneath his touch as he resumes a fast, jolting pace that has you smacking into the wall.

“And cum for me.”

A deep rumble escapes his throat, the sloppy, wet sounds of him fucking you ringing loud in your ears. Your hips roll, unsure if you want to press forward into the swirl of his fingers or back into the rut of his cock.

Tears stream down your cheeks, your chest heaving with weak sobs.

“Please,” you whine, his shaft pinching your walls uncomfortably. You feel swollen, rubbed raw. “A-Almost there.”

A nip to the ear is all it takes.

“Hhaah, I’m--!”

The liquid heat that’s been pooling low in your belly - building and building - finally bursts in a gush of slick that soaks his hand. Darkens the crotch of his pants as it drips down your thighs to splash against the tile.

You sob, a full body tremor zipping through you like bottled lightening.

In the aftermath, your cunt twitches in time with your heartbeat. Hands numb and head full of cotton as cramps bloom between your hips. Sharp little stabs shoot up behind your navel.

“Shit, I’ve got myself a gusher,” he laughs, a nasty little smirk tugging at his lips. “Look at the mess you made. Now if you ask real sweet-like, maybe I’ll let you clean it up with your tongue.”

You sag, too boneless to be ashamed as electric aftershocks tingle along your nerves. All the while, his pace never falters, quickly fucking you into overstimulation.

Your clit twitches pathetically when the fat head of his cock drags along your g-spot. "No more," you mumble weakly, letting him maneuver your body how he likes. "Please."

“Heh, let’s see if you can do that again.”

You whimper, “Oh, oh, please n-no. I - I can’t. You’ll break me.”

“That’s real cute,” his lips, harsh and rasping, drag over the shell of your ear, “but I wasn’t askin’.”

The grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain, digging in and marking you up.

“Now, why don’ we have some real fun, Darlin'?”

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Multiverse Police (pt. 2)

"You said you're going to ask questions, then can we ask questions?" Superman really tries to be polite here because, first, he was raised by Kents and, second, Jazz and the whole interdimensional police thing looks non-hostile. At least now.

The redhead nods, "Sure, ask away, I'll answer everything I can." Then, she notices Batman reaching to touch the green shield and makes a soft, warning noise, "Ah, sorry, please don't touch it. I can show how it works later, but it's not meant to keep you out. It's to keep everything else in."

Batman reluctantly puts his head down and turns to her.

"Elaborate."

The sci-fi ship in the air makes a loud hissing sound, like compressed air being released, and the bottom part of it slides open. Jazz nods in the direction of the now open ship.

"You know what they say, it's better to see it once than to hear it ten times."

There are three humanoid figures standing in there. All of them are mostly monochrome, black and white clothes, starkling white hair. They look like one adult and two children, but it's one of the kids who raises his hands to his mouth and yells so loud everyone in three miles radius is able to hear him:

"Step away from the shield, please, shit's about to get real!"

None of the heroes move, but Jazz does take a few steps away. Wonder Woman, after a moment of hesitation, follows her example.

A mechanical voice comes from the ship itself, "Countdown to the breach. Five... Four..."

On 'three,' all three of the monochrome figures step out from the ship. But, before any of the heroes have time to worry, they all float in the air, undeterred by gravity, and the ship door closes behind them.

The countdown reaches 'one'. And in the next moment, it looks like the hell breaks loose.

Countless giant vines shoot out from the portal up, reaching for the ship. True to what the red hoverboarder said, they are very much toothy, every vine splitting in two and attempting to bite the ship like some twisted idea of scissors.

None of them reach it.

The oldest of three kids claps his hands, and a wall of raging fire descends on the vines, throwing them off. In the next moment, the trio falls apart, flying through the lovecraftian mess of carnivorous plants with practiced ease, the younger ones using what looks like icicles and little storms.

"Who are they?" Batman asks Jazz, following the youngest one's - the only girl among the three - movements as she creates a strong gust of wind with a wave of her hand. None of the vines or attacks get past the shield, though.

"My siblings," the girl answers, pointing her hand at the oldest one, "That's Dan. He's the most violent. One time, he destroyed our original world, but that timeline doesn't exist anymore." She then points to the girl, "That's Dani, the youngest. She rarely joins the crew lately. And she is actually a clone, but at this point, most of us have been cloned once or twice, so it's not a big deal anymore." She then points her finger to the last one, a boy that flies past them quicker than a lightning, freezing everything he touches, "And this is Danny. He is the most powerful one. Technically, he could have just ended the fight with one Wail, but kids like to have fun. Also, they don't get to show off their elemental powers a lot, so they are mostly being dramatic for you."

She says all this so easily, just like a matter of fact, and it is at this moment that the members of JL realize the sheer power of whoever these people are. When she casually told them she bested Superman, it could have been written as a coincidence, a joke. But this?

Dan growls as one of the vines scratches his shoulder. He bleeds green, but it's only for a second before both the wound and the suit knit themselves back together. This is not just a simple accelerated healing, it almost looks like a miracle.

"Oi, brats, I'm done with show off, get out of the way!" He yells at the other two, and Danny and Dani quickly follow the order, flying closer to him and behind his back.

"Cover your ears," Jazz tells the heroes around her, and puts her helmet back on, as Dan takes a deep breath and screams.

It hurts even those who follow Jazz's advice. Batman feels like his eardrums are about to be shattered for the lack of better word. But the vines like the sonic attack even less - most of them subdue and pull back inside the portal, and the rest is dissipating like they are being burned from the inside out.

And then, just like it began, the scream - the wail - stops. The silence feels deafening after the end of it, but slowly, the sounds return, and the JL watches Danny flying down to the center of the portal. He puts his hands on the surface of it, and for a long moment, nothing happens.

And then the Pit starts closing up.

Or, no, it is Danny who absorbs it, the green flowing up through his hands, his veins that start glowing the same green. His eyes become the same toxic color, with no whites and no irises, just glowing green all over, and his hair shimmers like stars.

A few minutes later, the portal is gone, like it never even existed, and Danny plants his feet on the ground and stretches, like one would do after a good rest.

"Oof, that was nice!" He turns to the other two, who are still up in the air, "Do you want some?"

Dan flips him off before going back to the ship, but Dani floats down to him and extends her hands out.

"Sure. I like getting it from you better than from the portal itself anyway. Gives it a sparkling taste, like Sprite," she chuckles. Danny takes her hands in his, and the green glow slowly makes its way through their joined palms, now flowing through the girl’s body.

"What are they?" Flash whispers, horrified, but Jazz hears it nonetheless and turns her head to him, taking her helmet off once again.

"That is not a very appropriate question," she chastises and smiles at their faces, "But it's okay, I get it. They are ghosts. Or ectoplasmic entities, or halfas, or highly liminal beings. Or, if you want a very simplified version, they are dead kids who are enjoying their afterlife a little too much."

"Dead?" Batman zeros on the word, snapping his eyes at the girl. She smiles, and for the first time, it doesn't look human. Her teeth are too sharp, her grin too wide, and her eyes are suddenly not just teal, but neon bright and glowing, with vertical irises.

"Most of us are dead in one way or another. And I do not mean it in a metaphorical sense."

-------------------

What I'm thinking is they have a whole system going on. Amity Park generally resides in the Realms, but from time to time, they decide they want to go on a vacation, as a whole town, and they pop into existence on one of the Earths. They don't really care for the universe or dimension they end up in, as long as it is more or less peaceful (as in, no active wars going on right where they pop up), has sunlight and nice weather.

The GIW is taking care of legal things - imagine US government reaction when a whole ass town just boom, starts existing in a place where nothing existed before? So GIW does all the paperwork and discussions. Also, they are doing their basic research on the dimension they end up in, for science purposes.

I'm thinking Vlad is still a mayor of Amity. And sometimes, when a particular dimension is rather annoying, he straight up possesses the authorities because he hates official talks and couldn't care less for morals if he tried for a week. The GIW scolds him, but don't really say no. It's not a good solution to the problem, but hey, it works.

Meanwhile, Fentons are doing ectoplasmic research. They scan the dimension for troubles, basically, looking for natural portals and ghosts causing ruckus. Jazz is almost always the one who does the talking to the heroes native to the dimension - she is the one who has the most patience and social skills. Jack is in charge of transportation and Maddie is the head of biological, ecto-biological and other species research. Tucker is the tech specialist, of course - he is the sole reason why Amity has wi-fi wherever they go. Val and her father are, kind of, protectors? Security? But for the whole town, yeah. They do have GIW agents as subordinates.

Dani is not always living in Amity, she travels the Realms most of the time, but she joins when something interesting happens. Dan is, like, on an eternal probation period, GIW and Fentons keep an eye on him, but he is one of the heavy hitters for when shit goes down.

Danny is living his best life, he is mainly the protector spirit of Amity, but he also gets to protect all the dimensions from ghosts! He helps anyone and everyone - one day he is working with Val on defenses for their main ship they use to travel inside dimensions, and the next day he is joining Maddie in her studies of new species found.

Oh, I forgot Sam. She is probably the one responsible for the magic stuff - mostly everyone else focuses on scientific aspects, but she is the one to research on occult things.

| <- prev | next -> |

[colonelarr0w]

Geto, Gojo, and Choso with an s/o going out for a girls night with her friends but her dress is VERRRRY short. :))

A/N : STOP BECAUSE I WAS KICKING MY FEET AND TWIRLING MY HAIR THE ENTIRE TIME THAT I WAS WRITING THIS.

Includes - Suguru Geto, Satoru Gojo, Choso Kamo

Warning(s) - suggestive content, foul language, Gojo is a WHORE (what else is new honestly)

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

“Fuck me!” 

Suguru’s ears perk at the sound of your frustrated voice, head tilting curiously as he glances up from his phone. He stands from his position on the couch, slowly entering your shared bedroom and watching as you pull down the back of your dress.  

Judging by your irritated tone and stiffened body language, it wasn’t the first or the second time that you had tugged your dress down.  

“Everything okay in here baby?” Suguru inquires from the door, forcing his eyes to meet your own as opposed to wandering down. The last thing that he wanted was to be on the receiving end of your wrath — the last time that had happened, he had been placed on a week long sex ban.  

To say he barely survived that would be the understatement of the century.  

“Just this stupid dress,” you bite out angrily, slapping your hands against your thighs in defeat. You had accidentally ordered the dress a size too small, but it hadn’t looked that short when you laid it out over your bed.  

But now that you were wearing it, it continued to ride up with every single one of your movements, nearly exposing your entire backside.  

The fact that you hadn’t ripped the dress to shreds with your bare hands was a miracle in it of itself.  

Suguru finally allows his eyes to rake up and down your figure, admiring the way that the dress hugs your curves while still remaining elegant. The straps are loose over your shoulders, intentionally of course and the dress’ corset only makes you look that much better.  

But you don’t see it that way, instead, you see the dress as an inconvenience that is only making you more and more late for your girls’ night with Shoko and Utahime.  

In the reflection of the mirror, you can see Suguru watching you hungrily, a look that goes directly to your core. You can feel your face warming underneath his gaze, and you know that silently, he’s trying to make you even more late than you already were.  

“Don’t look at me like that,” you whine, turning to look at Suguru. He crosses his arms, still leaning against the doorframe and smirking at you. He doesn’t fail to notice the way your thighs rub against one another, no doubt trying to provide yourself with the tiniest bit of friction.  

“Oh? And why’s that?” he teases you, raising an eyebrow. You fight back the urge to roll your eyes, knowing the action would only dig you into a deeper hole.  

“You’re going to make me late,” you point out, turning back to the full-body mirror. You grab the bottoms of your dress again, tugging downward sharply and hoping that it would stay. But of course, the moment that you straighten your back, the dress rides up.  

This time however, Suguru doesn’t bite his tongue.  

“I’m not going to make you late, but that dress sure will,” Suguru steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you. His arms wrap loosely around your waist, tugging your back against his chest whilst his chin hooks over your shoulder.  

You let out a sigh, body relaxing against Suguru’s while one of his hands begins to slowly drift lower, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. “Suguru-“ 

“Hmm?” he hums, raising an eyebrow at you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, biting back the desperate whimper that claws at the base of your throat. He smiles at the look on your face, keeping his fingers right against the inside of your thigh.  

“I’m definitely going to be late now,” you sigh, leaning your head back so that it hits against Suguru’s shoulder. He grins in victory, then hooking his arms beneath you and swiftly lifting you from the ground.  

“That you are,” he agrees, all the while you giggle at your boyfriend’s antics.  

“Babe, Shoko texted you again. Do you want me to answer for you—?” Satoru cuts himself off as he enters your bedroom, standing slack-jawed in the doorframe as you continue to get ready, having not heard your boyfriend enter.  

You smooth your hands over your dress, turning your body in a circle to admire yourself in your room’s full-body mirror. An approving smile curls the corner of your lips upward. You had put so much time and effort into your hair, makeup, and outfit — to have it pay off was one of the most rewarding feelings.  

“Satoru? Everything okay?” you ask suddenly, having finally noticed your snowy-haired boyfriend standing in the doorframe of your bedroom. His jaw is still practically on the floor, arms hanging limply at his sides as he simply stares at you — it’s almost unsettling, really.  

He swallows the lump in his throat, suddenly aware of how tight his pants feel. And as badly as he wants to pounce on you, he knew that you would protest under the reason that Shoko would have your head if you were late to another girl’s night.  

“Yeah! Yeah, everything’s good,” he nods quickly, clearing his throat and doing his best to play off the way that he had been ogling at you.  

Curiously, you raise an eyebrow at him, but you say nothing in response. You turn back to the mirror, lifting your hands to your hair and smoothing it out, making sure that no strand was out of place.  

Satoru swallows again, glancing down at your phone in his hand before tossing it on the bed, then following it and laying on his stomach on the bed. Though laying on his stomach was uncomfortable, he wouldn’t dare admit that simply looking at you had gotten him hard.  

“Are you sure that everything is okay Satoru?” you inquire from your place in the front of the mirror, not failing to notice how he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you — not that that was an uncommon occurrence anyway.  

Shaking his head and forcing his gaze up to meet your own, Satoru nods quickly — almost too quickly to even be considered human.  

You hum, already feeling a smirk curl the corner of your lips upward as you turn to face him, being sure to sway your hips as you walk over to your bed.  

You reach your hands down, cupping the sides of Satoru’s face and guiding his gaze to meet yours, an action that he follows without an ounce of hesitation.  

“You really are a terrible liar,” you murmur, taking note of your boyfriend’s half-lidded eyes and the small purse of his lips. You lean down, slotting your lips against his own and smiling against him at the moan that he releases into your mouth.  

He leans further into you, pushing himself up onto his knees and wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you against him.  

You pull back from him to catch your breath, not failing to notice the small whine that your action pulls from the back of Satoru’s throat.  

“I can’t be late again,” you point out, finding yourself smiling as Satoru’s lust-blown eyes flicker about your expression, deflating when he realizes that you’re being serious.  

“Please? It won’t be that late,” Satoru whispers, tucking his face into the crook of your neck and placing sloppy kisses against the skin there. He smirks against you at the shiver that runs up your spine. 

You sigh, disconnecting Satoru from your neck and placing your hands against his cheeks again. He tilts his head at you, feigning innocence as you playfully glare down your nose at him.  

“Fine,” you relent, craning your neck and pressing your lips to Satoru, allowing him to tug you onto your bed.  

You ended up being two hours late to girl’s night — much to the displeasure of Shoko. 

“Choso, honey, could you come in here for a second?” you call sweetly from your bedroom, smoothing your hands over the front of your dress. You find yourself smiling at the sound of hurried footsteps growing louder, and in a matter of seconds, Choso is standing in the doorframe of your bedroom.  

He pauses at the sight in front of him. You’re standing in front of the mirror propped up against one of the bedroom walls, hair done up with a face of makeup on. You’re wearing a dress that Choso hadn’t seen before; a skintight black dress that rides up just a touch too high for his liking — but he would never tell you not to wear it.  

You turn to Choso, smiling and placing your hands on your hips — completely oblivious to the effect that you were currently having on him.  

“What do you think?” you ask him, leaning your weight to the side. Your dress follows your movement, the right side riding up to expose the skin of your thigh. Choso’s eyes flicker to the newly exposed skin, but they just as quickly return to your eyes, not wanting you to think he was ogling you.  

He swallows past the lump in his throat, while also doing his best to ignore the growing strain in his pants. He would just have to restrain himself, you had to leave in twenty minutes after all. The last thing that he wanted was to be the cause of your lateness — though he didn’t know how long he would be able to hold out once you were gone. 

“You look gorgeous,” Choso responds quickly, realizing that he had accidentally found himself caught in his own thoughts. You smile at his praise, crossing the room and lifting your arms to wrap them over his neck, nails lightly tracing the nape of his neck.  

He shivers against your fingers, biting back a moan that climbs up his throat. You smile mischievously, flashing him one of those looks — the one where he knows that you wouldn’t exactly mind being late for girl’s night.  

Choso quickly leans down, roughly pressing his lips to yours as he tugs your chest flush against his own, hands gripping at your waist while your hands tangle in his hair, tugging lightly on the strands. You receive a cracked moan into your mouth following your action — one that has you smirking against Choso’s lips.  

He steps towards your bed, lightly dragging you with him until the backs of your legs hit against the bed’s edge. Only then does he help you, hooking his hands underneath the plump of your ass and lifting you up, never once breaking the kiss.  

You pull back to inhale greedily, biting your lips together as Choso’s hands wander over the fabric of your dress, fingertips just barely grazing your skin in a way that has you shivering.  

“Mine,” he growls against you, bending his head down to press featherlight kisses against your neck, sucking at your pulse point and feeling himself smirk at your back arching in response. Your body pushes itself further into Choso’s arms — a feeling that he would never get used to but wholeheartedly appreciated.  

He pulls his lips back from your neck — that earns him a disappointed moan. Choso’s eyes flicker to meet yours, pants straining at the half-lidded look that you give him, pupils lust-blown and chest rising and falling in panted breaths.  

With you sitting on the bed and Choso standing in front of you, it grants him easy access to what he wants most. He leans forward to peck your lips again, once again feeling his pants strain at the way your mouth chases his when he pulls back from you.  

He lowers himself to his knees in front of you, sending you one last glance before his fingers push up your dress. You let out a small sigh, glancing down at Choso. 

At this point, you didn’t even mind the fact that you were forty-five minutes late. 

[helluvapoison]

Lucifer x Imp!Reader

warnings: imp bigotry, heavy topics, lowkey angsty (happy end, i swear)

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• Secret relationship, baby!

• Let’s get into the hard part first, shall we? The discrimination of Imps isn’t something Lucifer set into motion. They helped him build Hell into what it is today—! Which is… flawed. Fuck, there’s no excuse. Know that he doesn’t condone it and he’s ashamed to admit he allowed it get this far

• That saying “history repeats itself”? Yeah, Hell isn’t immune

• It’s an elephant in the room situation when your and Lucifer’s feelings come into play. Along with the enormous power imbalance. He would never take advantage of that, by the way, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s there

• Those issues are in the beginning though. Yes, it takes a lot of time and many painful conversations but now? Undoubtedly worth it

• Lucifer is quite proud of himself for the charade he concocted. You pose as his employee! No one would question it and you could hang around as much as you like! It’s perfect, right?

• “It sounds like a shitty romcom plot.” You snort

Lucifer’s smile is unwavering, eyebrows high on his face as he awaits what he longs to hear.

“But?”

Sighing, you softly return his smile, “It’s perfect.”

• And like a shitty romcom, it is

• Naturally, there’s ups and downs

• For Lucifer, the worst is that he hates keeping you a secret. It’s not that he wants to dish it live with Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench, he’s rather private as is, he’s just so— happy! He wants to show how proud he is to be yours! Unfortunately, that would do more harm for all of Hell. Selfish as his wants might be, he wouldn’t do that. Especially if it meant putting you in danger

• Occasionally he takes you to meetings and events. You try and slip into the background, supporting him from the shadows. Even from the other side of the room, Lucifer’s eyes will find you standing amongst the other Imps. He accidentally ends up ignoring whoever’s trying to rub elbows with the King of Hell

• (Honestly, it’s a miracle no one has found you two out yet. His longing gazes are far from subtle)

• Sometimes those outings don’t end well. A blue blooded dickbag might’ve dumped their drink on you or shoved you because you were “in the way” or berated you in front of everyone. Lucifer sees red and the entire event is cut short via a demonic rage. On a positive note, his publicity goes off the charts! “King of Hell defends his people, no matter the race!”

• (A motherfucking miracle, I tell you)

• Lucifer likes to take care of you when those incidents occur. He feels guilty. For everything. Reassuring him has always easy for you in any other situation. This one just bleeds into something personal. A failure

• So, you let him take care of you. It improves his mood bit by bit. Could be pancakes! No matter the time of day, Lucifer’s go-to are pancakes. (He’ll simply die all over again if you let him feed you too) Could be a bath for the two of you to share, he loves washing you and putting a bubble beard on your face

• Sleepovers can be a tad difficult to pull off but no one disturbs him in the mornings. He loves having you in his arms all night long. Kissing your horns, forehead, eyes, nose and lips— yes, in that order— before wishing you only the sweetest dreams

• Lucifer has a rubber duck that looks uncannily like you sitting on his desk at all times

• Oh! And despite being an Imp, you’re still taller than your beloved short king. It’s slight but he adores the difference

♡ a/n: if i had a nickel for every time a blue blood fell in love with an imp, i’d have /three nickels HAHAHA

[meowhara]

Mafia!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader

tw : Death, violence, mention of rape, abuse, a little bit gorey

synopsis : He welcomes you into his home but at what cost?

author's note : Fun fact I already wrote a 3k+ words sequel about Miguel being a totally adorable sweetheart for the reader. But do I like it? Nah, violence is so much better. Sorry if this took me a while, I've been busy af

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓷𝓮, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝔀𝓸, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮

Your eyes flutters open as you wake up from the longest sleep you had in a while. A massive migraine hit you hard like a brick, you winces in pain as you sit back up instead of laying on your back. It took you a while for your vision to focus until you're able to see your surroundings.

Glancing around the unfamiliar room with dim light, you're amazed by how well furnished and luxurious it is. The dirty and ugly clothes that you were wearing are gone. Replaced by a clean pair of shorts and shirt that's clearly too big for you.

The thought of your terrifying captor floods back to your mind. You look around the room for your captor. The room is oddly quiet, thank god no one is here in this room with you.

Escape is the only thing that echoes in your mind as you thought of the worst possible thing to happen if you try to escape. You never met him before, you didn't even know his name. Possibilities of things that he might be planning to do to you frightens you. What if he sell you away? Or worse, what if he is going to do what your dead master wanted him to do to you?

Your eyes are locked at the door across the room, you wonder if it's locked. But it won't hurt to try and open it right? Just when you tried to crawl off the bed, you realizes how numb your legs are. "No no, what is wrong with my legs?" Whispering to no other than yourself, you wish for your legs to somehow fix itself so it wouldn't be sore anymore.

Miracle had never happened to you before so there's no time to sob and hope anything would get any better soon. Using the neatest nightstand as your support to stand up is your only choice to push yourself back on your feet. But your legs wouldn't move at all making you fall from the bed, knocking the nightstand off including a vase that was sitting on it. It fell directly to the floor and shattered into pieces.

You panicked from how loud you're being, a loud shattering noise followed by an even louder thud can be heard from the spot you're sitting now helplessly on the floor.

Less than a second later you can hear loud and firm footsteps rushing towards the room you're in. Your breath quickens as you tried to stand back up and run but you can't, your legs still wouldn't move an inch.

The door swung open followed by Miguel, panting from how fast he ran towards the room you're in right after he heard something shattered on the floor. He looked at you with his hand still resting on the doorknob then walks towards you. Your body shakes in fear as you looks up at him with your bunny ears flat back.

He let out a low chuckle as he hovers over you, "Running away already, little one? Hmmm?" He tilts his head to the side, waiting for you to say anything. Instead of replying to his question you try and crawls away from him which obviously pissed him off, "Pathetic." He hisses at you before he lift you easily off the floor and throws you back to the bed, earning a loud yelping noise from you. He tugs on your leg, giving it a tight grip. "You know if you keep this behavior up, I might just break your legs permanently so you can't escape me at all. You don't want that do you?"

Eyes widened from his words, your gaze are now focused at your numb legs. Is he the reason why you can't walk at all? What if you can't walk anymore because of him? Tears escapes your eyes as the thoughts fills your mind. "No... Please... Not my legs." You said while sobbing, hoping that he wouldn't do such a cruel thing to you.

The second he saw you crying because of him, he lets go of your leg and took a step away. Pinching on the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes to calm himself down, he starts talking to you with a softer tone. "Look I'm sorry I scared you okay? You pissed me off every single time you try to run away from me." He looks back at you only to find you sobbing over your numb legs. A remorseful sigh escaped his mouth before he walks back over to you and start massaging your legs, making you flinched in fear from his sudden affection towards you. "It's just the drug, it hasn't warn off yet that's why your legs feels numb. Soon it'll go back to normal, trust me little one." He said before he lets your legs go then strokes your head gently, trying to calm you down.

"R— really?" You asked in between sobs. He nods and wipes your tears away with his thumbs. "I know how scared you are but please just go back to sleep, you need to rest." Shaking your head, you refuses to go back to sleep. "I don't want to."

"Why not? Is there anything wrong? It's just—" A loud growling noise from your stomach interrupts the conversation. He raised his eyebrow at you, "That's it? You're hungry?" Your face flushed red from embarrassment as you nods. He walks towards the door, "Fine, let's feed you something." He paused and looks back at you, wondering why you're still sitting on the bed. You look at him before looking back at your legs. "Right, you can't walk."

His hand find it's way under your knees and the other one behind your back before he lift you up from the bed. Carrying you isn't the hardest part, to be gentle and to not scare you off is. He carries you towards the dining room as you glances around his house, amazed. You've never been anywhere like his mansion before. Expensive paintings are hanging on the walls and other elegant decorations sits perfectly taken care of under his roof. How much money does he usually make starts to make you wonder. Countless of his men walks around the house, either just to chill and relax or working on something he asked them to do.

Multiple tall pillars stands firm up to the ceiling and the floor are made by fine and expensive marbles. Massive windows that are four times taller than you are covered with massive silver curtains, opened wide to allow sunlight in. "I can see that you enjoying the inside of my mansion." He said with so much pride before the two of you enters the dining room. He sat you down on one of the chair on the long ends of the table in the dining room.

The dining room is also luxurious and well furnished as well. With the long dining table in the middle of the room with at least a dozen of chairs to sit on. Multiple crystal chandeliers are hanging from the ceiling to lit up the entire room with some candelabras to decorate the table with candles lighting up on it. A fire place at one end of the room and a large expensive painting hanging on the other.

He sat down at the other end of the table, an arm chair prepared especially for the host or the hostess of the house. One of his servant poured him a glass of fine wine for him before walking over to your direction and did the same for you. He sips the wine right away and waits for you to do so, "Go on, try it." You look over to him nervously before taking the glass slowly with your hand and took a sip. Your bunny ears flinches from the taste of it, it's not like it tastes bad or anything it's just that you're not used to drink anything alcoholic before.

He secretly love the way you react towards the absurd taste of wine that you just tried for the first time. "Do you like it?" He asked before he took another sip, enjoying the taste of it. He has his own expensive and rare alcoholic drinks collection that he would pour for himself whenever he feel stressed and whenever he needs to relax.

"I... I like it."

"You do? Good. Pour her another glass."

"No need! I— I mean..."

You're looking for an excuse so you don't have to drink another drop of that weird redish liquid as he raised his eyebrow at you from the end of the table.

"Don't you think giving a little thing like her something alcoholic then forcing her to like it is a little bit too much, Miguel?" A lady with short brown hair waltz into the dinning room with a black shade heart framed glasses rested on her head. She walks closer to you and cupped your cheek with her hand, "Didn't know you have a thing for adorable being like her." She turn your head from side to side to get a better look of your face before touching one of your bunny ears. You flinched and whimpers from her touch, "She's sensitive huh? Are you into those fucked up kinks where you get to own one of these expensive living toys?" She teased him then let your face go but she set her eyes on you, still wondering how did a sweet thing like you ended up with such a dangerous person like him.

He let out an aggressive huff, he seems unfazed by her endless personal and frontal questions. She turned to look at him to annoy him even more, "So, have you two fu—"

"Lyla!" He roared, his voice is loud and clear across the massive dinning room. Lyla didn't flinch from Miguel's roar instead she gave him a mocking smile, "Is that a no, or...?" She paused and looks over to your direction only to find you trembling badly in your seat with your bunny ears and eyes down to avoid any eye contact. She can tell that you're very uncomfortable and scared of Miguel. Concerned by your behavior, she wants to pity you but she knew very well that she couldn't help you to find any way out to escape from him. When Miguel wanted something he'll do anything within his power to achieve it for himself and when possessiveness got the better of him, he will rip anyone into shreds if they dare to touch anything that belongs to him. Unfortunately in this case, you belongs to him.

"Forget it." She walks out from the dinning room, Miguel let out a loud sigh then taking a deep breath to calm himself down. His eyes are now focused back on you while you shift uncomfortably in your seat. No matter how much you tried you still can't understand his intention towards you.

It felt like eternity before one of his servant walks out from the kitchen with two plates of steak prepared and cooked by his professional chef that he hired to cook for his daily meals. Meaty products are not your first choice when it comes to food, it's not like your body is able to digest it anyway. So to have a whole ass steak in front of you isn't very appetizing for you. "You told me that you're hungry so stop being an ungrateful brat and eat your food." His insult made you gulp, hesitating whether to eat it or not.

"I don't think you should eat that, hun." You look up to see Lyla, "What the hell are you up to now?" He groans while rubbing his temple. She replaced the plate of steak with a bowl with varieties of fruit inside. You can feel your mouth water as you look at the cut up fruit in awe.

"Bunnies don't eat meat, you know?" She sneered at Miguel and sat down beside you to watch you eat. With a happy smile on your face, you start munching on the bowl of fruit that Lyla gave you. Miguel opens his mouth to complain but closed it back right away. He could feel like there's something wrong with him, somehow that smile of yours made his heart flutter. He never felt like this before, could something as simple as someone's smile can really make him happy? He thought to himself. The thought itself makes him wants to own you even more, to keep you here by his side forever.

He finishes his meal before standing up and left without saying anything to the both of you. Lyla shrugged, thinking that he's just pissed about the whole situation. You finished your meal a little while after him and after that Lyla help to escort you back to your room.

Hours later you woke up to some loud noises from the first floor of Miguel's mansion. This time, you're able to get up on your own feet. Curiosity got the better of you as you walks towards the bedroom door. To your surprise it opens right away with none of his men in front of your door. The whole mansion is suddenly quiet, you took it as an opportunity to run away. So you walk out from your bedroom and walks down the stairs until you reach the first floor.

His mansion is too big for you to figure out any exit, so you ended up wandering down the hall with lots of doors to your left and right. Your sensitive bunny ears fliches and stood straight up when you heard footsteps walking towards your direction so you rushed to hide inside of one of the room in that hall. You hurried to enter a random room then close the door as quiet as you can. The room you're in is pitch black with no window for sunlight to enter.

"Who the hell are you working for?!" You can hear Miguel shouting in anger from the other side of the door. The door slammed open before Miguel threw a man you've never met before into the room you're in. "You won't tell me? Fine. I'll make you tell me everything I wanted to know." You hid behind a pile of boxes as you watch the man struggling to even defend himself from Miguel's brutal force against him.

He signalled his second in command to tie the poor man on a chair before he began torturing him. Blow after blow landed on the man's face, leaving noticeable bruises that'll need weeks to recover. He winces in pain as he try to endure the physical abuse Miguel is giving to him, shutting himself up in order to protect what ever kind of information Miguel wanted to possess from him. "You're a strong one huh?" Miguel scoffed before he took a knife and carved the word "traitor" on the man's forehead, making him grunts in pain as the blood trails down from his forehead. You sat there covering your mouth with your palm with eyes wide, horrified by how cruel Miguel treats the stranger in front of you.

"After all this time I thought you're one of my most loyal men. But you're nothing but a worthless son of a bitch." Miguel spat on him, venom dripping from his words like how he mean it. "Just tell me your boss's name or I'll make the next seconds of your life a living hell." The man let out a low chuckle from Miguel's threat. "You can torture me all you want, I'm not going to tell you anything."

Miguel slapped him hard across the face, "Give me some acid." His second in command gave him a bucketful of acid and makes the tied up man struggles even more against the rope as he's looking at him in panic. "No—!" He protests. With a sadistic smirk, Miguel poured some of the acid to the man's legs. It melted through his pants before it directly melts his skin. He screams as he felt the agonizing pain on both of his legs.

Just before Miguel continue to torture him one of his subordinate walked into the room and start whispering something to him, telling him about the man's personal information including everything Miguel wanted to know about him in detail. A smirk creeps up to Miguel's face by the time his subordinate is done talking to him. "I see... Your boss was such a cunning man wasn't he? Sending a spy like you into my territory. Guess I won't be needing you anymore." He said coldly towards the tied up man before he pours the rest of the acid all over his body.

His skin burns and melts from the strong acid, melting through his clothes until there's nothing left but his bare flesh to see. Some of his bones are even able to be seen due to the absence of his flesh, melted by the acid. He kept screaming and screaming, begging Miguel to let him go. Your eyes went wide with fear and shock before looking away from the poor man as he screams in agony and pain. The smell of his burning flesh fills the room, making your stomach turn in disgust as you try to not vomit from it.

Pressing your bunny ears down against your head to muffle his screams, you ran out from the room instinctively with tears running down from your eyes. You kept running faster and faster without any clue where you're going until you accidentally bumped into one of Miguel's subordinate. Your small body crashed against his, making you fall backwards from the impact. "Woah, what are you going sweetheart?" He grabbed your wrist to help you to get back on your own feet.

A loud bang echoes from across the hallway, from the room Miguel was in. In a heartbeat, all the screams the man let out stopped. Your breath quickens even more. Miguel killed him, he killed that poor man. "Are you okay?" Without thinking you kicked him right at his groin with your strong hybrid legs, his grip loosened up on you as he groans in pain from how hard you kicked him. You pulled your hands away from him then ran past him towards the front door until you reached the road outside of Miguel's residence. "Hey get back here!" He shouted, catching the other's attention towards you.

One of them rushed to tell Miguel about your escape. Miguel's eyes went wide and his eyebrows furrows in anger when he heard you had left. "She what?! Go after her you idiots!" His men obeyed right away, they ran towards their car to go after you and drove off. Miguel does the same thing, turning his car engine on so he can have you back in his hands.

On the other side, you're running with bare feet on the side of the road. The road is empty without any sign of anyone at all. It turns out that Miguel's mansion was in the middle of nowhere, with a forest of endless trees surrounding it.

Multiple roars of engine can be heard from the distance behind you. You knew that they're coming after you just a second after you succeeded to break free and run away. You can't give up now since you've went this far against Miguel. Who knows what kind of punishment awaits you back at his mansion, what kind of pain will he inflict on you to teach you your lesson after trying to run away from him. The fear that runs in your mind is the only think that gave you the strength to keep running through the endless forest.

But what could a small bunny do against a big strong predator like him? Their car tires made some screeching noises from how hard they hit the breaks. Multiple men got out from their car and ran way faster than you, blocking your way ahead. Miguel was the last one to arrive. He stormed out from his car, slammed his car door out of rage. He stormed towards you and grabbed a fistful of your hair just when you're trying to avoid him, he drags you back into his car. "No! Let me go!" You pries on his tight grip of your hair but he's way stronger than you. He overpowered you easily and held you down in the backseat of his own car while he ordered his men to drive him back to his mansion.

"I'm very disappointed at you, little one." He growls in your ear, trapping both of your wrists in one of his massive hand and his other free hand kept a tight grip of your hair to stop you from fighting back. You sobs uncontrollably, unable to form any words out from your mouth. His mansion came into view, "I swear I'll make you regret running away from me." He continues.

The car stops, he opened the car door and kept dragging you by your hair with his subordinates following him from behind.

"Leave us, I'll take care of her."

"I'm sorry! Let me go, I'm begging you. I promise I won't runaway again!"

"Should've thought of that before you ran away from me. But you're too dumb to even think of that, aren't you?"

He brings you with him downstairs, towards what seems like a strong metal door. "What are we doing here?"

"To teach you how to behave like a good girl."

He said with a cold tone and opens the heavy door and forces you to go inside it with him. The room is dark but you can feel your feet brushing against some heavy chains of metal. He lets go of your hair and wraps his hand around your shoulder. "Sit down on the floor and be quiet, you hear me?." He ordered, waiting for you to obey his words.

You knew that he wanted you to stay here in this room as a punishment but you can't bear getting isolated just like how you did in the past. So you bit his hand that was sitting on your shoulder, hard enough for him to let go of you before running full speed towards the metal door and trying your best to push it open. The door won't even budge, it stood there tall and strong, it didn't even move a millimeter despite your effort to open it. "Was it so hard for you to just listen to me and obey?!"

He grabbed your upper arm and slammed you against the wall, knocking the air out of your lungs before putting you on chokehold and lifting your body off of the ground with his hand. "I've been very patient with you since this morning. But you've been nothing but trouble, behaving like a brat! No wonder why he treated you so badly! He should've raped you to death!" He yelled right at your face, still keeping his tight grip of your neck. You try to fight back trying to claw his hand off of you. But with no avail, his grip got even tighter.

You continue to cry as you struggles to breathe, you couldn't believe he just said that to you. Reminding you about your dead master and blamed you for all that had happened in the past. All you wanted was freedom. But these people did nothing but stole that away from you. Your body felt weak in his hand from lack of oxygen. He finally lets go of you, our body slumped weakly on the floor. You chough heavily, trying to catch some air back into your lungs. Endless tears streams out from your eyes.

He kneels before you and gripped your chin roughly to get a good look of your face. "I saved you from the world because I know how weak you are against them. One second you're out there and you might be their little plaything until the rest of your life. Think about that the next time you try to runaway from me." He took a metal collar linked with chains, connected to the wall behind you and locks it around your neck.

He stood up. Leaving your body slumped on the ground with cold concrete underneath. "Behave. Next time it will be more than just a chained collar."

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[hisunshiine]

—college nights, diner fights | jjk

pairing: waiter!jungkook x waitress!reader au/genre: diner au, e2l, angst, smut, fluff rating: M wc: 9,664 warnings: POV switches (obvious, tho) mentions of domestic abuse and alluded infidelity (parents not pairing), JK's mom has terrible boyfriends and his dad is a petty "Disney" dad, Reader's parents are better but not around often, mentions of Jungkook having to protect his mom from the bad boyfriends, mean teachers, enemiesssssss, triggering middle school memories can be brought up upon reading the banter of middle school JK and reader LOL but also not LOL, swearing, vulgar statements, forced proximity, secret mutual pining, a drunken physical altercation/assault at work (mild), mentions of blood, minor cuts/scrapes, kissing, tattoo tracing SMUT warnings: oral (f receiving), praise an: shoutout to my beta readers @colormepurplex2 @downbad4yoongi @mrsparkjimin18 @peachiilovesot7 for helping me get this thing done in time despite me being on vacation and dragging my feet! thank you all so much for the motivation, for brainstorming, and just all around positive feedback! summary: If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen! You and Jungkook have been enemies for as long as you can remember—elementary school even—and when Seokjin hires him despite knowing this, you have to call a truce during working hours. When an incident at work leads Jungkook, and you, to put things into a different perspective, will the heated diner fights become a passionate college night? Or will it fizzle before it can start?

Bangtanstrology Writing Event hosted by ME of @bangtanwritershq

My Big 3 are: Sun (Member): Gemini- Jungkook, Moon (How They Met): Scorpio- Late Night Diner, Rising (Trope): Libra- Enemies to Lovers

Part 1: Elementary School

Elementary school is supposed to be fun. For you, 11 years old and in the fifth grade, elementary school is perhaps the best time of your life so far. Your dad signed up for career day, and you are excited beyond measure for him to come in and meet with your class to talk about his job.

It’s rare that you get to spend time with your dad, as his job keeps him pretty busy. The fact that he was able to show up today was a miracle in and of itself, but he negotiated presenting first so that he could leave first to get to work. 

“Everyone, please welcome our first parent speaker, Mr. Cha.”

Your classmates applaud as your dad steps forward to the podium in the front center of the classroom and you beam from ear to ear. He looks all spiffy—hair styled well, suit pressed, and shoes shined. 

“Good morning, boys and girls, I am Mr. Cha, and I am here to speak to you about my career. To be honest, I have two jobs,” he pauses as the kids, including you, look at him in both awe and confusion, “I am the father to that little girl right there,” he points to you and you giggle. “That is a full time job all on its own, but for the other time spent working, I am a plastic surgeon.”

You can’t help the pride you feel from your classmates clapping as your dad shares. He talks about the schooling needed to get to his position, shares study tips for the transition to middle and high school, which—while still some time away—will be good to begin practicing even now. 

“You’re so handsome, Mr. Cha! Have you ever had any work done yourself?” one of the students asks during the question time.

“Ah, great question! I have tried some of the treatments that we offer at my clinic, because if I don’t believe in it, why should others have faith in me and the services I offer?” he explains. “I had a colleague of mine fix my deviated nose bridge, which I injured playing basketball in college, and I maintain my skin with various anti-aging treatments as well. It’s important to start taking care of your skin even at this age! Princess, come help me please.” Your dad gestures to you, and you rise from the chair, only a little embarrassed at him using your nickname. “Help me pass these out to your classmates.”

You begin walking around the room, placing the small cardstock printouts on each of your classmates’ desks as your dad continues speaking.

“These are coupons for my office. You can give these to a family member, or if your parents will allow you to come in, we offer a free consultation to check your skin, and a reduced rate for any skin care products or procedures for any of my princess’s classmates and their family.” He wraps up his presentation there, pulling you into him for a side hug as he smiles at your classmates and the other parents waiting in the wings to present. “Thank you for letting me present, I’ve got to run because I have a rhinoplasty scheduled today, and I need to prepare, but I had a lot of fun talking with you all today!” As your dad kisses your forehead, he whispers a quick goodbye as he leaves your classroom. You’ve never felt so proud.

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“Okay, everyone, let’s line up for P.E.,” Ms. Kim directs, and you jump in line with your peers to walk down to the field. Your classroom teacher disappears for his break as Ms. Kim takes over, and thus ensues a battle between your class as you play ‘Capture the Flag’. 

“The rules are simple,” Ms. Kim explains, “a ball is placed on each side of the field in that box.” She points at the four cones creating a safe zone with a kickball inside of it. “Once the game begins, players have to cross the midline into ‘enemy’ territory to try and capture the ball and bring it back to their side. The other team has to stop you from stealing the ball by pulling the flags to remove your waistband—no tackling! Understand?”

“Yes, Ms. Kim!” 

“Good. If your belt is pulled off, you stand off to the side at the cone here, okay? That’s the jail. To rescue your teammates from jail, you have to high five them. You must return to your side before attempting to go after the ball again. Once a player enters the box, they are safe, but they cannot stay in there forever…” 

You tune out Ms. Kim because you already know how to play, and instead busy yourself with wrapping the tan belt around your waist, adjusting the position of the three blue flags hanging from it. The red team moves to their side of the midline, and you stretch your legs idly as you wait for the teacher to blow her whistle. 

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Huffing, you pout as you walk to the jail cone, re-attaching the waistband that your classmate pulled off. He’s put you in jail several times now, almost as if he’s targeting only you during the game. It’s getting a little irritating, since Jeon Jungkook is the fastest boy in the fifth grade, but he’s spending all of his time chasing you instead of helping his team win. Even now, he’s guarding the jail so your best friend can’t come to save you again.

“Dang, JK, you pulled her flag again?” Kim Taehyung snickers loudly as he jogs over to where you’re held captive.

“Can’t let the princess get everything, now can we?” he taunts, a sarcastic tone to his words.

Kim Taehyung, unable to whisper to save his life, leans into Jungkook and asks, “Do you think her dad worked on her face? No way she’s that pretty on her own.”

Your feelings are split between irritated and pleased at the backhanded compliment. 

“She’s not that pretty, it looks more like her dad messed up her face, ‘cause she’s so ugly,” Jungkook counters, and it’s hard to decipher if his cheeks are red from playing or from talking about your looks.

“But, you said last week that she was—”

Ms. Kim’s whistle blows to end the game, and you miss the end of Taehyung’s statement. Walking away from the two fools, you barely get a foot outside of the jail zone when a sharp tug at your waist stops you in your tracks. You look down and see your belt missing, and hear a soft thud a few moments later as it hits the grass in the opposite direction several yards away.

Taehyung is laughing, his large boxy grin behind his hand as Jungkook smirks at you. 

“You lost.”

The two then take off towards where your teacher is collecting the game belts, leaving you to backtrack to get yours.

“What took you so long? Everyone else has already returned to the building. Taking your time  to head back to class is not good sportsmanship.”

“But, Jungkook—”

“No excuses. Hurry up and get inside.”

Jogging back to the building, you get another scolding when you reach the classroom, with your teacher telling you that just because your dad is a surgeon and came for Career Day does not mean you get to behave this way. From the corner of your eye, you watch as Jungkook eats up every second of the scolding, seeming to enjoy the way you wilt as it continues. As you walk back to your seat, you don’t see Jungkook stick out his foot, and you trip loudly as the desks and chairs nearest you clatter and clang as you try to regain your footing.

As the boys snicker at your forced clumsiness, you vow to yourself that Jeon Jungkook is the worst person to exist, and you will hate him for as long as you live. 

Part 2: Middle School

Jungkook’s had a hard week. Chuseok just ended, and he had to spend it with his dad’s family instead of with his mom this year, per their divorce agreement. He’s partially thankful because it allowed him a moment to rest. His hypervigilance with his mom’s new boyfriend is tiring, and his grades are suffering for it. But Jungkook is tired of these men sniffing around for a piece of the ‘supposed’ alimony his mom receives from his dad, because everyone was aware when the CEO of Jeon Industries divorced his wife and married his secretary. Jungkook begged to switch schools, but his parents refused, despite it being reported on several news outlets for a month in sixth grade. 

Eighth grade hasn’t been so bad for him though, no one talks about the divorce anymore, and Jungkook is able to be just Jungkook, known for his athletic abilities and gaming. He was able to guilt his dad into a new gaming computer, since he forgot to take him back to school shopping, and Jungkook is able to help his mom pay the bills each month with the earnings he makes betting on Overwatch. 

So when he returns back home, tired of hearing tales and seeing pictures of the trip to Cancun with the new baby that conveniently interrupted the planned shopping trip, to see his bed holding a Nike box with the shoes Jungkook begged his mom to get at the start of the year, he’s elated. He erupts into shouts and whoops of excitement, running to the kitchen to hug his mom.

“Ouch!” she can’t hide the wince as Jungkook pulls back from the embrace.

“I didn’t even squeeze you that tightly, Mom. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing, you know how clumsy I am, I ran into the dining room table the other night—”

Jungkook doesn’t even think as he reaches for the hem of her shirt, barely lifting it to see an ugly burgundy bruise spreading across her abdomen.

“Mom! Did he do this to you?” Jungkook demands, fury building in his body. 

“N-no, honey, you know how I c-can be,” she stutters through the lie, but they both know the truth. 

“Mom, if he did this because of money, just return the shoes, it’s fine.”

“No. I bought those for you. You deserve them.” His mom is resolute, turning away and adjusting her shirt as she goes back to cooking dinner. “Plus, we broke up. He won’t be back.”

Up in his room, Jungkook readies the shoes for school tomorrow. He has a few nice things, his dad is a CEO after all, but after the divorce, Jungkook chose his mom, and his dad took it personally. His dad didn’t understand, but the choice was clear to Jungkook. His dad had a new wife, but his mom had no one. Jungkook couldn't leave her too. But his dad became spiteful after that, and so Jungkook can’t take most things his dad buys him to his mom’s house, including certain clothes and shoes. 

It’s why he’s so upset about his dad missing back-to-school shopping, because those were usually the only things he was allowed to take to his mom’s, but this year he has nothing new. Not until his mom bought him the Nike Dunks he’s been coveting. Jungkook is happy, proud of his mom for choosing him over the newest boyfriend, and lying in bed, he finally feels like maybe his life isn’t so bad. He hears a knock at the door, and his mom’s tired feet shuffling to answer it.

“Please, Jongyeon-ah, I promise, it won’t happen again.” 

Jungkook rolls over, grabbing his headphones to drown out the sounds of the pleading, good for nothing, weaseling himself back into his mom’s life.

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 “Yo, Jungkook, those dunks are fly!”

Jungkook props his shoes up on the desk next to his in class, showing off the brand-new kicks to Taehyung.

“Yeah, they're limited edition.” Jungkook knows his response is a little douchebag-esque, but he doesn’t care. He’s wanted these shoes for the longest time, and after all of the bullshit he dealt with during Chuseok and now waking up to see that greasy slimeball his mom said she was done with shirtless at the table for breakfast, he just wants to pretend for once that his life is perfect. 

“Take your crusty shoes off my desk,” you scoff. Jungkook ignores you for a few seconds, leaving his feet where he has them propped on your desk. He hates that you called his shoes crusty, knowing that they’re not. They don’t even have a speck of dirt on them! He made sure of that upon his arrival, being overly cautious with each step and wiping away any blemish he perceived to be there.

“Awe, is the princess jealous she doesn’t have the limited edition dunks?” Jungkook can’t pinpoint when this rivalry started, he just knows that for as long as he can remember, the two of you have been enemies. 

“There’s a reason the supply is limited. It’s because they’re ugly and they stopped making them once they realized someone would have to be an idiot to wear them. You sitting here with them just proves this point.” You push his crossed feet off your desk and he lets you, but Jungkook holds you in his glare.

“One day you’ll stop being a hater, drowning in all that Haterade you’ve been drinking,” Jungkook makes a play on words, and his friends ‘ooooh’ and high five at his middle school burn.

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At lunch, Jungkook precariously steps between the seats to avoid damaging his shoes. His shins are starting to hurt from how he’s walking to avoid creasing his sneakers, but it’s worth the pain to him. He’s successfully avoided getting any food on his shoes from the sloppy eaters, and as he makes the last stretch to the door, a loud yell catches him off guard.

“Watch it!”

Nayeon, one of your lackeys, warns everyone as she’s bumped by you and her red sports drink goes flying. Jungkook is stuck between tables, backpacks cluttering the aisle and Nayeon’s body flailing taking up all of the space. It all happens in seconds—a hip check, a flying drink, and the contents now strewn across the floor and Jungkook’s new sneakers and laces now stained a bright red, dripping across the leather and fabric of his brand new, limited edition Nike Dunks. 

“Oh my god, Nayeon, you are so clumsy!”

Jungkook gawps at you, unbelieving, as your annoying voice fills the silence that took over the room only moments before.

“So sorry, Jungkook. Nayeon bumped into me and then she spilled her haterade—I mean Gatorade—all over your new shoes! I hope those weren’t hard to get or anything! I’m sure your CEO daddy can get you a new pair.”

Jungkook storms from the room, seething at your audacity. If you had any idea about his life, would you treat him this way? He wishes you could walk a day in his shoes, maybe you would realize that life outside your perfect, princess bubble is not always sweet, and would think twice before being a bitch to him, but it’s too late for him to change his view of you. You are the devil’s spawn and Jungkook has never hated someone as much as he hates you.

Part 3: High School

Getting into BTS-U should be easy for you, what with your dad being an alumnus, but you don’t want to rely on nepotism. You’ve been working your ass off for good grades all four years of high school, and the final determination of your competency is about to start. Only one student can represent your high school as the Youth of the Year, winning prestige and honor by being granted early admission into any four-year university in the country of their choice without needing CSAT scores. 

The last of the trials, the oral interview, is scheduled for today and as you sit outside the room in the creaky, overly hard chair, your heart pounds. Of course, the final two students competing for this merit would be the two students who despise each other the most in the school, making the competition that much more important to you. 

You cannot lose to fucking Jeon Jungkook.

“We’re ready for you!”

The chipper voice startles you from your thoughts as you steel yourself to go into the final challenge. 

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“Thank you all for your participation in the Youth of the Year program. As you know, the contenders were all very high achieving and will have plenty of options available to you for your future. Do not let not being named deter you from the future awaiting you all. Now, today, we interviewed the two finalists from this wonderful school, and while both were outstanding, one student really opened up and shared a vulnerable side to him that inspired us. He has already begun an incredible journey in his young life, showcasing a will to succeed. Jeon Jungkook, please stand.”

The crowd in the auditorium bursts into applause as you burst into tears. The one good thing about this ceremony is that the finalists do not sit on stage, so in the chaos and celebration, you are able to sneak away to the bathroom. Jeon Jungkook looked so shocked to have been chosen, but you knew that he couldn’t actually be shocked. His mom stood up with him, hugging him with pride, and your parents couldn’t even be bothered to show up for such an important moment. 

You tell yourself it’s not a big deal, that you have done well and will most likely have the same options for college as Jungkook does, but being a Youth of the Year finalist is not the same as being the Youth of the Year. What really hurts you the most is that if the roles were switched, Jungkook’s mom would be there to hug him and tell him he did great and fought hard. If you had been chosen, you still would’ve been alone, but at least the loneliness wouldn’t have hurt as much. 

The judges who interviewed you must think you don’t need the help, that you have everything you could ever want, so why would they choose the spoiled little rich girl? Why would they choose the girl who eats dinner with the maids, who read bedtime stories to herself growing up, the girl who has everything—everything except a family that loves her more than their careers and supports her unfailingly?

Facing the mirror, you reach for your purse and pull out the small makeup pouch so that you can erase any evidence of the sadness you feel today, brimming with the unshed tears of yesterday, and prepare your battle face to go back out there and be cordial as the runner up. Another battle you’ll face alone. 

Part 4: College at BTS-U

“Welcome to Jin’s Diner, have a seat wherever you’d—what the fuck are you doing here?”

The chiming of the door opening caught your ear, so you’d turned to greet the newest customer, except instead of an overly tired trucker or a group of post-clubbing college students, you’re faced with one Jeon Jungkook.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” he asks, eyebrow pitched and smirk full of snark.

“No, I kiss your father with this mouth. Now get out.” You go back to wiping down the counters, ignoring the stare of your arch-nemesis as you finish cleaning.

“Now, now, Baby Cakes, let your new coworker into the diner so you can finally get the help you've been asking for.”

You turn to the owner’s son, Kim Seokjin, mouth gaping open in confusion. “Coworker? I thought you read through the notes I made on all of the applicants?”

“Yes, I did, and they were very helpful. He’ll be working nights with you, so show him to the back while I grab a lock for his locker and a uniform.”

“Sir—”

“Now, Cakes.”

Seokjin disappears into the hallway towards his office, and you turn back to Jungkook, who’s standing smugly with his arms crossed watching you.

“Ugh, keep up, small fry.” 

Jungkook’s black boots squeak along the freshly mopped floor as he hustles to catch up with you. The doorway behind the counter opens into the kitchen, where the two line cooks, Hoseok and Yoongi, work diligently. Hoseok is sitting next to the recently delivered products with a clipboard in hand as he counts the items, while Yoongi is wiping down his area before the rush begins. You clear your throat loudly to gather their attention.

“We have a new waiter, his name is Jeon Jungkook, but he shall go by Small Fry, I think.” The smile on your face is devilish, and the two men snicker as they take in the newbie rushing in behind you.

“Wait, why am I ‘Small Fry’?” he asks, only a little out of breath from having to round the counter and catch up to you.

“Because everyone who works here gets called a food nickname, helps with the creeps, especially on nights.”

“I’m Suga,” Yoongi greets, “and this here is Hobi-Honey, but we just call him Hobi for short.”

“And I’m Baby Cakes, as you heard bossman say.”

“What’s your real name again, Small Fry?” Yoongi asks, his platinum hair shining in the fluorescent kitchen lights.

“It’s Jungkook,” he answers, emphasizing his name as he glares at you.

“Hmm, Baby Cakes, I think he might be better suited to Cooky…”

“Isn’t that too close to his name?” you argue, hoping to keep Small Fry, but when you see Hobi shake his head, you know you’ve lost.

“Fine, Cooky it is then! Next new hire will be called Small Fry no matter what!” you concede, waving Jungkook to follow you towards the back of the kitchen.

He trails you quietly as you push a swinging wooden door with a circular window in it and lead him into the employee lounge. Seokjin is whistling to himself as you enter, twirling a metal lock around his finger. You look around the room, surprised at how quickly he had everything ready.

“Great, you met Suga and Hobi then?” he asks, nodding at the door you just entered.

“Yes, I figured it would be best to do that first on the way here.”

“So, Jungkook—”

“He’s Cooky,” you interrupt, but Seokjin just shakes your rudeness off.

“—Cooky, this here’s the lounge. The door you just entered is used while you’re on shift for breaks and such. When you arrive for your shift and leave for the night, it should always be through the door behind me.” He gestures to a purple-handled door. “To the left are the employee cubbies, and to the right, we have the laundry station, small kitchenette, and door to the staff bathroom.” 

You nod at the TV mounted on the wall next to the swinging door. “The remote always stays on this table,” you tap the main table in the room that seats six, “and we typically keep the TV on ESPN, MTV, or my personal favorite, HGTV.”

“Thank you, Cakes. Now, your Jin’s Diner gear stays here, we’ll wash it for you after each shift you work.” Seokjin points to a stacked washer and dryer in the corner. “Just throw it in the wash after your shift each night. We’ll put it back in your cubby for you once dry.”

Jungkook nods, but he looks a bit overwhelmed from all of the information. You take the lead and sit down first hoping he’ll follow you. You know Seokjin talks fast and moves through the employee information even faster, and despite not liking Jeon Jungkook, you need the help on your shift since Mochi quit to focus on his last semester.

You grab a permanent marker and white label from the center of the table, tossing it across to Jungkook with a little more force than necessary.

“We each have a cubby, with a small locker inside. Use this to write your name and then claim an empty spot, and you can also write your name on the tags of your uniform.”

Seokjin grabs plastic-wrapped clothing articles from the cabinet next to the laundry station and approaches the table, too, tossing down the new clothing. 

“Your gear. Shirt, apron, and a ballcap. If you want a visor instead, let me know. Black, khaki, or blue jeans, black non-slip shoes, keep the blingy jewelry at home.”

“Dammit, I was planning to choke him with his chain after the first shift.”

Seokjin levels his gaze at you, and you know you’re pushing your limits with him. 

“I’ll have you follow Baby Cakes around to learn the drill for taking orders, but mostly you’ll be bussing tables tonight. I’ll work on the final processing of your paperwork in the meantime. Cakes, come with me while he changes.”

You follow Seokjin out of the lounge and back towards the office. He opens the door and steps back to allow you to enter first, shutting the door behind him as he follows you into the room.

“You need to tone it down. I know you said that you and he have some bad blood, but we need the help and he’s the best applicant we have.”

“It’s deeper than that, Jinnie, he’s literally been tormenting me since elementary school. We work with heavy-duty machinery and cutlery. You might come in one morning to find that one of us has stabbed the other to death.” You push out your bottom lip and give him your best, roundest, watery puppy eyes. “Is that what you really want?”

“What I want is to have a fully staffed evening shift so that my best girl can stop having bags under her eyes and complaining about her feet hurting every shift.” Seokjin smiles teasingly at you. “Plus, you need a good annual review to get a raise, and training new employees looks good to the owner.”

“Your dad is the owner! You can just tell him to give me a raise!”

“I could…but this is so much more fun. Who knows, he’s kinda hot…maybe you find out that the reason he’s picked on you your whole life is because he has a crush on you.”

“That fallacy is just a way for the patriarchy to continue to push abuse acceptance and the ‘boys will be boys’ agenda.” You cross your arms, but overall you know Seokjin is right. You’ve always prided yourself on being able to adapt well to situations, put a fake smile on when you need to deal with rude customers or your parents missing another monumental event in your life. “But fine. At work, it’ll be a ceasefire. That’s about all I can promise you.”

“I thought you said there would be a ceasefire!” Seokjin yells at you from where you sit in his office. Jungkook is seated next to you, slouching in the chair with his head turned away towards the wall. You can see his jaw clenching every few seconds as Seokjin continues berating you. “Instead, I got a call from a family friend that you two were so busy yelling at each other for not doing your jobs that you effectively stopped doing your job!” 

You huff as you roll your eyes, turning away from Jungkook’s severely hot—no—aggravating jawline, (where did that thought even come from?) to respond to Seokjin.

“That’s not even what happened last night! This idiot decided to fuck with the seating and of course, since the big game is tomorrow, we had a lot of people stop in and it was noisy. I was trying to seat the guests who were being louder and rowdier on one side so that our regulars,” you glare at Jungkook, who’s still refusing to look at either you or Seokjin, “could dine in peace, but when I ran to the back to restock the napkins for the bar top, he seated people himself. He’s not the host. He’s still a newbie! It’s been, what? Three, four months?”

“...Four,” Jungkook mumbles, but you ignore it.

“And so then poor Mrs. Hana ended up dealing with the hooligans who disrupted her meal, and yes, it was when I was trying to explain to him how seating works—”

“I know how seating works, it’s not rocket science!”

“So then why would you mess with the flow of the diner and seat them there?!”

“Because you,” Jungkook finally breaks the stoic act and turns to face you abruptly, so much so you almost visibly jump, “kept seating the large groups in your sections, which meant that you were giving yourself the better tips and leaving me with the geriatrics who barely leave anything!”

“Are you serious? You think I was trying to take tips from you? I hate dealing with the sports crowd! I would have gladly traded with you if you had said something to me, but you were too busy ignoring me when I was trying to talk to you about dividing up the floor—”

“—you talk to me like I’m a child, so of course I was ignoring you, you dolt—”

“—really piss me off, you think I would stoop so low, probably because it’s what you would do—”

“Shut up, both of you!” Seokjin’s eyes have a hardness to them you are not used to seeing. He’s usually laid back, but the stress lines on his face speak to an underlying tension you aren’t aware of. “Look,” he takes a deep breath, rubbing his hand over his eyes briefly, “this can’t happen again. Mrs. Hana could’ve broken her hip slipping on the spilled soda, and her son is debating suing us. My dad is obviously handling this situation, but that means your jobs are on the table. If her son demands it in exchange to avoid a lawsuit, I can’t stop it.”

It settles on you at that moment, how severe this is. You know that the little, old lady regular slipped and fell, but both you and Jungkook rushed over to help her up, comping her meal and walking her outside to sit quietly and assess how she was feeling while waiting for her son to arrive. Not only that, but he didn’t seem mad when he picked her up—just worried about if she was in pain and if she needed to go see a doctor. Apparently, after the shock wore off, his anger set in.

“I’m sorry, Seokjin. It won’t happen again.”

“Get to your shift, I’m sure Nam—I mean Porkchop—is ready to go. Remember, Suga will be late today, the championship game is tonight. So no more ignoring the hooligans and Cooky,” Seokjin gives his leveled glare to Jungkook this time, “Baby Cakes is in charge. I know you’re eager to prove yourself, and you’ve done well so far, but she’s worked the aftermath of championship games before.”

Jungkook stares back at Seokjin, a low humming tension filling the room before he answers with a “Yes, sir.” 

The diner is louder than Jungkook’s ever heard before as he goes around clearing tables now that the game is over. His coworker, Yoongi, did amazing from what he saw on the screen. BTS-U wore their white home jerseys with purple and black lettering, so it was easy to see when number 3 hit the game-winning three-pointer. 

Now, as the same white jersey is stepping into the diner, all of the fans cheer and bang their cups and silverware to congratulate the MBC Cup National University Basketball Championship’s MVP for the win tonight. 

Jungkook looks across the dining area, where he sees you kneeling on the countertop clapping your hands above your head. The uniform dress that you chose for tonight has risen higher up your thigh than normal—probably from the way you climbed up onto the counter—giving Jungkook a pretty good view of the skin leading up to what he’s sure are lace panties. He’s walked in on you changing one too many times to not know your preference. 

He can’t look away from you; something about the sheer energy radiating off of you is magnetic, as if you’re lit from within, and before he knows it, he’s moving closer to you. Jungkook knows he can’t stand you personally, but physically? He’ll never admit this aloud—not since Taehyung almost told you the truth back in elementary school— but you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. 

He doesn’t have much time to ponder your looks as you bring two fingers to your lips and let out a loud wolf whistle, setting you off balance with the action. Luckily he’s already been pulled into your orbit, because he catches you with two strong hands on your waist before you can fall off the counter.

“Thanks, Cooky!” you say, eyes alight and voice pleasant, as if you’ve forgotten who Jungkook is to you, and who you are to him. 

“No problem, Baby Cakes.” Jungkook helps you climb down, and when you bend forward to place your palms on the counter to dismount, he sees his hypothesis on your panties is right. His eyes remain on your ass as you extend a leg to the floor, and despite the trouble the two of you got into before your shift, Jungkook can’t seem to care to remember why he shouldn’t be enjoying the view.

“Congrats, Suga!” Jungkook watches as you launch yourself into Yoongi’s arms, giving him a loud smooch on the cheek.

“Thanks, Cakes, that last shot was for you.” He winks, and Jungkook doesn’t understand why he’s feeling so affected, but he wants to blame it on those panties you unknowingly flashed for the irritation he feels toward his friend for flirting with you. She’s your enemy, Kook, get it the fuck together.

Jungkook stalks away, grabbing his bussing bin and rag so he can clean up the table of the group in line to pay.

🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️

“Fuck you and your sorry-ass school!” 

Jungkook turns his head to see you standing feet shoulder-width apart with your arms crossed, looking so much like the evil bitch he’s come to know. Only this time, it’s directed towards an EXO-U fan, by the looks of the silver and black shirt he’s sporting.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

You command the space well, and had the man been sober, he probably would have listened to you when you gave him the polite option to leave on his own two feet. As luck would have it, the man grew more belligerent with each passing moment, causing Jungkook to run and grab Yoongi from the back to help handle the situation. Jungkook doesn’t like what he’s hearing when he returns to the front.

“You dumb cunt, we don’t have to leave! Come over here, baby, suck my cock like you suck their players, bet that’s why they won, huh? Saw you all over their star player earlier, let me get a piece, bitch.”

Jungkook wants to lunge at the man, but Yoongi beats him to the table, effortlessly grabbing the man by his arm and neck to yank him from his booth seat.

Jungkook gets to his other side, helping the man walk towards the double glass doors as Yoongi mutters menacingly at the patron.

“Best not show your face around here again, if you know what’s good for you. Find another place to eat, and we won’t beat your ass.”

Yoongi lets go of the man once they clear the sidewalk into the parking lot, the man’s friends stumble out behind, but Jungkook shoves the man hard, and he falls to the ground. He feels no remorse for the man; he reminds him too much of the creeps his mom dealt with: stench of alcohol on their breath that grew with each vulgar word that rolled out of their mouths, animosity leeching from their greasy skin—Jungkook needs to wash his hands and splash his face. 

Fleeing inside, he bypasses you cleaning up the mess the rowdy table left behind, unable to hear the words you say clearly enough to decipher them. He knows that it’s almost time to close up and he has a few tasks to do to help speed up the process, but he’ll get to them in a minute. He just needs a minute to shake off this feeling, and then he’ll be okay to do the final cleaning for the evening, and find out what you said.

You’ve always hated dealing with the championship game guests, but always loved being with the crowd because of the thrill and your love for the game. The shift wasn’t terrible work-wise, as Jungkook really pulled his weight throughout the shift, allowing you to be in charge as the hostess and main waitress, filling in where you needed and bussing tables as the guests rotated through the double doors.

And you can’t lie, when you almost lost your balance on the counter, it was kind of hot that he was there to catch you, and help you down safely. With his jawline that can cut glass and his warm hands sitting large on your hips, you were a little sad to have them drop away, but you hid your disappointment in congratulating Suga and then moved on with the shift.

Of course, such a perfectly good shift had to end with a douchebag. To your surprise, when you turn to look to Jungkook for help, he’s already approaching with Suga in tow. And damn your worst enemy if he doesn’t do the second hottest thing of the night, vanquishing the drunkard with the sailor’s mouth from your sight, his foul friends trailing behind. 

You clear off the table, the half-eaten food discarded in the trash and you realize that it needs to be taken out now before the last of the tables are done. Jungkook speed walks past you, so you call out to him, “Cooky, take the trash out, please!”

You finish sweeping under the table, then wipe down the booth’s table as Suga also returns inside, pausing to check on you.

“Everything good, Cakes?”

You nod, placing a hand on your hip as you reflect on the incident. “Yeah, he was a real fuck boy, but you and Cooky saved me just in time.”

“Always…I’m surprised Cooky was so worked up when he called me from the kitchen. Usually you two are at each other’s throats, I would’ve thought he’d enjoy seeing you deal with a rude customer.”

“Well, we did get yelled at earlier by Jin for last night, so we promised to work together and drop whatever rivalry we have during working hours. So maybe that’s it.”

“Mmm…maybe. Well, let me go help Hobi, this last wave will keep us later if I don’t.” Yoongi takes a few steps to round the counter, then calls back out to you, “The trash is about to overflow, Cakes!”

Frowning, you notice that Jungkook has yet to return to take out the trash. Glancing around the room, you see most of the tables are in stages of eating or waiting for their food. They all seem well and distracted with clips from the post-game coverage, so you decide to take out the trash yourself. Maybe the truce between you and Jungkook isn’t as intact as you think. 

Grumbling to yourself, you tie off the bag and lift it from the bin, foot angled to keep the wheels from sliding across the floor from the tug. You eye the replacement black bag, but decide to put it in once you return from the dumpster. 

You hate taking out the trash; you love feminism but some tasks are just made for men. You refuse to use the loud trolley with the janky wheel, so you carry the bag gingerly, resting it down every few steps as you make your way across the sparsely lit back parking lot.

“Well, if it isn’t the bitch who didn’t let me finish my meal.”

You snap your head around, eyes roving for the source of the raspy words, finally landing on the douchebag discharged from the diner only 10 minutes ago.

“We didn’t charge you for it, so I suggest you leave before this turns into a real problem.” You keep your eyes on him, watching as he shifts around on his feet, inching closer to you. You hold your stance, refusing to look weak in case he decides you’d make a good target.

“Maybe if you come suck me off like a good girl, I won’t leave a bad review online about how much of a cunt you’re being. Matter of fact, throw in some pussy, let me fuck you properly and I bet all that attitude will drop. You just need someone to tame you.”

The man lunges for your left arm, his meaty fist closing around your wrist and you pull back to break the contact but he’s strong. You yell out, stumbling back away from the trash bag and he follows, heavy footfalls adding to the sounds of the evening. 

“Let go, you freak!”

You jolt your arm, wrenching it in as many directions as you can to try and relax his grip but he pulls you closer to him until you can smell the ethanol on his breath as he places his other hand forcefully on your shoulder. 

“I said I wanted you on your knees, stupid bitch,” he utters, and reflexively you punch him in his dick. He groans and releases you, hunching over in pain. You make out a figure stepping through the service door, and you call out for help. Attempting to step around the man, you only make it a few steps before you feel the weight of the man bearing down on you again.

“You stupid bitch!”

You try to run, but the man has the back of your dress in his grip so instead, your shoes scrape the asphalt in the same place repeatedly. A loud thwack of flesh on flesh sounds right before you’re released, dropping the short distance to the concrete. Your palms and knees feel the sting of the gravel but the relief of being out of the man’s hold overpowers any lingering pain as you scramble to your feet. 

Behind you, Jungkook is pummeling the man in the face, and you pause for a moment in shock before you rush back to him, grabbing his bicep to stop him from swinging again.

“Cooky, stop, I’m okay! Jungkook!”

He freezes, turning to look at you as if to see if your statement is true, and seeing that you’re serious, he appears to deflate a bit, no longer an attacking watchdog but a protective knight, making sure his charge is unscathed.

“Let’s go.” He gestures for your hand and you place yours in his, letting him guide you away from the groaning sack of trash and the garbage bag on the ground.

The fluorescent lights of the break room are blinding after the darkness of outside. Vaguely you hear Jungkook yelling at the others working, followed by the clattering of kitchen items, but you’re so out of sorts you don’t even realize that Jungkook has maneuvered you into a chair and is gently checking your knees, palms, and arms. He brushes off the remaining dirt from your skin.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

His voice sounds pained, and this pulls you from your thoughts and back to the present with him. 

“Um, I don’t think so.”

“Where all did he touch you? It might not hurt now, but once the adrenaline dies off, you might feel it.”

“Um, my arm, my shoulder, I can’t…I don’t know.”

“It’s okay, let me check your neck…he grabbed your dress and pulled you, so I wanna make sure it won’t bruise.”

He takes your face in his hands delicately, tilting your head to expose your neck to his view. The proximity has your head spinning, his cologne enveloping you as he leans closer, a hand leaving your cheek to allow a finger to trail across your neckline. You know he’s just checking to make sure that there’s no lingering marks, but you don’t think that the after effects of tonight will be anything anyone can see. He grabs a glass of water for you, and you sit quietly while he tends to the minor cuts on your palms from the jagged gravel in the parking lot. 

Time seems to pass as you’re deep in thought, but you’re not sure how much until Seokjin appears, his purple and white painted face replacing the doe eyes and clenched jaw. He looks frazzled, as if he just left an after-party for the championship and was pulled into work. You realize after a moment that that’s actually what happened, and chuckle at yourself. He says your real name, pulling you out of your laughter.

“I’m so sorry this happened, luckily Jungkook was there. I don’t know what I would've done if something happened to you.” Seokjin pulls you into a hug, and you reciprocate, squeezing him tighter as the feeling of being held feels good. He pulls away sooner than you like, but he continues talking to you about what’s been going on since you’ve been sitting in the employee lounge.

“Look, don’t worry about staying and cleaning up tonight, okay? We’ve got everything under control. Hobi called the cops and Yoongi made sure the guy didn’t flee before they came. He’s in their custody now.”

“What about Jungkook?” you ask, uncharacteristically using his given name.

“He’s giving his statement to the police now. They’ll want to talk to you too, but I can put it off for tonight if you need,” Seokjin offers kindly, but you want to get it over with.

“It’s okay, I’ll speak to them now.”

“If you’re sure. I’ll grab one of the detectives now and they can take your statement, and then I’m sending you home. Jungkook will drive you, okay? You’re still a bit shaky.”

You look down at your hands, seeing the tremble Seokjin is referencing and nod. There’s no use in putting up a fight. All of the men you work with have now proven that you’re safe with them. Seokjin walks over to the door, popping his head out to call for an officer, and he paces quietly as you recount what happened, starting with the attacker growing belligerent in the dining area. Once finished, Seokjin grabs Jungkook from where he’s talking with Yoongi outside the door, ushering him to take your belongings and get you home.

You follow along, compliant, waving goodbye to the others as Jungkook pulls off into the main road back towards campus.

“You live by BTS-U, right?”

“Yeah, at Omelas, next to the train tracks.”

Neither of you speak again until he parks, turning off the engine to his jeep.

“Here, let me help you.” Jungkook grabs your backpack and climbs out of the SUV, coming around to the passenger side door to open it for you. You jump out and lead the way to your first -floor apartment. Unlocking the door, you flip on the lights as you toe off your non-slip work shoes.

“My roommate is out of town visiting her parents this weekend.”

Dumping your purse onto the kitchen counter, you walk further into your home, Jungkook trailing you slowly. He kicks off his shoes, socks shuffling quietly along the carpet as he enters your living room after closing and securing the front door lock. He places your backpack on the couch, and the two of you stand there awkwardly.

“Um, do you want some water or something? I have juice, milk, beer…” you trail off, uncertain.

“Water is fine, thanks.”

You grab a glass from the cupboard, filling it with ice water to return the favor from earlier as you bolster your courage to thank him. You hand him the glass and before you can think too hard, you just start speaking.

“Jungkook, I just wanted to thank you, for coming out there and, you know, saving me. I know we don’t get along much, but you really came through and I appreciate it.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen, blinking up at you from where he’s sitting on your couch. He takes a long sip from the glass, and he seems uncertain if he wants to speak but does so anyway.

“It was nothing, really.”

“Why, um, why did you help me, I mean—I’m just saying, oh this is coming out wrong—”

“Look, I’ve had a lot of practice dealing with creeps like him. I’ve had to do it plenty for my mom, and I just don’t like to see anyone getting hurt, not even my arch nemesis.” Jungkook tries to joke it off at the end, but his tone reveals so much more to you about what he’s not saying.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was like that for you back in high school.” You sit down next to him, closer than you normally would with your backpack taking up part of the seat, but you don’t mind it. You feel safer being closer to him.

“I mean, why would you know?” he asks, leaning back into the couch and taking another sip. “You have a perfect family, I’m sure nothing like this happened on the weekly at your place.”

“No, but like, my perfect family isn’t what everyone thinks it is, either. My parents didn’t pay attention to me, always busy working and what not. Honestly career day, back in like fifth grade was the only time one of my parents made it to something, and even then, it was so my dad could advertise his business. I felt so sheltered growing up, like I had no life skills. It’s why I work at the diner.”

Jungkook digests your words, understanding blooming through his chest. 

“I get that. It’s funny, I remember that day so well, I was so jealous of you, because your dad showed up for you. I guess our dads are the same though…I think if I had grown up with my parents still together, I would’ve felt like you do. My dad kind of left me behind when he remarried, you know? In a way, that made me less sheltered, because when I was with my mom, I had to grow up fast. I couldn’t always have the nicest things because she couldn’t always afford them.”

“I didn’t realize that you had to split time between them. One of my friends, Jimin? He told me about how your dad wouldn’t let you take things back and forth between houses.”

“Why did he do that?” Jungkook looks a little scandalized, and you’re sure it’s because Jimin is one of his best friends. He’s the one who recommended that he apply to Jin’s Diner in the first place, and how you knew to warn Jin to not hire Jungkook, not that it worked. “I didn’t know you were close with Jimin!”

“We used to work together…you actually replaced him. It’s why we were hiring in the first place. But, he told me that because he was trying to get me to ease up on you one day. I was complaining about something and he was trying to make you more human, I guess.”

Jungkook just nods. You know he probably realizes there’s no reason to be mad, it was all in the past and Jimin was coming from a good place when he revealed that.

“Well, it’s true. My dad is kind of the worst. My mom saved up to get me some Dunks back in middle school because my dad couldn’t be bothered to take me back to school shopping. As if I didn’t grow a foot and 3 shoe sizes.”

“Oh fuck, you know, I’m sorry for making Nayeon spill her drink on your shoes. That was really evil of me.”

“We were like 13? 14? All middle school girls are evil.” Jungkook chuckles. You’re relieved at how gracious he’s being, but a little annoyed. You turn to him to say as much, but he continues to speak. “Honestly, I don’t even know why we went toe to toe like that. We probably would’ve been best friends if we had combined our smarts. You were really great during the Youth of the Year competition. I’m sorry that you didn’t win, I think you deserved to.”

Jungkook is looking back at you now, with his pretty doe eyes, sitting so close to you. You don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, instead focusing on his star-filled eyes and the way they’re staring into your own. His arm moves slowly, lifting to bring his hand to your face, curling a tendril of hair behind your ear.

“It’s getting pretty late now, I should get home,” he starts, but his eyes speak volumes and it doesn’t seem like he wants to leave just yet. “But there’s still one more thing I need to apologize for.”

Your eyebrows furrow, confused as to what incident it could be when his lips meet yours in a tender kiss, not too forceful but not shy either—just the right amount to let you know this isn’t a mistake. It takes you a few seconds to respond, but when you sense Jungkook about to move away you pull him in closer, keeping his lips where you can access them. It’s not enough though, so throwing caution to the wind, you straddle him as your tongue swipes for entry, pushing him further into the couch as you lean into his fit body. He groans at your boldness, large hands planted firmly on your ass as the kiss deepens. You feel dangerously high, lacking oxygen, but you can’t stop—you don’t want to stop. He’s intoxicating.

His fingers tighten imperceptibly, and you know he, too, is at the end of his air, so you break apart, chest heaving as you stare at his lips, red and plump from the kiss. 

“That was your…apology for? Or you were…apologizing for…kissing me?” you pant, trying to catch your breath.

“Both?” he says with a cute, bunny-like smile, “one, for hating you all these years, and two, for kissing you out of the blue.”

“And if I want you to apologize to me more?” you half-question, half-goad, and Jungkook gives the right answer, leaning into you once more so he can kiss you hard, teeth nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away.

“That’s something I can do.” Jungkook uses his strength to flip you onto your back on the couch, knocking your backpack out of the way and onto the floor. “Is this okay?” He searches your eyes for your consent to his hands on your thighs, fingertips skimming the hem of your dress. 

You nod, and he trails them higher until he’s grasping the band of your panties and sliding them down without haste. You enjoy the commanding presence he takes on, unlike the people you deal with on a daily at work, indecisive with what to order, he knows exactly what he wants, and when Jungkook pushes up your dress and buries his face between your thighs, it takes everything in you not to climax right then. His tongue flits around your clit, teasing you as his hands massage your thighs while keeping them wide for him. 

“Jungkook,” his name is a breathy whisper in the air as your fingers curl around his locks, tightening your grip when he flicks closer to where you need him. “Please.”

You wiggle your hips, searching for more friction from his tongue but he just pulls away, tutting his tongue at you for being bad. You sit up slightly to glare at him.

“Patience, baby.”

Whining, you lay back on the couch with a huff. “This is why we hated each other bac—oh, fuck me,” you finish with a moan as he flattens his tongue across your pussy and stimulates every nerve he can cover. Wrapping his lips around your clit, he begins to suck, gently flicking his tongue every few seconds as he positions two fingers at your dripping center. Delving inside of you, the plunge of his fingers reaches the ache inside of you, causing your legs to tremble as he fine-tunes your body like an instrument. 

“Feels so good, mmph, fuck,” is all you can manage to say as he continues to pump his fingers, the squelching of your walls suctioning them back in with every tug out only making you wetter. Jungkook hums, and the thrumming sensation curls your toes. Arching your back, you tug his hair hard as you mewl loudly from the impending orgasm.

“You can do it, baby, cum for me,” Jungkook praises, “you’re doing so well, squeezing my fingers so tight, watch me.”

When his mouth once again finds its rhythm on your core, it takes just a few seconds of making eye contact with Jungkook, doe-eyes wide as he watches you enjoy his tongue, before you shiver and melt into the euphoria he’s bringing to your body. 

“That’s it, fuck—you look so pretty, baby.”Body spent, you stare up at the ceiling blinking as you come back to earth. Jungkook tucks himself behind you, holding you in his arms. You look down at the arm over your waist, your fingers lightly tracing the tattoos on his exposed full sleeve. You can feel his bulge, know that there’s so much more…apologizing you both need to do after years of being enemies, but you have all night for that. And in the morning, you don’t know what will happen, if there will be more to come after tonight, but what you do know is that at this moment you don’t hate Jungkook; not even a little bit, not even at all.

🍽️🍽️🍽️

© hisunshiine 2023. All rights reserved. 

thank you for reading!!!

[hezuart]

LN Channel Change AU Sequel: “Seven” {1} {2} {3} {here/final}

And they lived happily ever after. Or did they? We've established our main characters Mono (TV/space-time) and Six (Soul Sucking) have strange supernatural powers. I wanted Seven to have one too. (Hydrokinesis aka water bending)

Notes for how I came up with Seven's powers and the deeper meaning behind his interaction with Mono:

1. Each child has nightmare prophecies (something to do with Mono's time loop?)  at the beginning of their stories. Six's is the Lady, Mono's is the door that leads to the Thin Man, and Seven's is being pulled underwater. Six and Mono's nightmare visions are fulfilled at the end of their stories; revealing that the thing they dreamed about, they essentially become or usurp.  Seven's differs. His dream resolves in act 1 and he kills the Granny, the creature assumed to be the one pulling him underwater in his nightmare. But what if Seven's dream prophecy was still valid... even post-Granny? Being dragged underwater... for a different fate?

2. Seven is the only main cast character shown with the ability to swim. 3. "Seven Seas" anyone? Water is a symbol of purification & life, hence, Seven gains his new powers after he survived and Mono broke the timeline loop to start fresh. "Washing it away" so to say. 4. Water is a liquid; passive in nature, but powerful in circumstance. Seven is kind and sneaky but kills the Granny when continuously attacked and threatened by her. He does the same to the Octopus monster.

5. Water molecules have adhesion and cohesion, meaning water likes to stick to itself, and stick to other things. Seven has an attachment to Nomes. He is always drawn to other people and other creatures, wanting to help them. His belief is that survival chances are higher amidst a group. Water is also known for containing life, no matter how strange or deep, such as ocean fish that often travel in schools/packs often to confuse or fight off predators, thus, another reference to Seven's new life, and his teamwork with Nomes and Mono.

6. Seven is often in fandom depicted by a circle. A water droplet. 7. Seven collects flotsam; typically boat debris, but in this case, bottled messages that come from the sea. Yet another connection to water.

All this indicates heavy implication and well-fitting power to bestow hydrokinesis onto Seven. I was inspired by the INSIDE game's drowning chapter and Stanley and Stanford's secret boat hide-out on the beach from Gravity Falls. Which is why I have selected Mono, Seven, and all their future friends to a lovely and sunny (future) beach house, far away from everything they've suffered. And living near the largest body of water on the planet with a kid with hydrokinesis? ...Certainly has its perks!

But Seven gaining powers is important to not only their survival but also him. He was still nervous about Mono. He knew Mono was very powerful and mysterious. In more ways than one. Mono is stronger than him and can also use telekinesis on objects on the beach. He's a better food hunter and seems more like a leader. Seven also likes to lead, but he felt outshined by Mono. (I don't portray that well in my comic) Seven is weaker and defenseless. His only shining quality in comparison is his ability to swim, but even that can only get him so far. He risks his life for his Nome friends and loses his life doing so. Or so he thought. By a miracle, his powers over water awaken. He drains the monster of its water, beaching it. He walks to Mono in a new light. It's a new him. He holds up his hands as if to say "See? I'm like you now." He's leveled the playing field. (It also helps that he now has jurisdiction over power Mono cannot interact with) Now they are truly equal. Two kings; one of land, one of sea, both ruling the island in equal standing. Seven will never again feel like a burden left behind. (Seven's powers activating also has something to do with the fact he bit the Octopus creature to save the Nome. Mono and Six both consume their powerful prophesized enemies to gain some of their power, if they didn't already have some before. Seven biting into the Octopus's flesh and unknowingly consuming some of it may have jumpstarted his power deep within him, on top of him encountering Mono; supernatural kid extraordinaire that brought him through a tower wormhole to escape the city)

~~~

A threequel is planned, and maybe the last addition to this series, but the next one is not fully fleshed out yet so it may be another year until I can really touch upon it yet. Otherwise, hope you guys enjoyed!

[momolady]

Florenz the Vampire Bat

An arranged marriage and a regal manor where sunlight cannot come in, sounds like it could be a nightmare. But it isn't, only in theory is this a bad situation for you to be in. The bite of reality is much better.

Female Reader x Male Monster (both cis)

///////////////////////////////////////////////////

From your window you can look down upon the village you once called home. At night, the windows twinkle and shine from the lights within each home. In total darkness it almost appears as if the sky has nestled upon the ground, gathering itself between the cracks and nooks of the rocky mountainside. You are supposed to be within those craggy pathways, walking yourself to the market to buy the children pears and treats for all their hard work. Instead, you are in Florescu castle with a new master.

Stepping away from the window, you let the heavy curtains fall back into place. The curtains are to always remain closed, so the castle is always in the bounds of night. You walked back towards your bed, crawling in to pull the covers up and fix the pillows back in place.

As you set things right, pillows and stuffed toys, the door opened and Ms. Nita stepped in. She saw you making the bed and she tutted like always.

“Now, now! My lady!” She came in and shooed you off the bed. “You need not be taking care of that anymore. I’m shocked you even do.” She smoothed her hand down the comforters and looked back at you with those strange wide eyes of hers’.

You looked aside with a small shrug. “I don’t mind making it.”

Ms. Nita sighed, placing her hands upon her hips as she turned towards you. “You do a fine enough job, but it’s my job you are doing. I promised our lord to take good care of you.”

A small scowl appeared on your face and Ms. Nita took hold of your chin. “I know that no girl is fond of an arranged marriage. But chin up my dear. It could be worse. There are worse houses than the Florescu house to marry into.”

You looked Ms. Nita in her slightly bulbous eyes and removed her hand. “It isn't the marriage.”

“Then what’s the sour puss look about?” Ms. Nita went over to your wardrobe and took out clothing for you.

The dress she picked was much finer than the one before. Somehow your wardrobe was a vast and endless sea of pretty dresses in delicate patterns and soft pastels. You crossed your arms along your chest, rubbing your palms along your bare skin. The castle wasn’t cold, in fact it was always perfectly warm. But you still got chills every morning when you would meet your new husband for breakfast.

“Come now. Get dressed and I’ll do your hair.” Ms. Nita was a peculiar sort of woman. She was extremely pale, short, and round. But she was a miracle worker with your hair. She was able to take the tight curls you grew and style it carefully with thought. She had been given the job of taking care of you in the castle. And while the official weddings had taken place, your new husband had other traditions e wished to follow before he considered you both completely wed.

Breakfast wasn’t held in the dining hall. Instead, you took it in your husband’s chambers. He had a large table set up before his fireplace, and Ms. Nita would serve you both then leave to let you two be alone.

That morning as you walked in, you noticed your new husband standing before the fireplace. He was wearing a bright blue robe with golden stars carefully stitched all over it.

Ms. Nita scoffed as she stepped in with the breakfast cart. “You aren’t even dressed, my lord.”

He turned from the fireplace and the robe fell from his right shoulder. The fire glowed about his dark fur, and one of his clawed hands rested upon the downy fluff of his chest. “I slept awful, Ms. Nita. How am I supposed to face my gorgeous bride when I have not had an ounce of beauty sleep-” He stopped dead when he saw you standing by the table.

He quickly lifted up his robe over his shoulder and a soft smile appeared on his face. “I am to be taken off guard apparently.”

“You didn’t sleep well, Forenz?” You asked and took your seat at the table.

Florenz’s dark eyes shifted around before he moved towards his chair. “I hope you rested well at the very least.”

Ms. Nita placed food upon the table, shaking her head slowly.

“I slept,” you answered plainly. You were keeping a cool front, but inside it felt like your soul was being ripped to shreds. Your chest was tight and your stomach was in knots.

Florenz had no clue as to how you felt. “That’s good. I am glad to hear such good news.” He smiled at Ms. Nita as she placed a solitary cup before him. Meanwhile you had small plates placed in front of you as well as a pot of tea.

Ms. Nita left the room and only the sound of the crackling fire was left.

Florenz picked up his cup and glanced inside. You picked at your food, too anxious to eat, but knowing you must perform or else he might catch on.

“I know technically it isn’t morning. At least, not from what you are used to.” Florenz murmured as he gazed into his cup. “It will get easier once you acclimate. I am sorry you have to do that too. But being what I am, I have no choice over my schedule.” He laughed then quickly shut himself up.

You looked up from your plate, seeing a yellow gleam to his eyes from the light of the fire. His bat-like appearance didn’t bother you, not like they thought it would. The village saw all sorts of creatures wandering through it. You had grown up seeing them hiding and staring from the rocks and behind trees, as well as walking along the same streets you did.

“Are you adjusting well?” Florenz asked. “I mean, I know you are used to a certain lifestyle, a certain affluence, and I am trying to provide that comfort to you.”

“What do you mean? You’re far richer than the Domitry family.” You quickly shut your mouth and cleared your throat.

Florenz nodded, looking back down into his cup. “Yes, well, even that can take some getting used to. But you’ve barely asked me for anything aside from art supplies. You don’t need to be afraid to ask me for anything.”

“I don’t need much,” you murmured.

Florenz sighed and leaned back into his chair. His robe once again fell away from his shoulder. “Don’t take this the wrong way, dear wife, but I had expected you to be much more spoiled than you are.”

You chewed slowly on a piece of meat then drank some tea to help you swallow more easily. “I suppose one would.”

Florenz chuckled. “I was not told you were an artist, mostly that you enjoyed fashion and having a large wardrobe.”

That explained one thing, you thought to yourself.

“I would have been better prepared had I been told more about you. But from what your father told me, I assumed you would be-” He hesitated and finally took a sip from his cup.

You set your cup down. “Vain? Lazy? You already said spoiled.”

Florenz looked at you surprised. “I did not want to make such harsh judgments. But I am sorry if that offends you.”

“Not really,” you shrugged.

Florenz’s eyes narrowed. “I suppose you get that a lot?”

You sighed. “I’ve thought the same things.”

“I suppose you’re trying to…distance yourself from that sort of image. Correct?” His soft smile returned. “Because I think you are doing quite well.”

“Thank you.” You really weren’t sure how to respond.

Florenz took another drink from his glass. “Do you have plans today? I suppose you’ll be going back to your art.”

“I will be. Do you have business to take care of today?” You pushed yourself away from the table and smoothed your hand down your skirt.

“Unfortunately I do. There is much to take care of before the full moon. I want to make sure once it is here I will be able to have the time to spend with you.” He stood with his glass and walked over to you. He extended his clawed hand to help you rise from your chair.

If there had to be one thing you appreciated about your new husband, it was how tall he was. Back home in the village, you took after your father, who moved to the village when he was young. Most of the village, like your mother, was on the shorter side. You often stuck out like a sore thumb. Florenz’s height was nice to stand next to.

“Not much longer now. I suppose you are nervous.” Florenz opened the door for you.

He had no idea. “A little,” you lied.

Florenz smiled and you could see the sharp fangs in his mouth. “I too get butterflies. But there is nothing to worry about. I think you and I have a beautiful future together.”

You nodded. “I hope so.”

Florenz lifted your hand and dipped down to kiss the knuckles. His tail under his robe swished back and forth. “Have a good day, my wife.”

“You as well.” You waited until the doors were closed and then you let your body sag and slouch. You clutched your chest as you walked down the hallway. Everyday you felt he was closer to figuring it out.

Once you were back in your room you sat and cried for a spell. Once it felt the weight in your chest was relieved you took deep breaths. You missed your family, you missed your home, and you were angry about being placed here.

You weren’t supposed to be here. You weren’t even the right girl.

The door opened and you turned to see Ms. Nita with a glass of water. You tried to return to your formal posture, but it felt impossible.

“I can’t keep it up,” you whispered.

Ms. Nita handed you the water. “Keep what up?”

The glass was cold in your hands, it felt nice after all the tightness and fear you held during breakfast. “I can’t tell you.”

Ms. Nita flitted about the bedroom, checking for dust while also taking out another outfit for you to wear while you worked on your artwork. “You said the marriage didn’t bother you. Then what is it? The hours? The altitude? Trust me, you will grow used to both.”

“I really can’t say.”

Ms. Nita stood and put her hands upon her round hips. “If you cannot say, then perhaps I can guess.” She pulled up another chair and sat before you. She looked you over with a very studious gaze that made you feel uneasy.

“Making your bed every morning has never settled right with me. Girls from wealthy families like yours barely know how to wipe their noses, let alone tuck a sheet properly.” her large eyes kept gliding over you. “You’re very modest for a rich girl as well. You seemed shocked by your clothing.” She folded her arms against her chest. “Are you rich?”

You bit the inside of your cheek.

“You aren’t, are you?” Ms. Nita whispered.

You looked at her with fear.

Ms. Nita sighed. “Oh dear. Oh, dear, dear, dear.” She clicked her tongue then held her jaw tight. “That foolish old mule pulled a grand switch didn’t he?. So what are you? A maid? A cook?”

“I was a governess to his younger children,” you admitted weakly. “But please. You can’t tell Master Florescu. Lord Domitry promised to give my mother money. My little sister is sick-”

Ms. Nita raised her hand. “Why did Domitry do it?”

You sniffled. “His daughter refused. She destroyed his office in a fit, and since we both looked similar he thought-” Your throat tightened up as you spoke.

She sighed. “That sounds like the real bride we were told about. Can’t say I’m surprised.” Ms. Nita stood up from her seat. “Lord Florenz deserves to know the truth of the matter.”

“No! Please!” You jumped to stand. “If he finds out, then Lord Domitry will stop providing money to my family. I won’t have a job anymore! My family relies on me.”

Ms. Nita gave you a cold look. “My master has been lied to. He’s been deceived. He was promised a bride.”

“And I am!” You exclaimed. “I am his bride. He would be happy with the one he was told, but he does have a bride as promised.”

Ms. Nita huffed. “Do you really think this would be the end of you if he found out? Domitry has made you a pawn, a victim. He used you to make a laughing stock out of Florenz. I have raised that man since he was a child. I raised his mother before him. The Florescu family is my family.” She jabbed her finger into your face.

“It guts me to think Florenz is in the dark. He’s no idiot, but he can be a fool.” She grumbled.

“I have not met a kind man with money,” you murmured.

Ms. Nita nodded. “I suppose you haven’t. Well, if Florenz is cruel, then I will deal with him.” She took your hand and patted it. “You have nothing to fear. Ms. Nita runs this estate more than young Florenz thinks.” She grabbed your hand and had you follow her back towards Florenz’s chambers.

She forced her way inside, no knock, no warning of your arrival. She strode in with confidence while you floundered behind her.

Florenz was getting dressed. He had on pants but his top half was bare. He squeaks as you both came in and he crossed his arms against his broad chest.

“Ms. Nita, what are you doing?!” He snapped.

“I have figured out a plot!” Ms. Nita raised up her arm, still clutchingyour hand.

You and Florenz looked at one another and his gaze went soft. “My dear, have you been crying?”

“Not the plot!” Ms. Nita snapped. She let go of your hand and paced around in front of Florenz. “I have discovered that Lord Domitry has played you for a fool!”

Florenz was still looked at you with concern, like he wanted to approach but his own partial nudity was making him embarrassed. “What?” he looked back down. “What was that, Ms. Nita?”

“Focus!” She snapped her fingers. “Look at her.” She waved her hands towards you. “Take her in. Think about all you know about her. I want you to think hard, Florenz. What about her stands out?”

You wait anxiously, folding your hands together and standing stiff as Florenz looks at you. His gaze is soft. Confused, but very much affectionate. His ears fold back as a shy smile appears.

“A lot of things. I’m very fond of my wife.”

Your heart isn’t sure in which direction it should go, and neither did you.

Ms. Nita scoffed. “No! She’s not a Domitry.”

Florenz’s eyes widened. He looked from you, to Ms. Nita, and back to you. “No! What? Come on now, Ms. Nita. No! Darling, what is she going on about?”

“She’s not a Domitry,” Ms. Nita repeated. “She worked for them.”

His whole body stiffened and the wings upon his back fluttered. Florenz looked at you again, eyes widened as he began to realize. “Oh,” he breathed “Oh!” He exclaimed.

Tears began to well up in your eyes.  “I’m so sorry.”

Florenz took a few steps forward, a serious look upon his face. “So it’s true? Domitry pulled a grand switch on me.”

“That’s right.”

“Well,” Florenz muttered. “That's good then!”

Tears fell down your cheeks as Florenz approached you and placed his hand upon your shoulder. “I am much happier with you. But I do still have Domitry to deal with.”

You weren’t sure what to think.

“What do you plan on doing?” Ms. Nita asked. “Both with this girl and the Domitry family?”

“She’s my wife,” Florenz corrected. “I will be her husband and protect her. As for Domitry, this marriage was supposed to end the feud between our families. But I suppose, if he wants to play me for the fool, then he will live with the consequences.” He walked across the room and pulled on his robe again to cover himself.

You watched him in awe, still barely taking in his words. Florenz handed Ms. Nita a sealed document, which she took and gave him a nod.

“Send that directly to Domitry, he will know what it means.” Florenz placed his hand upon your back, turning you towards him as Ms. Nita left the room.

You were shaking, afraid of what would happen next.

Florenz cupped his hands around her face. “What do we need to do?” He asked. “You must have family back in the village. Should we bring them here for safe keeping? Perhaps once Domitry is dealt with, they can have his house. After all, I’d like us to be alone for the full moon.”

“What?” You voice shook.

Florenz smiled on you. “I may have been fooled into marrying you, but I do not regret it. I find myself falling for you.”

You had been so terrified of your secret getting out, you had barely had a chance to think of your own feelings for him. You sniffled, falling into his arms to cry with relief.

“It’s alright, my dear. I will take care of you, no matter what.” he sat with you upon his bed, stroking your back until you calmed. You fell asleep in his arms and woke up tucked into bed.

Across the room you saw him sitting at his table, looking over a stack of documents and an open tome. His ear twitched as you moved the blankets and he turned in your direction. He stood from the table and approached you.

“I hope you rested well,” he said gently.

You rubbed your eyes. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Hush now. You’re my wife, what’s mine is yours.” He placed a soft kiss upon your forehead.

“I’m so sorry-” You tried to apologize but he tapped a claw over your lips.

“You were forced into a corner. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner.” He smoothed his palm up your cheek and tucked back loose curls.

“No, you don’t have anything to apologize for,” you murmured.

Florenz nodded. “Well, now that I am aware, let’s start back at the beginning.” He cupped your cheek in his palm. “I want to know you, the real you.”

You smiled brightly. “What do you want to know?”

“Your name might be nice.”

You chuckled, giving him your name.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmured. “It suits you much better.” He snuggled with you upon the bed. “Now, do you really like clothes so much?”

“Not really,” you chuckled. “As silly as it is, I like stuffed toys.”

Florenz’s fangs showed as he smiled. “That’s much more interesting.”

////

Without the constant stress of being found out lingering over your head, you’ve been able to enjoy life at the castle much better. Especially since your sister is getting the care she needs. Once he knew the story, Florenz was happy to take care of everything. Even as the full moon ceremony loomed, he worked to take care of the troubles caused by Domitry.

“It won’t be the first time a Florenz marries someone outside their station,” Florenz told you.

You looked up from your easel, having set it up beside him at his work table. “What do you mean?”

Florenz’s large ears twitched back. “Ah, well you see, My great-great-grandfather fell in love with his cook. So he turned her into a duchess. Made all sorts of stories for her, turned her into quite the gem. Then my grandfather took after him and married my grandmother who had been a practicing nun.”

“A nun?” You giggled.

“Oh yes. She had come from a more esteemed family, but after they came to ruin she came to god until grandfather stepped into the picture.” Florenz turned back to his work. "I still make donations to the convent regularly.”

You smiled softly as you continued to work on your canvas. “And now, you’re going for a governess.”

Florenz sat still with a deep look of thought upon his face. “I would describe you more as an artist than a governess. But luckily, our story has a funny twist to it like the others.” He smiled at you, trapping you in a gazefor a long moment.

You grew shy the longer he stared. You smiled,  and felt your face grow warmer. A nervous laugh then bubbled up. “What?”

“Just looking at you, my dear. I’m thinking about how lucky I am to actually like the person I am with.” His smile turned dreamy. “My parents were never fond of one another, so I always looked at my grandparents as inspiration.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you murmured.

Floren shrugged. “Yes, well, I think it all stemmed from the fact my parents were more inclined to their own. They had me and I think that’s the last time they shared a room.”

“Oh, I see.” You said softly.

Florenz’s ears twitched again. He looked up from his work, checking on you from the corner of his eye. “Do you think you’d prefer separate rooms when the full moon is over?”

You furrowed your brow. “What do you mean?”

Florenz glanced over at his bed. “Nothing. Ignore me and my babbling.”

You set your things aside and took off your apron, draping it over your chair. You then approached Florenz and placed your hand upon his shoulder. He twitched slightly, glancing down at your hand then looking back at his work.

“Are you worried I won’t want to sleep beside you?” You leaned down closer to him, slipping your arms around his neck. “Because I’ve thought about it.”

Florenz’s body went stiff and still. “You have?”

“Have you?” You spoke close to his ear which fell flat onto his head.

He turned to look at you and shrugged. “I would be a liar if I said I hadn’t. Especially considering how nervous I am for the full moon.”

“Then tell me about it.” You hugged him from behind. “I want to know.”

Florenz tapped your arms and he began to rise from his chair. You stood aside to let him up, wondering what he was going to do.

Florenz held out his clawed hand. “I’ll show you something.”

Taking his hand, he then led you through the castle, taking you further up than you had been before. You went into one of the towers, going all the way up the spiral staircase and through the door in the ceiling. Florenz let you up first and you stood in a room where the ceiling was entirely glass. The night sky was directly above you and the nearly full moon was so close you felt you could touch it!

“This is where we will start the ceremony,” Florenz murmured. He then motioned over to a massive bed in the back of the room that was covered by sapphire blue curtains. “We will spend all night there, and in the morning we will fall asleep there.”

This bit of news stunned you. “Isn’t that dangerous for you?”

Florenz waved his hand up to the glass. “During the night, this glass is clear. But during the day it will turn dark. An old family secret,” he chuckled.

“That’s amazing.”

Florenz walked over to the bed as you marveled at the night sky. He pulled back the curtains and stared inside. “I’m nervous about…being good enough.”

You looked back him. “Good enough at what?”

Florenz’s tail twitched behind him while his ears went flat against his head. “Being a husband is one thing,” he murmured. “But being your lover is something completely different. I have studied, and I have read up on the art. But studying and doing are two completely different beasts.”

You placed your hand upon his back and he shivered all over. Glancing down at you he saw the shy little smile upon your face.

He sighed. “I do not want the full moon to go to waste.”

“I have an idea,” you stepped closer to him. “What if we…practiced?”

His ears stood up.

“Is it against the rules? Because…I’m nervous too. But I don’t want you to be terrified and worrying on the important night.”

Florenz swallowed. “I suppose it’s not entirely against the rules.” He looked down at you. “I would call myself a hands-on learner anyways.”

A few nervous butterflies fluttered around in your tummy. “Then, maybe we could just…I don’t know, maybe just try a few things tonight?”

Florenz took in a deep breath and nodded. He extended out his arms and his robe fell from around his shoulders. “If you would like to, I am more than willing.”

You began pulling at the strings of your blouse, letting it fall open enough that Florenz could see the curve of your breasts. His robe fell upon the floor and he stretched his wings out a bit. His eyes focused upon you, seeing bits of you he had yet to spy.

“Let me help you.” He reached out, helping you remove your clothing. He did well with buttons, and as your skirt fell upon the floor he took a step back from you. Moonlight shown through your blouse and he could see the shape of you through the thin fabric.

Florenz cleared his throat and sat himself down upon the bed. He rubbed his hands over the tops of his thighs. Coming up closer to him, you slowly eased down upon his lap. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close and causing you to straddle his lap. You both shifted and laughed anxiously. Looking into one another's' eyes you grew silent again.

Florenz took the first kiss, plunging in as his hands grasped around your back. You leaned in, furthering the kiss as your hands went through the soft plumage of fur upon his broad chest. You sighed as your lips parted, and Florenz’s hands moved lower.

“Not so bad, huh?” he chuckled softly.

You shook your head. “I liked it.” You looked down at his chest, his dark fur turned pale in the center, leading a trail down his belly and into his pants. Your fingers traced the rim of his pants and Florenz shivered,

“Maybe we should…get fully naked,” you suggested with a crack to your voice. “Just to…” Your mind drifted.

“Yeah,” his voice fluttered. His hands went up under your blouse, touching bare skin. His lidded eyes glazed as he slightly pulled it up, glimpsing the bare bottom of your breasts. His hands dropped back down and he held back a smile as best he could.

“Okay, okay,” he breathed. “I can do this.” He moved you onto the bed so he could stand. He fumbled with his pants, losing grip a few times before he could get them loose. He tugged them down, keeping himself huddled over while your eyes were upon him.

You removed your blouse, sitting there naked with your arms crossed against your chest. You watched him rise up, standing his full height with his head partially hidden by the canopy. Your eyes traveled down his chest, his belly, down to the shadow against his groin.

“Dear,” he whispered.

You looked up as he knelt down to join you on the bed. You smiled to reassure him and lowered your head a bit.

“Are you cold?” He chuckled.

“A little.”

Florenz reached out, wrapping his arms around you. “Then let me warm you back up. It must be chilly without your clothes.”

You moved your arms, holding him as he held you. Two bare bodies pressed against one another. His fur was soft, and his body felt warm and strong.

“You’re so tender,” Florenz murmured. “So supple.”

Your cheeks burned. “Thank you.”

Florenz’s grip tightened around you and he buried his face into the curve of your neck. You whimpered softly as his cool breath beat upon your skin. You stroked your hand up the back of his neck and moved the other around his waist.

“Florenz,” you whispered.

He lifted his head, looking deep into your eyes. He cupped his hand around your cheek as his breathing began to even. “I was hoping this would help my nerves. But it feels as though it has only added to them.” He looked down your body with a look of lust. “Now I worry I will have no control over myself.”

You bit your lip. “How so?”

“I will turn into a beast.” His finger trailed down your neck, onto your chest, then glided between your breasts. “I will feast upon your body, and never quite satisfy my hunger for it.” His eyes flicked back to yours. “For you.”

You swallowed and remembered to breathe. “That doesn’t sound all that bad.”

“But it is. I do not know what I am capable of. Only that I now have the drive to do it.” He brushed his knuckles against your breast, eliciting a stuck breath in your chest. He laid you down upon the bed, stroking his hands down your body until he came to your thighs. He opened them with a gentle touch, moving his palms down your soft skin.

Florenz moaned to himself, licking down your supple thigh and rising back up with kisses upon it. He looked back into your eyes, staring up helplessly from the bed. His long tongue lapped over your skin again.

“Do you mind if I taste you, my dear?” He breathed.

You shook your head. “Go ahead.”

His mouth opened wide along your thigh, revealing his sharp fangs and teeth. He bit into the soft flesh, which only hurt for a moment. Then it turned into warmth and soft tingling. His mouth was pressed against you, tasting your blood as it beaded from the bite mark.

Florenz moaned, his body arching and writhing as he drank. He lifted his head from your thigh, pressing more kisses before he took another bite, much lower than the first. He moaned again, and those vibrations against you traveled up your body.

He licked his lips, letting out a shuddering breath. “Sweet is the nectar, but how is your wine?” He reached down, pulling open your plump mound to see inside. Wetness has gathered around the lips, and has given you a delicate glaze.

“You’ve become just as aroused as I have.” Florenz licked the corner of his mouth.

You shivered, watching his eyes then lookin down.

“Do you want me to touch you?” He breathed.

You swallowed again and nodded. “Yes.”

He looked into your eyes. “I didn’t hear that, my dear. Do you mind saying it again for me? Much louder this time.”

You gathered up your courage, hoping your voice didn’t break as you tried to speak. “Please touch me. I don’t know why, but your bites, they-” Your couldn’t bring yourself to say the words.

“Did you like that?” Florenz lowered down again. He kissed your breast, suckling it before trailing kisses down your belly. “I’ve never tasted anything as delicious as you.” He used his knuckles to open you, careful of his claws to not scrape your skin. His knuckle rubbed against the top of your folds. You writhed a bit, whimpering loudly at the touch.

“You appear to be quite sensitive, my dear.” Florenz sat back up and took a breath. “I appear to be getting drunk upon it.”

You swallowed again, trying to catch your breath. “It’s okay. I suggested we…that we do this.”

Florenz laughed softly. “I did not expect it to go so well. So temptingly.”

You stroked your hand down your body, making sure he saw. His eyes followed your fingers, watching them as you began to touch yourself. He focused intently while you circled around your clit, dipping your fingers inside before returning.

He spread his thighs, showing you what hung between them. His cock bobbed heavily in the shadows, a deep, dark red with purple veins. The head of it flared slightly, and the base tapered into a slight bulge at the base. He took the shaft into his hand, stroking slowly as he watched your fingers.

You then opened your arms beckoning him to come close to you.  His eyes widened, slightly glowing in the dark. He lowered himself down upon you, kissing you and embracing you as your bodies pressed together.

You stretched out your neck, letting Florenz bury his face there. Another bite and you moaned loudly, arching your back as Florenz grabbed tighter around you. Your bodies pressed tight together as he bit again. You gasped for breath, shuddering as his claws sank into your rear, angling you closer, mounting himself at the ready.

A quick pulse was all it took. A snake in your ear, a fluttering of your lids, and you and Florenz were inseparable. You stayed still, both quivering and aching for the next move, but savoring that first, sweet moment for as long as possible.

“You’re so warm,” his voice quaked. “I’ve never felt this-”

You held on tight to him, aching slightly from him being inside you. But it was a good sort of pain, just like when he bit you. “Keep going,” you urged. “It’s…it’s good.”

Florenz moved shakily, unsure at first. He took his time, finding himself a bit more confident as it felt better. The more fluid he moved, the more you felt as well. He fit snug inside you, so you were able to feel every inch of him. You closed your eyes, focusing on that pleasure as he pressed into you. He went deep, then stayed shallow, just to test what felt best.

He went still again, holding his breath.

“What is it?” You whimpered.

“I’ll come if I’m not careful,” he whispered. “I want to keep enjoying this.”

You stroked your hand down his back. “Can you only do it once in your whole life?”

“No. That’s not-” He chuckled. “I can do it many, many times.”

You smiled. “Then do it again when you are done.”

His eyes widened. “But…I thought this was just practice?”

You pulled him down close, kissing him until you felt a shudder inside. His mouth hung open, and he pulled out, releasing upon your thigh and belly. His body grew limp, and the expression on his face was more cute than erotic.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I’ll clean that up.” He took his pants, using them to mop up his mess. He then touched your loins, seeing them swollen with arousal. “What do I need to do now?”

“Touch me.” You wriggled your hips.

He rubbed his knuckle to your clit again, gently nudging it as he watched your wetness seep down onto the sheets. His eyes lidded watching and he lowered down, kissing and licking softly. You whimpered out loudly, panting deeply as the kisses grew harder. He suckled upon you, moaning softly as your thighs closed around his head. You trembled, arching slightly then pushing him away.

You fell back, breathing hard as Florenz wiped his mouth. “Was that…good?”

You nodded, covering your head with your arms.

Florenz rolled you onto your back again and smiled down upon you. “I’m glad we practiced.”

“Me too,” you breathed. “Now…you won’t be so nervous on the full moon.”

He kissed your breasts and then your lips. “Can we practice again before then?”

You giggled. “Maybe.”

Florenz laid down beside you, wrapping his wing around you to cover you. “At least…could I taste you again?”

You smiled shyly at him. “Did I really taste good?”

“You tasted amazing.” he nuzzled into the curve of your neck again. “So warm and soft upon my tongue. Your blood was like velvet.”

You sighed dreamily as he pressed closer. “That sounds nice.”

“Because it’s yours.” He kissed your neck and then nuzzled to your hair. “Because it’s you, I want you.”

“It was…good wasn’t it?” You said shyly. “Being entwined like that felt better than I expected. I had been told my first time would be painful. But you…even your bites felt good to me. But when you were inside me…I was shocked by how much I liked it.”

Florenz smiled proudly. “It was an experience. So wet and sweet,” he breathed. “So warm and…and deep.” he swallowed. “I need to be careful.”

“Is something wrong?” You asked.

He nodded then shook his head. “I’ll be fine.” He laid back down beside you. “Now that my nerves are gone, I suppose I am a bit more excitable.”

You smiled. “I see.” Rolling over you curled up against his body. “I uhm…I wouldn’t mind if you got excited again. I mean, what else have we to do today anyways?”

“Nothing I suppose.” he gave you a soft delicate kiss. “We should be careful though. I would hate for Ms. Nita to come looking for us and find us in the middle of practicing.”

You giggled and placed your arms around him. “Then let's close the curtains.”

[bet-on-me-13]

The Structure of the Infinite Realms

This is an updated version of This old prompt I did a while back.

...

So! The Infinite Realms are not just limited to the Afterlife. In fact, the Afterlife is just a single section of the Realms, and Each Realm is ruled over by their own Kingdom with their own Godly Rulers.

Lets give an Overview of a few of the Realms:

The Far Frozen: The Far Frozen is a Realm inhabited by Yeti's, who are Pacifists by nature. Their sole focus is to develop their medical practices so they can help as many people as possible. They are rules over by the Ice God, Frostbite, a kind and just King who uses his eons of experience to help those in need. The Far Frozen are well liked by all Kingdoms in the Infinite Realms, and have very few enemies.

The Medieval Isles: The Medieval Isles are a very recent addition to the Infinite Realms, and resembles the Earth Sterotype of a Fantasy Land. It is inhabited by many different races, from Elves to Dwarves to Humans. It was previously Ruled Over by a Draconic God known as the Tyrant King Aragon, before he was overthrown by his sister, the Kind Queen Dorathea with the help of a Sir Phantom. It does not have many Enemies among the Realms, but the Fae Wilds to seem to resent that some Elves live there as opposed to their original homeland.

Olympus: Olympus is the Realm of the Greek Gods, home to all the Gods who exist in the World and used to exist. It is ruled over by Zeus. It used to be a pretty major Political Powerhouse in the Realms, but after Ares went Rouge and killed most of their Top Gods, they lost a lot of Power.

Themyscira: After the Amazon's split off from the rest of Greece, they formed their own Kingdom with Hippolyta as the Godess Queen. It exists simultaneously in both the Realms and Earth. This Kingdom is well respected, but not as old or as large as some of the others. It has about the same Political Power as Olympus currently does, if not a little less.

The Nordic Lands: This is a Realm inhabited by the Norse Gods and all their peoples. It is not ruled over by a single Race of Gods, and is split into many different Warring Factions. One is the Aesir, Ruled over by King Odin. Another is the Vanir, formerly ruled over by Njord, but now ruled by his son Frey. There are also the Lands for the Fire and Ice Giants, and so on. They hold a good amount of Political Power in the Infinite Realms, but tend to stay Neutral in most cases.

New Genesis: This is the home of the New Gods, a race of Gods who is far younger than the others. They are ruled over by High Father, one of the surviving Old Gods, and the father of many of the New Gods. They are a fairly old and powerful Kingdom in the Realms, holding much Political Power.

Apokolips: This is a Realm filled with almost exclusively Demon's. It is ruled over by the God of Evil, Darkseid, and his Court of Minor Gods. It is an Extremely Agressive and even hostile Kingdom in the Realms, but holds itself back from attacking it's fellow Godly Kingdoms in fear of Retribution. They rarely interact with the other Kingdoms or discuss political matters in Meetings, but they are still a Kingdom not to be trifled with.

The Fae Wilds: This is the Realm that is the homeland of all Faeries and such creatures, like Elves and Gnomes. It is ruled over by the Fae Gods, Oberon and Titania, who use their cunning to obtain a good standing among the other Realms and maintain a good amount of Political Power.

The Spirit Lands: This is the Realm inhabited by mostly Nature Spirits, such as Nymphs and Fire Sprites. These lands are ruled over by 4 Elemental Kings, among which are Vortex and Undergrowth. These Lands are a sort of Middle Point in terms of Political Power, not too much but not too little. Although their image has been damaged by the Impulsive personalities of a few of their Rulers.

The Miracle Lands (Miraculous Ladybug): This is a Realm inhabited by a race of Gods that represent Conceptual Ideas, known as Kwami's. They are ruled over by the King and Queen of their Lands, Tikki and Plagg, the concepts of Creation and Destruction. The Miracle Lands are one of the oldest and most powerful of the Kingdoms of the Infinite Realms, and hold some of the most Political Power in the Infinite Realms.

The Ghost Zone/The After: This was what I really made this post to do. To explain my Headcanon for how the Ghost Zone worked in the grand scheme of things, the rest was just context.

The Ghost Zone is the collective Afterlife of all the other Realms, with Major Regions of the Realms dedicated to the different Kingdoms that hold a claim to the Afterlife.

There are Large Regions of the Realms dedicated to containing the Afterlives of the Godly Realms, like the Underworld for Olympus, or Valhalla/Vanaheim/Hel for the Nordic Lands. (The Norse actually have a shocking amount of Territory in the Ghost Zone, many joke that it's because Odin and Pariah Dark liked eachother due to how similar they looked.)

Each of the Regions is ruled over by that Pantheon's own God of the Dead/Death.

Hades rules the Underworld, and commands the different sections like the Fields of Asphodel, the Fields of Punishment, Elysium, and even Tartarus to some degree.

Plagg rules the Miraculous After (the Kwami's are not very creative with names). This is an Afterlife exclusive to the Holders of the Miraculous, as well as those who use Miracle Magic without having a Miraculous, like the Guardians. Also just the followers of the Kwami's (they have a small following)

The Norse have many Rulers for their many Afterlives. Hel rules over Hel, Freya rules over Vanaheim, Odin rules over Valhalla, and even Rán has her own tiny section for drowned souls. Plus a few more small sections.

The Acropolis is the Personal Afterlife for the Amazonians, and only answers to the Queendom of Themyscira. Pandora was chosen as the new Goddess of Afterlife when this was decided, and Acsended to Minor Godhood.

And there are many more, too many to list.

All the Rulers of the Afterlives defer to the Ruler of the Ghost Zone, who holds the most Power among the Gods of Death, as basically their Landlord. That used to be Pariah Dark, but after he went insane and had to be sealed away, the Ghost Zone fell mostly to Anarchy.

While the Afterlives managed to maintain stability due to having their own Rulers, the large regions between the Afterlives did not, and Rouge Spirts began to stake their claims to small plots of Land called Haunts. The most common among these were Ghosts, but there were some Fae, Spirits, and some smaller Gods (for some reason, some of the Kings of the Spirit Lands liked to use this Area as a playground to do whatever they wanted with no consequences).

It took Millennia, but eventually Pariah Dark was released from his Prison and then Usurped by a Young Godling named Phantom. Phantom then proceeded to bring the Realms under control, maintaining a few of the newer customs thay had appeared in the wake of Pariah's Imprisoning like Claiming Haunts, but otherwise ending the Era of Anarchy in the Realms.

The Ghost Zone is the Oldest, and most Powerful of the Kingdoms of the Infinite Realms. It holds Extreme Political Power, and has the favor of many different Realms. It's hard to not have that when you are an integral part of the Balance of the Godly World.

Thoughts?

[icyblogs]

anyone still thinking about fallout? haha anyways here’s more ghoul!ghost (-‘:

Fallout!AU Ghoul!Ghost x Vaulter!Fem!Reader i’d imagine this takes some time after the events of this. but can be read by itself. (: WC: 2.6K Warnings: dark fic, noncon, mdni. Note: thinking about how ghouls canonly are sterile. this is a known fact, only slightly broken by the miracle that is Saint Monica from Fallout 3- which to this day i’m still not sure if it was some sort of gospel or not as it was from Father Clifford, but regardless. 

“Well um, well, our community is always looking for new members, we’d be happy to have you!” Brown eyes drift down at your familiar form, tilting his head as he watches your mannerisms as you flit around nervously, too polite to outwardly refuse him. His joints ache as they pop absentmindedly by his side, fingers twitching to dig into the soft flesh of your waist- to claw into your skin, aching to reinstate his claim. “And, there’s a lot of homes being built still as you can see but uh-, but I have a guest room here if you’d like to stay here. Our overseer says there might be a storm coming tonight!”  

“Is tha’ right, honey?” Simon croons- voice reverberating in the quiet evening, gloved hand coming up to rest on the top of the doorsill. He leans forwards, soaking in the way you slink backwards into the house, your eyes traveling down the expanse of his broad body. 

He was truly a bad man, made worse by this wasteland, you should be running for the hills- not offering him a place in your home. Like letting a wolf into a chicken coop; an insatiable beast that once it had the taste of you, it wouldn’t stop until there was nothing left. To tear you apart- aching to see if you tasted like how he remembered; saccharine ichor, sweet candy floss- it was enough to make his teeth grit, molars grinding together. 

His eyes drift down to your left hand, noticing the blatant lack of jewelry, jaw clicking in place. No ring, no memory- it was.. not what he had anticipated when he first approached you later that evening after the communal dinner. Maybe it was blissful thinking that when you’d notice him, your eyes would light up- and you’d run at him- into his awaiting embrace, where you belonged. With your husband.  

But, the wasteland had never been kind to him, so why would it continue to be now?

It was mocking in a way, dangling something in front of him, like a piece of meat to a starved, old, dog- one that salivated at the mere thought of it. Of you.

It really was obsolete, how could the world think of keeping the two of you apart? You didn’t belong here with this.. community. With these people. Don’t worry, he’d show you the right way of the world. No need to stay with these vaulters, filling your head about how the world now supposedly worked- this place would probably be blown up in a year or so by some fanatics- why bother staying here?

But if you insisted on playing house here just for a little while, he’d be happy to oblige for a day. Maybe two if he was feeling generous Then you’ll come back home with him in the little slice of territory he’s carved out (blood feeding the plants, bone-marrow for the fertilizer, built on a burial ground of his own creation) to spend the rest of your time together, alone. The way it should’ve been. Maybe chained to the bed so he’d know where you’d be at all the time, so you wouldn’t get lost again. 

All safe and sound.

See, Simon never believed in luck nor fate until he met you all those years ago. And it’s pretty damn hard to deny that it exists when you’re standing in front of him more than two centuries later, and he may as well consider himself the luckiest man alive. 

“I, Simon Riley take you to be my wife.” 

He finds solace with you- even if you don’t remember who he was. Even if you fight against him as he makes himself at home, all but slamming the door behind himself; mud-trodden boots tracking along the wood, smearing dirt and crimson. You don’t have your ring anymore, but that’s okay- he’ll give you a new one so you know who you belong to. Rings of teeth (chipped, missing) along the column of your throat, scarring until there’s no concept of a misunderstanding left. 

“To have and to hold from this day forwards.”

It wasn’t your fault that you’d forgotten who you were- wasn’t your fault that you didn’t immediately go searching for him when you had woken up, but it was alright. He’d teach you. Break you apart and take the pieces, building you right back up to how he remembered you. 

Eventually to a point where he didn’t have to tie your arms behind your back with a belt or stuff a rag in your mouth to muffle your cries for help. As much as he loved seeing you bound- as much as he loved hearing your noises— it would be a shame to pick through any more corpses for the bullet going through the skull of anyone trying to interrupt the reunion. 

“For better or for worse. For richer or for poorer.”

He thinks he’s in heaven, sitting between your spread legs- a bruising grip on your thigh, the other on your stomach, keeping you firmly situated on the bed. Trying his best to ignore the garbled whimper when he pulls down his bandana, watching as your eyes fill with more tears at his face, or lack thereof. Truly earning his nickname, a grim reaper looming over your bound body, licking his chapped lips as he stares unblinkingly down at you. You looked scared but.. it’s okay. Your husband‘s here now, no need to worry.

He leans down to rest against your knee, scarred cheek against soft skin, giving a chaste kiss. He goes up, leaving a trail of wet kisses along the skin up to the gusset of your underwear, trying to recall how you smelt- and he groans, providing an open mouthed kiss to the fabric. Breath warm, reverent as he peers up at you, soaking in how your cheeks looked warm, the moonlight from the outside casting an ethereal glow. 

“Poor girl been all neglected, hasn’t she?” He grumbles- giving the fabric another chaste kiss as he peels it off your skin and watches as you writhe beneath him, like a mouse caught by a viper, struggling so much that it only causes his hold on you that much tighter. Fingertips absentmindedly petting against your stomach, making their way up to your breasts, tweaking your nipples to stiff peaks. He was languid with it, like he had all the time in the world. Now, he supposed he did. Slowly, softly- treating you as if you were glass. As if one wrong move would cause you to disappear. Tongue laying flat as he makes out with your pussy, relishing it the way it gushes for him- or how your hips buck when he sucks on your clit just right. 

Simon worked you like he was orchestrating a band- each string plucked to perfection, remembering exactly what you liked like you were the back of his hand- knowing what made you tick. What made you unravel. His free hand slips between your legs, causing your thighs to squeeze around his head when one of his fingers starts to coax you open. It wouldn’t be the most terrible way to go out, if it was from you. 

Taking his sweet time working you to the edge and then over promptly, eyes rolling back as he laps at your cunt as if your juices was nectar- pure ambrosia. Liquid gold- you really did taste just as sweet as he remembered. He holds you firmly down as he continues to work your high into overstimulation, it was messy- worshiping- tongue, mouth, teeth- and he brings you crashing over the edge for a second time before finally pulling back, watching as you tremble beneath him, eyes a little bit glassy. Brain practically melting out of your ears, unable to really focus- tears slipping down your cheeks, breathing in deeply through your nose as you try and regain some sense of coherence. 

He’s never thought you looked more beautiful.

“In sickness and in health.”

It was easy to forget what home was like. Years of corrosion- sinking into grooves of his brain, plaguing his thoughts. Paranoia, questioning— so many voices that it was hard to think. Yet as he looks down at your already tuckered out form, he only smiles- feeling at peace. No voices whispering in his ear- no phantom pains, he felt relaxed, for the first time in a long while. Home was where you were, whether you knew it or not. 

Breathing staggered, he kneads at the meat of your thigh soothingly as he works to fish out his cock with one hand, giving it a few lazy pumps as he lines himself up, smearing arousal over your puffy clit. He rests one hand on your knee, notching the head at your entrance- watching you closely as you give a little shake of your head. 

“‘ou can take it for me, can’t you love?” He encourages, starting to make his way home. The first inch takes his breath away momentarily, and he moves your knees so they are up against your chest. Watching you flit around and flounder- eyes wide as you gasp for breath behind the rag. Drool falling from the corner of your lips, toes curling at the sheer stretch. 

“Tha’s it. Biggg stretch.” He continues to push in until he bottoms out. Thighs pressing to the back of yours, eyes fluttering at the sensation of your cunt tightening around him like a goddamn vice- “Feels like a fuckin’ dream, love. She remembers me huh? Even if you don’t- fuck-“ 

His hand finds your cheek, throat tightening as he sees your panicked expression, the furrowed eyebrows, staring back at him behind a wall of tears. It was enough to make him almost pull out to comfort you. Almost- you’d understand why he was doing this someday, even thank him for it. “It’s okay, deep breaths, yeah? You can do it.” He coaxes instead, pupils blown out as he looks down at where the two of you were connected, giving an experimental thrust, nearly coming at the pretty muffled moan that makes its way out of your throat. It’s been way too long.

“Feels good?” You shake your head, and his eyes crinkle as a smile graces his scarred lips, his thumb brushing away one of your tears. Going slow at first but he starts to get lost in the feeling of his cock drags in and out of your gummy walls— and he starts to go rougher, ignoring your little whimpers and whines. How your feet try and kick free out of the mating press, and he all but snarls, head dropping to the crook of your neck, teeth nipping- almost as a warning as he continues to fuck you into oblivion. 

“To love and to cherish.”

He used to imagine a family with you back then before the bombs dropped. Take a vacation, build a nursery together- paint the walls. Bring a little piece of the both of you into the world. You always did reassure him that his past didn’t define him, that he would be a good father. That he was enough.

Living this long.. had its downside. He knew that. It was an ouroboros, a constant loop, a mindfuck. It’s been hell on Earth. He’s accepted that, a phantom- a ghost living in this wasteland, thriving on those who were more surviving rather than the living. But he never really considered nor cared about a specific aspect of it. Sterile, never able to reproduce. 

Simon had once wondered if one day you’d sit outside with him, dinner on the stove, watching as he built a cradle. He could’ve just imagined the baby bump and his eyebrows furrow, picking up his pace as beads of sweat drip down his brow.

It was wishful thinking. But that’s all it was- wishful.

Maybe in another life— but damn did it sound appealing now. 

He continues to rut into you, nodding his head as if you were in on the conversation he was having with himself. He could just imagine your stomach all round he starts to pant, dark eyes peering down at you. “Yeah you’d been such a good mama, huh? You’d give me a whole litter of them, wouldn’t you?” His hips stutter, squeezing his eyes closed as he hears your garbled sobbing. Trying to get air through the rag, nostrils flaring for breath. His lips drag up your jaw, gently kissing your eyelids as you keep them squeezed shut, muffled whimpers behind the cloth. “I love you so much. Missed ’ou baby.”

His pace stutters once- twice more and he lets out a guttural groan, releasing up against the base of your cervix. He glances down again, staring unabashedly at the milky fluid coating the base of his cock and his head goes a bit fuzzy at the sight. 

The sound of thunder booms outside, rattling the window as the moment comes to an end. Pulling out, he hums as he shrugs off his jacket, ignoring your small sounds of protests as he lays down on the bed next to you.

He easily maneuvers you, his chest facing yours as he starts to slot himself back between your legs. “Settle, jus’ relax love.” He spreads the combined come around before pushing it back inside, keeping you nice and plugged up. “I’m going to remove the rag, you’re not going to scream are you?” 

You look at the stranger- the man? Monster- it was hard to tell but you shake your head regardless, trying to appease him. “Course you won’t. Because you’re my good girl- and you wouldn’t lie to me.” Bringing the fabric out of your mouth causes a whine, jaw tingling and aching as you lick your lips, trying to regain some sort of hydration. 

“Pl- Please I don’t understand I- why are you doing this— please sir-“

“Simon. Don’ want you calling me anything else.” He interrupts your panicked rambling, frowning as he leans down and capturing your lips in a kiss. Soft, gentle— longing. Even if your eyes were wide and terrified, shaking like a leaf, flinching as you look back at his mangled face. “Now sleep. Don’t want any more talking out of you tonight okay?”

When you don’t respond he nudges your chin up, his brow-bone raising expectantly. “We have a long day tomorrow, don’ want you to be tired, okay?” You catch your lip between your teeth, hiccuping and confused. Eventually nodding, letting out a little squeak when he squeezes your waist, fingers brushing over the leather of the belt. “I know it hurts love, I know- ‘ll let you out of these in the morning alright, just don’t want you to gettin’ into any trouble.” Another smile, and he leans down kissing away the tears falling. “I’m glad you’re here.”

For the first time in years, he feels genuinely content, one leg over yours as he throws an arm around your shoulders, chin notching in on the top of your head. He doesn’t sleep that night, listening to your breathing as you finally fall asleep after a bit of struggling, fingertips absentmindedly trailing up and down your spine. He hears the steady pulse of your heart- sees the rise and fall of your chest, and he smiles, leaning down and kissing your temple. 

You were here. Doesn’t matter how, but you were here. Your current state was a problem- sure- but you had all the time in the world to get reacquainted again, and you’d learn to be happy again. To love him again. 

“Until death does us part.” 

“For this is my solemn vow.”

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Konnection ||

Pairing: Dragon Shifter!Ari | Drakaina Shifter!You.

Trope: You hate his guts and he loves it aka my favorite.

Description: You are a bratty little Drakaina. And do you know what happens to them? They get disciplined. By their Dragons.

Warning(s): Dubcon (just to be safe), smut with plot, chase kink, shifter couple, you straight up hate Ari, power imbalance, age gap, he's a warlord, size kink (gone wild), infantilization, humiliation, ass play (not his dick), his cock is too big, degradation, spanking, manhandling, hair pulling, unprotected p-in-v, creampie, doggy style, allusions to exhibitionist stuff, angry Ari, Daddy kink, he treats you like a kid and calls you one, cum play, brat taming, boob play, minor overstimulation, fear kink-ish. MDNI.

Note: I had so much fun writing this lmfao. Pissing off scary men so they can fuck me up hell yeah! Unedited because it's late and I am tired but I want to see something. Let me know if you liked it, thank you <3 

MASTERLIST 

. . .

You have always done whatever you please. Restraint and denial aren't— or rather, weren't concepts you were familiar with before you caught the eye of the tyrannical brute named Ari Levinson. It did not help that your stupid and treacherous spirit reached out to his when your eyes locked with his electric blue ones for the first time and konnected with him before you could stop it. As if Ari is not rich enough with his generational wealth and noble family, the fact that he leads the Military Legion of the Draconic Empire you belong to hence all the real power doesn't help your case. 

You hear a deep growl behind you and you angrily flap your shiny crimson scaled and gold streaked wings. They are miniature when compared to his colossal black ones that are scaled a dark teal and streaked silver. The sound of them cutting through the air as he chases your tiny form through the sky is so heavy that it puts strain on your eardrums, their enormous size causing actual turbulence in the air itself. 

Ari is a warlord and his Dragon form a battle hardened, much experienced arsenal full of tricks, infinite strength and agility and much training. You know you don't stand a chance against him, you didn't when you angrily transformed when he was about to put the band of his claim around your neck during your betrothal ceremony and you won't even if you by some miracle grow into his size all of a sudden. But his smug smile had been too much for you to handle, the lewd whistling and remarks of his filthy fellows only making it worse. You had confessed to him in a letter that you didn't want to marry him and you wished to revoke the konnection, you had always been clear about not mating in the Draconic way, and you did not want to marry anyone, least of all a filthy wardog covered in mane like some earthly animal. 

The thought makes you sick to your stomach. 

You hate your family for putting you through this. Not that you have any faith in Ari's decency to think that if your father had refused your hand to him he would have taken it as an answer, you still resent how your parents and other family members jumped upon the opportunity to serve you up on a gold platter just because a Levinson asked for your hand in marriage. 

You feel the sky tremble again. He is growling a warning to you. It is a prompt for you to stop and know better. To help yourself while you still can. Save yourself before things become irreversibly complicated. 

But you wouldn't be you if you weren't stupidly stubborn and childish. 

And so you spin midair and wheeze out angry smoke before you burst out the most scorching fire you can muster out right at Ari. Of course, the range and intensity is inadequate. The brute is too big and hard. You huff out and dash downwards and out of his grip because he reaches you at once, his already cunning Dragon features not looking too impressed with you. You chuckle as you go fly in the other direction, thinking you have fooled the assholic mass of scale, muscle and tyranny.

But alas! 

Your eyes widen and your mind doesn't comprehend it at first. It happens much too fast for both your perception and expectation to understand. And by the time you catch on, Ari's claw that easily holds you like a toy is tossing you on a mountaintop like you're nothing more serious than a doll before he deescalates himself on top of you and you gasp, your pearly beige wings darting to shield your eyes from what you suspect will be the crushing of your body under the brute's. 

“Shift.” You know not how he does it but the beast crash-lands against the ground with such force that the whole mountain shakes from the weight of his anger and yet he doesn't hit you. Dust clouds erupt all around you and you cough, squinting your eyes as you peek up at him from behind your wings to find he has surrounded you in the curtains of his own to shield you from the change in environment as your body lies between his claws and he glares down at you with his electric blue. 

You whimper and feel your jaw twitch as your lips tremble. Your forehead aches and you feel your eyebrows raising in an obtuse angle as a reaction to your condition. Ari— or rather, his form is titanous as he looks over you like the shadow of destruction, the air that his flared nostrils angrily exhale out fanning the entirety of your tiny form. You feel yourself beginning to break, anger giving way to regret and better sense scold your impulse. But then—

“Right now.” He emphasizes on his previous words and you hear an actual snap in your head before you feel your eyes blaze with anger. 

“Nu.” There is an unreadable shift in his harsh gaze for a few moments as he just watches you, wordless. Did you, a foolish little girl from a family of humble means, tell him; Ari Levinson, who has been nothing but generous to you despite your constant displays of dimwittedness, no? 

“I will not repeat myself.” To someone not belonging to your species, your conversation would seem like soundless mouthing for the pitch your kind uses in this form is inaudible to lower life forms. But you hear his threat loud and clear. 

“Yur nut the boss o' mee!” You owe the lisping and baby-like voice to your tiny form. Although it's normal for Drakainas to be smaller than Dragons, their smaller size comes with speed, a feminine cunning, sharper claws, short ranged but molten breath and expendability. But it seems in your case that when the sun was granting his children, your kind, their abilities, you were knocked out somewhere with a food induced coma. 

Though Ari has had enough encounters with you to know better, he still stops to stare at you; your unwavering foolishness. Are you, something so defenseless and vulnerable against him, seriously saying that to him when he is already so angry?

You stupidly gain confidence in the wake of his disbelieving silence. When you should be quiet, submissive and apologetic, you instead push yourself off the ground with the v-shaped mid joint of one of your wings and use the other one to wipe your eyes clean of their glaze. Your claws ball into tiny fists and you huff up at the mountain of a Dragon, pouting from how your nape hurts when you do. 

“Ugh, I tuld yu I din wan' marry yu, yu dumby brute!” You jump up with the use of your hind legs so you can bang your miniature fists on his firm chest protestingly. “Hate yu, hate yu, hate yu! Leamme!” You give him a smash with each word, glaring up at him like you're in any position to. “Dun wanna—!”

Ari is in actual disbelief of your sheer audacity as he stops his mouth from falling open simply because he is not used to this. If anything, he is a foreigner to this attitude being directed at him. Because do you even realize just how monumentally fucked you are?

“You either shift and make it somewhat easy for yourself,” you gasp and slip back onto your ass with a gulp when he lowers his great head to put emphasis on his words. “Or I rip your petulant little kiddy ass open as is.” Your eyes widen when you feel the tip of his monstrous form graze against your small leg. 

Fuck.

His Dragon cock alone is bigger than your whole Drakaina form.

There is something about the murderous glint in his electric blue eyes that finally makes you cease your race with reason and you let it infuse with you. 

Your body reacts before your mind can even form the intent of obeying him and you pout softly. Your traitorous little desperate soul and the damned konnection! 

“Oh, no…” Your speech returns to you as your body begins to shift and from the baby dragon form emerges a fully developed young woman. 

Exactly what he likes. 

“Oh, yes.” There is a deafening crack in the air before bright light hits your darkness accustomed eyes and you wince before bringing a hand to them for protection as you wince from the overflow of sensory data. 

“S- Stay back!” You warn and hop backwards as though you're still on your haunches. It'll take you a bit to readjust to your human form. It's not very common except for cases like weak Drakainas like yourself. 

Ari's cock is an angry red as it curves against his stomach. The sight makes you gulp and his not being bothered about it only makes it worse. Not that you mind being in your natural state too much, but right now you feel so exposed and vulnerable under his electric glare that you can't help but hug yourself. 

“You're only making it harder for yourself, kid.” 

“I am telling you, stay—” you quickly bend down to pick up a rock before you hurl it at him. “Stay back!” Ari turns sideways and his long hair flops along. When he turns to look at you, a crimson little cut glints in the sunlight for just a millisecond before his skin naturally comes together and closes on itself. 

Of course. 

“Ugh! I don't like you! Why don't you get it!” Your fists are balled at your sides as you huff and puff. 

The man only sighs as he closes in on you. 

“I swear— ah!” You scream as your foot slips off the edge and your body goes to tumble down, arms flailing about but before anything devastating can happen, a rough grip on your hair catches you and drags you back onto the ground. “Oh m- my—” he doesn't let you recover from your shock.

“Stupid and petulant girls like yourself never know what's good for them” you pout and whimper as your hair goes to cup over his that is holding your hair tight. “That is why they need someone to show them what's good for them” you jump like an animated character with a cartoon-like noise when his free hand swings through the air to crack against your ass. 

“Ow! Oh!” Ari doesn't stop. As he walks you back to the middle of the mountaintop with your feet barely touching the ground because of how he holds you, he cruelly warms your ass up until it's flushing a humiliating shade of red. “Stop! You brute!” You bounce on your toes as you try to dodge him by swinging yourself left and right but to no avail, Ari is too fast and his range is too great. 

“You don't say that when you fuck yourself stupid on my cock and cry like a little kid who is getting handled by their Daddy” your blood runs cold as the feeling of his words calling you out like a splash of ice cold water. 

Okay. 

Maybe your weakness got the best of you one or two times. 

Or a couple.

But that's not the point!

It's his fault, he's the manipulative tyrant! 

“I— ow!” You cry again because his assault on your ass is unceasing. “I— I've no idea what you mean, meanie!” He scoffs as he places you on your soles so he can bend you over to target your sitspots. 

“I am sure.” Your body rocks forward with his beastly hits. Your ass is stinging and you're sure he has blistered it with his stupid warlord hands. “Now get your tail out.” The humiliation makes you want to throw up. Cold sweat threatens to drown your body and your ears turn beet red. 

“What?! No!” You cry out when your words make him target your sore spots. “I- I dunno how to in this form!” He scoffs again. 

Your audacity is what keeps him going. 

“Do it how I taught you” okay, yes. But he's a bossy mean tyrant who doesn't back down if you deny him! And no one helps you because he's both your Konnection made and fiancee. 

As well as literally Ari fucking Levinson. 

You never really have a choice with him. These kinds of tricks aren't common for someone with your strength and state of underdevelopment most because you've never really cared about the Dragon stuff but one day the depraved dictator decided that he wasn't going to let you cum if you didn't grow out your Dragon tail while still in your human form. He went so far as to even threaten you with a spanking. And your readers can judge you all they want but if they had ever been stuck balls deep on Ari Levinson's monstrous cock with their pussy sore from the frustration and their hips so desperate that they throbbed with need, they'd understand why you laid weakly against his chest and surrendered yourself to his will before carrying out his messed up wish. To be fair, not that you would ever be fair with him, he had praised, kissed and spoiled you a lot after that. 

Not out of the goodness of his heart though.

No.

The pervert loved to stroke your tail and play with its base when he made you sit on his massive lap. 

“Or what?!” You demand angrily. 

It's a thing. You always submit -under his evil coercion, you must add- and do what he says. But then you recover and you act like you don't know him. 

Ari loves it. He has seen it all and there isn't much that isn't mundane to him. But you, you keep him on his toes. 

His ferocious little fireball. 

Ari finally stops the spanking. You wince as you feel your cheeks seethe. He brings you closer to his hairy face by the grip he has on your head. There is a complex look on his face. He looks done and unwilling to do to you what he must if you keep this up. 

“You know you don't want to find out” you watch his face for a slip, trying to sway his heart with an expression or two of your own. But as always, it doesn't work with the brutish dictatorial tyrant of a giant. 

So you whimper and try to look away but his hold restricts you. Choosing to avert your eyes from him instead, you whimper as you focus on fulfilling his demand. As you go about it, you cannot help but wonder why Ari wants you to do this right now. Usually when he does this, it's when you're cuddling— you mean, when he's cuddling you, okay?! Ugh!

“Oh…” You groan as you feel the crimson and gold tail growing out just above your ass. It's not painful but it makes you uncomfortable. As well as humiliated. 

“Stay still, or so the Sun help me” you don't need to be told twice. Never when you're so tightly held in his grip. It's too late. 

You feel Ari grab your tail and you whimper from the sensitivity, gulping down the bile that forms in your throat when you feel his long and thick fingers grazing the soft scales -he likes to call you a kiddie Dragon because of how nonlethal you actually are- as he slowly strokes the length. His fingertips feel the hot base for a few moments and your knees nearly buckle shut. The firm hold on your head helps keep you remain in the inverted 90° angle he's made of your body.

Ari spits on your pucker and you almost jump from the sensation of his hot spit landing on your hole. Oh, yes. It becomes too exposed for comfort when he bends you over like this. And no, it does not mean that you know this because he does it often. Absolutely not. You uneasily try to shift away but he hooks one knee in the curve between your stomach and thighs to keep you upright as his fingers work the natural lubricant in and work it open a little. The next blob lands on your tail and something about the sensory overload and his attitude makes you angry but you're too caught and weak. 

But still, before you can try to hold your own, the warlord is pushing the tip of your tail in your pucker and your eyes widen in shock. You begin to struggle. He has never done that before. 

“W- What are you doin— ah!” Even though your Drakaina skin is soft, the sensation of the rigid dents and your own body being forced into your tiny hole causes an explosion of scorching blood in your face. “Oh—! What are you doing, you! Oh my— owie Dada!” You break and though you don't see it, a crooked smirk of satisfaction makes its way onto his face. “Pleasie!”

There. 

You talk big game, but a little bit of pain and you're the most compliant little thing alive. 

“You look so pretty, kid” your features scrunch in discomfort as you squint at the ground because there isn't much else you can do. “Stuffed full of your own bratty little tail” your ass is so full of yourself. The humiliating sensation makes you pout. He gives a firm pat on your plugged ass before moving on and you nearly retch from the embarrassment. “Get on your knees” he finally releases your hair and you land on your hands just in time. 

“Y- You…” And your mouth is trying to run again the moment he isn't holding you. Ari snorts under his breath as he gets on his knees behind you. “Y- You're so twisted and weird! Military men—”

“It takes some nerve to act like that when I can literally see you messing yourself up like it's your job” you feel like screaming. You hate it and you hate him. He always gets what he wants and your traitorous body only aids his pompousness. “Dripping yourself silly like a soppy little bride slut” you feel the rough skin of his hands stroke against the sides of your sore thighs before he pulls you back towards him. “It looks like you pissed yourself like the stupid little baby that you are” your wrists become jelly and your upper body collapsed on your elbows when his scarred fingers dip between your legs to collect your sweetness on them before he spreads your petals to both feel your warm cunt and coat as much of his digits in your slick as he can.

“D- Daddy…” You hate it. The twisted use of the word scalds your tongue. And yet you cannot help it. Your thighs only quiver more. 

Ari brings his fingers to his lips and puts them in his mouth before sucking at them. “Hmm” his bigger body rocks against your much smaller one to rub his own spilling cock on your spanked skin. “Tastes like a silly little kiddie brat slut” your sensitive and tender skin does well in pampering his stiff skin and Ari uses your ass like a plush little pillow to stroke his cock.

“D- Daddy— I mean, you brute!” Sparks go off in your mind when you feel him stroke the summit of his dick against your drenched pussy as one of his hands hold you to his while by the grip he has on the curve of your hip. “Stooop! Owie! No! It won't fit!” And true to your word, your small pussy rejects his cock with a bratty squelch. It's one part of your body that is just like you. And Ari has punished it on several occasions for his misbehavior exactly as he does you. “I- I am too small you giant! Not everyone can be a colossal like you- ouchie!” 

He raises an eyebrow, amused. “Too small now, are you?” He is breathless from the strength it's taking him to be patient with your opening's constant rejection of his cock whenever he tries to push in. “You weren't acting like it when you made a spectacle of our engagement like I am some lowborn pauper that you can just humiliate like a peasant wife who doesn't have a whole generation of noble wives to represent” he bites back a harsh curse when his cock slips away again. His fingers tighten on your side and he pushes you tighter against him before realigning his cock with your bratty hole and slowly forcing it in with slow rotatory movements where he penetrates you spec by spec. “You weren't too small when you challenged your future husband and tried to burn him with your pathetic little candle fire” the insult makes you angry but his cock has intruded you and his satisfied pat to your ass coupled with your pucker clenching around your scaled tail renders you speechless.

“O- Owie!” It feels good. But the strain his girth puts on your poor band is almost too much. You fear you will rip. “D- Daddy, please!” That always softens him up. Oftentimes just a little but beggars can't be choosers. 

“You will shut up and take it if you know what's good for you…” But he is far too angry today. His hairy chest drapes over your back and the coarse hairs make your tender skin tingle. “Even though we both know you're too dumb to understand that” you feel him pull out of you almost all the way out before he plunges himself back in, his length cruelly pushing your velvet walls apart and reaching your cervix already. But Ari doesn't hit it just yet. 

“Oh!” You squeak out when your body rocks with another thrust and then another. He is gaining pace. You don't notice it but your ass has managed to push your tail nearly halfway out and Ari stamps it back in at the same moment he snaps his hips against yours. “Daddyyyy, hnng!” Regardless of your dislike of the name, it is the one you find yourself calling him when he has you bent over like this. 

“Tell me you're sorry for what you did” he peers at the sun that is changing its colour and Ari decides he can thoroughly address this later. It is not like you are going anywhere. You are his and he will never allow it. “Tell me it's because you're a stupid little kiddie brat who hasn't had a day's discipline in her life and that is the reason you need a husband like me to keep you on a short leash” the sound of his cock moving in and out of your tight pussy is so loud that it is clear even in the heavy winds. Your pucker blinks around your tail. “Say it!” The harsh strike he gives to your ass has you crying and parroting out his words before your mind can catch on. 

“I- I am sorry for… for… ah!” His stiff tip touches your cervix and the bittersweet pleasure makes you choke him out. His baritone groan grinds its way into your ear from how his colossal form is bent over yours so he can reach your neck and hear your whimpers. “I am sorry for what I did today, Daddy!” 

“Keep going” he demands with a smack to one of your tits now. You jump up from the shock. Damn, you didn't even know he could reach you like this. He continues to fuck you like a hound taking his bitch. 

“I, uh…” You rake your mind for what he demanded of you, sighing in relief when you remember though his assault on your sensitive spot makes you arch your back. His beard digs into the skin of your jaw and shoulder when his mouth reaches for your carotid pulse. “I—” he takes a beastly sniff of your bubbling vein and you nearly give up but a pinch to your nipple brings you back to your task. “It's— oh, yes!” You finally remember his words and get to it, your sore ass cheeks clapping from how rapidly he is fucking into you. “It's because I've never seen a- a-” your eyebrows furrow and eyes flutter shut when his lips latch onto the skin of your neck in an unfriendly way. “Ah!” His fingers find their way to your throbbing cunt and you let out the most obscene moan you have ever heard. 

“Say it.” He growls before he begins to suck a mark of his ownership into your tender skin.

“It's because I've never seen a day's d- discipline in my life and— fuuuck!” The feeling of his rough finger pads is delectable against your soft folds and your head collapses between your shoulders. The vibration of Ari's hum against your skin along with the breathtaking jab he gives to your cervix makes your head spin and you give up. You are yet to build tolerance to his touch. Your high bubbles out of your loins like molten lava and your toes curl as your body tries to stretch to both react to and withstand the strong orgasm. “I am a stupid k- kiddie brat slut who needs a hubby Daddy to keep her in her place” you mumble out in one breath as you let yourself rock back and forth along to his thrusts, mind numb and pussy dumb. 

Or is it the other way around?

“And who is your hubby Daddy?” Ari lets your cunt go to grip both your hips so he can go into his incubus-like trance. 

“You” your words are nearly incoherent but he hears them just fine and with much satisfaction. “Only you are my hubby Daddy…” You are thankful for the temporary vertigo that has taken over your senses. It renders you deaf to the filth he makes you say.

“Here's what's going to happen now” he says once he has run his tongue over the very noticeable bruise he has made on your neck. “I am going to fuck all the funny little thoughts out of your rebellious little head until you're rightfully wearing my cum” the overstimulation makes you uncomfortable and both of your holes sensitively clench. “And then we are going to fly back to the venue and you are going to thank me and kiss my hand to show your gratitude after I put the band on you” you feel his speed increasing and you further lower yourself to hold your head; bracing yourself. “You are going to kneel as you do, so everyone can see you for the hypocritical little whore you are.”

And Ari Levinson always gets his way. 

. . .

I appreciate reblogs <333

[papiliotao]

・❥・AS OUR WORLDS COLLIDE

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ reader: gn

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ characters: scaramouche, xiao, kazuha, heizou

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ content: royalty au, hurt/comfort, angst in one part, each part is connected but most of the parts can be read separately (except heizou's, which ties in closely with kazuha's), forbidden love

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ synopsis: A humiliating defeat at the hands of a rival nation forces your parents, the king and queen, to send you to the kingdom of Inazuma while they deal with the ramifications of the lost battle. While they are back at home attempting to quell the rage of their subjects, you are out exploring the world, and along the way, you just so happen to meet a few loyal companions. Unbeknownst to you, several of your new friends are concealing secrets that could alter the course of your entire relationship...

Thinking about…

KUNIKUZUSHI, the rebellious heir to Inazuma’s throne and your close childhood friend. He’s been with you ever since the fateful day where destiny ordained that you would leave your homeland to seek refuge within the nation of eternity, and he’s been dear to you ever since.

When you first met Kunikuzushi, he was innocent. Soft and pure like a flower flourishing under the gentle radiance of dandelion-tinted sunlight. He was the first person to comfort you when you arrived in Inazuma, and from then on, your carefree days were filled with luminous smiles and shared laughter. From forbidden late night rendezvous to the occasional sparring session, you and Kunikuzushi had done everything together back when you were younger.

However, times have now changed. Now that he’s older, his mother expects him to take part in governing the country, and throughout his time serving the people as a prince, he’s seen things that have caused him to change.

Kunikuzushi doesn’t spend as much time with you anymore. Whenever you ask him to accompany you somewhere or do something with you, he refuses and claims that he’s busy. Even his tone has become colder. The distance between you is beginning to feel unbearable, but on the better days, you are able to see that he still holds an ounce of love for you.

On days where you manage to hold brief conversations with him as you walk down the winding corridors of the palace, he half-heartedly asks you how you’ve been. Although he sounds rather dismissive, you know that Kunikuzushi has long since discarded any semblance of care for others around you, so the fact that he’s going out of his way to talk to you is a miracle in and of itself.

Little do you know that whenever you part ways, he looks over his shoulder to gaze at you longingly. He wishes that he could turn back time, rewind everything to an era where his greatest worry was what he would do on his next adventure by your side. 

However, now he’s older, and his mother is expecting him to marry the heir to the neighbouring kingdom soon. The least he can do is distance himself from you, trying his best to eradicate all the love he once held for you. But maybe — just maybe — he’ll be willing to risk everything and run away, just for you, if his love is reciprocated.

XIAO, a knight from your kingdom who’s tasked with the tall order of protecting you and keeping you in check. Your parents sent him to Inazuma after your previous guard resigned, and since then, he has been your only friend from your homeland. He’s not always by your side; he trusts you enough to allow you to make your own judgements. However, in the dead of night, when you’re not sneaking off to meet up with any of your friends, Xiao is your sole companion.

He dutifully stands outside your bedroom door as pitch black curtains of night drape themselves over the world, and somehow he is able to stay there for what feels like an eternity, protecting you until the gentle caress of the sun graces the earth once more. It’s impressive how dedicated he is to you.

But for all his professionalism, deep down, you still wish that he would drop the formalities. After all, he’s the final link you have to your home, a place near and dear to your heart, so you would rather treat him as a friend as opposed to someone below you. However, there is an unspoken distance between the two of you — one derived from the despair rooted within the system of rigid social classes set within society.

Xiao is aware of this. However, Xiao is also aware of the fact that he cares about you. He cares about you far more than he should. The way his heart races feverishly in his chest whenever you attempt to strike up a conversation with him, the embers of a faint blush that burn subtly on his cheeks when you make eye contact with him, and the electrifying sensation that graces his nerves whenever you accidentally brush your hand against his are enough to realize that his feelings run deeper than they’re supposed to. So he conceals them behind a mask of indifference, masquerading the halls of Inazuma’s palace under the false pretense of apathy.

All he can do to display his affections is protect you, but regrettably, he can only keep you safe in the face of physical threats. With that being said, there is nothing he can do about the nightmares that plague your mind whenever the magical hour of midnight strikes. Darkness fills your dreams, turning an oneiric diary full of serendipitous moments of nonsense into haunting wastelands reminiscent of the rubble-filled streets of your homeland in the aftermath of the war that had cost you the entirety of your former life. It is only by the cover of the unlit sky that you will allow yourself to cry, unveiling all the pain and grief the defeat of your nation has caused you.

Xiao is certain that visions of your kingdom haunt you in the dead of night. He is absolutely positive. Because whenever he closes his eyes in order to seek a brief moment of respite, he is also catapulted into a moment amidst the turmoil of those fateful days.

So on seemingly starless nights where your sobs echo down the desolate corridors of Inazuma’s royal palace, Xiao quietly opens your door to slip into your bedroom. He silently walks over to your shivering silhouette and shyly embraces you, sitting down on your bed in order to gaze at you with pain swirling around within the golden hues that act as a window to his soul.

Embracing you. Holding you in his arms. Simply being in your presence. It all feels so wrong to Xiao, but at the same time, it feels so right.

Your guard is grateful that the shadows keep his expression hidden because if you were to see the look on his face, the fragile illusion that he had carefully crafted would shatter under the weight of his emotions, and you would realize the truth — the truth of his love for you.

KAZUHA, an enigmatic young man who met up with you often once upon a time. Although you knew nothing of his background, you could tell that he was a kind individual, so you never bothered pressing him for any details. Besides, his presence always caused a feeling of tranquility to settle within your forlorn heart.

However, it has been a while since you’ve seen him. It feels as if he has become one with the wind itself, vanishing without a trace. On especially sentimental nights, your mind occasionally drifts to the thought of him, reminiscing the good times you spent together.

Your first meeting with him was purely coincidental, yet everything that transpired felt as though it was written in the stars hung in a midnight sky. Back when you were a child, you enjoyed exploring the vast forests surrounding the palace grounds, curious as to what secrets were laying hidden within the rarely-traversed areas of the estate. 

It was on one such occasion that you had heard a mellow tune drifting in the breeze, entrancing you in a way that made you feel compelled to trace it back to its source. As the sound of the dreamy fantasia grew louder and louder, enveloping you in a warmth reminiscent of the sun on a cloudless day, you approached a clearing in the woods that looked like a manifestation of a fairytale. 

That was the first time you laid eyes upon Kazuha. You remember the way you were immediately enraptured when you gazed into the sea of stars present within his eyes and heard his soft voice when he nonchalantly greeted you and started up a conversation.

From that day on, you began sneaking out of the palace (whenever Kunikuzushi was busy attending to other matters) to meet up with Kazuha. He would tell you stories of distant lands and teach you how to play music using nothing more than the leaves strewn about the mossy forest floor. From time to time, he would also ask you about your life, but he always strayed away from the topic of you being royalty. Instead, he asked you about your hobbies and ambitions, taking an interest in you as opposed to your status.

Was he a rather suspicious individual? Yes. But he was also someone who always made you feel free. You felt like yourself when you were with him — not the heir to the throne of a foreign land but simply and irrefutably you.

Times with Kazuha were lighthearted and liberating, so when he abruptly disappeared into thin air, a feeling of devastation gripped your heart. Day after day, you awaited his return, but he never did show up again. Eventually, you were forced to admit that he wasn't coming back.

You knew nothing about him, so it was quite literally impossible to track him down. All you could do was wait and hope that the threads of fate would allow you to cross paths with Kazuha once more.

Unbeknownst to you, the boy with hair weaved of starlight and eyes tinted a hue reminiscent of autumn leaves is still out there, but he no longer has the time or freedom to meet up with you. He is too preoccupied with assisting in managing the affairs of his clan. The Kaedehara clan. Although he feels honored to follow in the footsteps of his ancestors, sometimes his family legacy feels just a slight bit too heavy. In the midst of such tumultuous times, he wants nothing more than to run back to you — back to the carefree days where he was simply a foolish teenager, hopelessly in love with you.

But even Kazuha knows that his wish is one that can only come true in the most whimsical of fairytales, so he keeps his distance from you, trying his best to forget about a love that will never be.

HEIZOU, the up-and-coming investigator you hire in order to discern the whereabouts of your missing friend. You keep your meetings with him a secret from those in the palace because you don't want them to find out about Kazuha, but thankfully, Heizou has no trouble operating with stealth.

Your conversations and outings typically consist of interrogations and attentive searches for clues pertaining to the disappearance of Kazuha, but so far, you haven’t found any leads. It’s rather strange that someone as talented as Heizou hasn’t been able to locate Kazuha, but you don’t want to question him too much, lest he refuse to help you due to irritation.

However, Heizou is hiding something. You haven’t caught on yet, but he fears that you will soon. After all, from his conversations with you, he has inferred that you are bright. Not quite as intuitive as him, but you’re smart enough to understand him, unlike most of the people he surrounds himself with.

Heizou knows where Kazuha is. In fact, he’s friends with Kazuha. He’s only refrained from telling you due to his dear friend’s request. Kazuha doesn’t want you to find him because if you do,  he knows he would give up everything for you in a heartbeat. His wealth. His title. His clan. Everything.

But as Heizou gets closer to you, he begins to realize how much you care about Kazuha and how much you worry about your missing friend. He finds it endearing in a strange sense, and for some odd reason, his own heart pounds uncontrollably each time your dedication peaks through your unphased demeanour. 

Heizou admires you — almost a little too much, and over time, he begins to understand why Kazuha thought so highly of you. Although you’re royalty, you’re not conceited or pretentious. You care deeply for those around you, and that touches Heizou’s heart.

So for now, he half-selfishly keeps Kazuha’s secret to himself, abiding by the wishes of his friend but partially for his own benefit. As long as you are unaware that Heizou had already solved this case long ago, you will continue to search for Kazuha, constantly rewinding the hands of a universal clock, extending Heizou’s limited time with you.

sorry if there are any mistakes!! i am editing this at an hour where i am hehe not so clear-minded. royalty au brainrot has such a grip on me (the fact that i have another kazuha royalty fic in my drafts ajfldsfj). anyway, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or commenting! thank you for reading, and have an absolutely spectacular day/night

[findingnemosworld]

𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 - 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐤 𝐬𝐳𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐳𝐥𝐚𝐢

・𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬

( 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 )

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐮𝐞, 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲, 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜!!!

" Fiú " He whispers as he securely held the newborn in his arms, as he added " You’re a miracle, do you know that? " his gaze shifts towards her as she slept soundly on the hospital bed, " You almost gave me a scare, you and your Anya too – but I knew that you were protected, that you’d be the miracle to light up our lives "

His mind draws back to the day she disclosed the news, the elation as well as the nerves that had engulfed him almost instantly, the notion of becoming a father, much less a young father had indeed terrified him, especially given the fact that it felt almost as if history was repeating itself, his parents were young when they had him; his father wasn’t exactly the typical father he’d seen growing up.

It wasn’t a secret that his relationship with his father had long lasting impacts that weren’t at all discussed until he became an adult and was able to build a healthy set of boundaries yet every now and then, the fear of becoming his father would crawl up throughout the grueling months, however he was grateful for her; as she had come at a time when all hope was lost for him only for it to be restored with the birth of his son, Matheus.

" I never had the picture perfect childhood growing up, Fiú " He proceeds, smiling as his son small hand gently gripped his index digit before he added on, " Your nagyapa had a set of rules that I followed to become what he wanted, sure I love football, and I’m grateful that it allowed me and your nagyapa to still have somewhat of a relationship, but … " he lets out a soft sigh as the thoughts of becoming his father crawled back once again.

He finally manages to speak up in the softest of tones," I want you to grow up and be the best man I know you can be, the kind of man that stands in the face of any hardships put in front of him, I want you to grow up living your life to its fullest potential, not worrying about the past … " he paused, recalling the grueling hours he’d spend with his father training to be the ‘best footballer’ he wanted him to be.

" I don’t want you to feel that you have to be a football player just to please me Fiú, I want you to choose what you love; I’ll support you wholeheartedly in any path you choose, me and your Anya too " He said with a soft smile.

" Your Anya will tell you this over time, maybe before I do but things haven’t been easy for me – my bond with your Nagyapa was all about football so much so that when I grew up, I had to build a lot of walls between us, I love him but I’m also angry at him which is why when you grow up, I want us to always be able to speak to each other, and for you to not feel like you have to hide anything "

He chuckles to himself, recalling how he had to hide his relationship with Matheus’s mother for nearly three years before he was finally able to disclose his love affair to his parents, his mother had been so elated while his father seemed less than thrilled yet remained as composed as he can, " Your Anya and I had to sneak away more than once so if you ever find a girl, don’t hide her from me or your Anya "

" And … " He paused, his voice becoming shaky as tears began to roll down his cheeks before he added on, " I promise you Fiú that you and your Anya will never need anything, I promise you that I’ll never become my father, that I will be the best Apa you’ll ever have "

He leans down to press a father light kiss to the top of Matheus’s head, unaware of the fact that she had heard just about everything he said, tears brimming in her eyes — she knew the struggles he had faced with his own father, so to hear him utter such words was the confirmation she needed that he was the right choice.

Since his birth, Dominik had become a brand new man — a hands on father despite his very grueling schedule, he still managed to make time for the two of them, especially Matheus, she could see it in his eyes everytime he held him, he was in love with the notion of parenthood so much so that on one evening, while she was making dinner, she hears a loud cheer causing her to poke her head out of the kitchen in confusion, " What’s wrong? "

Dominik and Matheus were in the living room, he picked the boy up causing the baby to giggle, he looks up and says. " He walked baba, our baby boy walked "

Her eyes widened, a soft smile across her lips. " Really? "

" Yes, hang on let me set him down again " He said, excitedly standing up on the end of the living room, " Gyerünk fiam, gyere az apádhoz, édesem! "

She watches as Matheus struggles to stand up, leaning against the couch before he began to waddle in leisure steps towards Dominik, walking the entire trail until he fell into his father’s arms, a sob escaped her lips at the sight. " Oh my goodness " she whispers.

" Oh I’m so proud of you " He murmurs, embracing Matheus who giggled softly in his arms, " I’m so proud you fiú, you’re truly an angel my sweet boy "

She walks up to them then sits down, " I told you, he’s your son " she murmurs, pressing a soft kiss on the top of Matheus’s head then on top of his head. " My sweet boys "

Dominik grins, " Matheus, what do you say we go and make something for your Anya while she cooks us food hm? "

She giggles, " Domi, the box of handmade gifts is full, no need for more "

" If I can give you the world I would, you’ve given me a reason to live " He embraced Matheus then leaned in to peck her lips.

She smiles, " You are something else Dominik Szoboszlai "

He grins, " And don’t you forget it? " he stands up with Matheus in his arms as they walk to his nursery.

She watches them, with a soft smile across her lips – if someone would have told her that the sweet boy she met in the park would end up becoming the father of her baby, she would have definitely fought to the moon and back at the time, knowing just how much they struggled with his father viewing their relationship as a liability, they have definitely crossed the hurdles to get this far.

Later, that night as Dominik crawled under the covers, he pulls her into his embrace, nuzzling his face in the curvature of her neck drawing out a giggle from her, " Did he fall asleep? " she asked.

" He did thankfully " He chuckles before adding on, " And now his apa needs some loving too "

She rolls her eyes, " Domi " she groans playfully, " We literally had two rounds in the shower earlier " she reminds him of what they’d done before picking up Matheus from Trent and Lilly’s house.

He grunts then whispers against her neck peppering soft kisses in between," I’m sorry for loving you so much that all I can think about is my cock buried deep inside of you "

He managed to draw out a laugh from her, " I can’t believe you … "

He caged her in his arms then pecked her lips before murmuring softly, " Gyerünk, kislány, kérlek. "

" You better be quick, you know how Matheus gets " She states with a playfully warning tone.

He grins, " I’ll be as quick as Sonic "

She giggles as they hastily sneak in a quickie before exactly fifteen minutes later, Matheus’s cries were heard from his nursery, she shakes her head then sits up. " I’ll check up on him " she pecks his lips then slips on his shirt before walking out of their bedroom.

Dominik sits up as well, still finding it hard to believe that this was his life, parenthood at this age wasn’t a facile task, yet he wouldn’t have it any other way — getting to experience this chapter with the love of his life all the while his career was flourishing was everything he could have hoped for and then some.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her footsteps, she returns to her position under the covers and said, " I swear if he was able to talk … he’d be worse than you when I’m distracted by work "

He chuckles at her remark, whenever she was occupied by paperwork as well as assignments for the newspaper she worked for, he’d become somewhat akin to a child; would do anything and everything to get her attention. " Don’t act like you don’t like it when I behave like a child baba " he murmured

She giggles, " I do, I do … in some cases "

He tugs her back in his arms before replying to her statement, " In that case, let me be a baby then and cuddle you "

" By all means " She whispers, her digits threading through his hair as he buried his face in her neck.

_

A year had passed before they could make sense of it; Matheus had grown up significantly since then — becoming more aware of his surroundings, that prompted her to take him to the final match of the season, Liverpool were going up against Manchester City to finally be crowned with the Premier League championship, what a grueling match it had been for both sides, she sat in the box with Matheus in her arms as they watched the action unfold.

It wasn’t a secret that each time these teams met, it was a game of high stakes and this time was no different — both teams weren’t relenting that easy, hence why the first half had ended with a negative 0-0 draw, she held onto Matheus as she sat next to his parents, his mother turns to her and smiles. " I’m so glad that he has you in his life kedves "

She smiled at the remark then said, “ We are lucky " she gestures to Matheus who was babbling in her arms.

The pair conversed until the second half was well underway – Matheus was now sitting on his grandmother’s lap as she watched the action unfold again, she knew just how important this game was for Dominik, ever since he had joined Liverpool he set out to achieve great heights, having won the Europa League, EFL cup and the Carabao cup, the Premier League was just the icing on the cake.

" I’m scared " She murmurs.

His mother smiles softly, " I wouldn’t worry kedves, Dominik knows what he’s doing "

Indeed, right then at the 89th minute, Alexis Mac Allister had been tackled by Kyle Walker this resulting in a penalty being given to Liverpool — whilst the crowd had naturally expected Mohammed Salah to be the one to take the penalty, the Egyptian had given the ball to Dominik who placed it on the pitch to mentally prepare himself for the penalty.

Her hand clutched her necklace as she closed her eyes silently praying to herself up until she hears a ripple of cheers causing her to open her eyes, witnessing Dominik be embraced by his teammates as the scoresheet changed to 1-0 for Liverpool.

" He did it! " She squeals, grabbing Matheus to embrace him before embracing his mother. " I am so happy "

" I told you kedves, I told you he’d do it " His mother smiles.

Later on, the families of the players were lead on the pitch — Dominik ran towards them, embracing them both before planting a soft kiss on her lips, " Did you see that baba? " he whispers.

" I did " She giggles, " And so did Matheus, we’re so proud of you my love "

He embraces them again then takes Matheus from her, where some of the players and their children were playing together, she pulls out her phone to snap pictures of the pair while his parents watched on, his father was even joyous with pride over how much Dominik had achieved both as a player and a person. He looks at her then says, " You’ve changed him for the better, köszönöm lányom "

She smiles, " he changed our lives, I wouldn’t have asked for a better father to Matheus "

Their attention was suddenly drawn to Matheus who waddled and kicked the ball into the net, being cheered by the fans still in the stadium celebrating Liverpool’s win, Dominik was so joyous that like a child he cheered on his son loudly, Matheus giggling at his father’s reactions, she turns to her father in-law and says, " You’re proud of him, right? "

" Beyond proud " His father murmurs before returning back to his wife.

She makes her way towards Dominik, and giggles. " Do you reckon he’ll be as good as his apa and nagyapa? "

He chuckles embracing her as they watched Matheus run around with Luis’s daughter, he looks at her then says, " I’ll support him with whatever he chooses but I won’t lie, if he chooses to be a footballer I’ll also be happy "

She beams at his remark, " You’re the best father Domi "

He proceeds to embrace her and murmur in her ear, " Thank you for making me a father baba "

A week had passed since the celebrations, Dominik had been given a brief period of rest that he decided to take full advantage of by spending every waking moment with Matheus while she had managed to catch up with the work she had, it wasn't facile yet she was grateful for every moment even the messy ones, as one night - she returned home to the sound of giggles coming from Matheus which drew confusion across her features, those giggles could only mean one thing, he was roped into something by his father despite being a one year old, " Boys, I'm home! "

" In the kitchen! "

She placed her shoes and bag on the side before walking into the kitchen to find the most amusing sight, Matheus was in his chair, his face smeared with chocolate while specs of flour and cocoa are splattered across the counter. Dominik, who was dressed in an apron and a pair of shorts grins before greeting her, " Well hello baba "

" Hello indeed " She giggles, reaching over to peck his cheek before cooing. " Hi Matheus, Hi baby "

He pouts playfully then says, " How come he gets a proper greeting and I don't? "

She giggles then reaches over to press soft kisses across his cheek before replying, " Hi my sweet lovely fiancé who is more childish than our one year old "

He chuckles, " That's more like it "

" Domi, why is Matheus covered in chocolate? " She asks.

He shrugs, " I want my boy to experience all that life has to offer so while I'm baking a cake for you, I decided that he should be my personal taster "

" Domi, he's one " She giggles, watching as their baby babbled softly.

" So? " He shrugs nonchalantly, " I want him to enjoy life baba, come on "

The dejection was evident though his tone, Dominik had lived quite a daunting childhood thanks to the grueling hours of training, she gives him a soft smile then says, " I understand but be careful ok " she murmurs.

He tilts his head to peck her lips and smiles, " I promise I will "

She nods then replies, " I'm going to change then join you two before you do something worse than this " she giggles.

He gives her a cheeky slap on her ass causing her to blush, " Dominik, not in front of your son " she whisper shouts.

He chuckles as she walked out of the kitchen - then turns to Matheus, " Fiú, when you find a girl that you love deeply, always make sure to pay attention to what she needs, your Anya is one a kind Fiú, and I've been lucky enough to get her to notice me " he smiles, recalling the nerve wrecking period of time he had underwent courting her in secrecy. " If you're as lucky as your Apa, you'll find a girl as lovely as your Anya "

Matheus babbles and giggles as he says, 'Apa' repeatedly causing him to smile and say, " That's right "

_

Four years had passed in the blink of an eye, Matheus was five; had displayed incredible skills in football thanks to school practice, and while Dominik was afraid of history repeating itself, she had silenced his fears and assured him that as long as he shows his support, it will all go well - He tried to calm himself, reminding himself that he wasn't his father, that even if Matheus ventures into football, he won't subject him to the rigorous routine he had experienced growing up.

One evening, on their way home - Dominik had noticed that Matheus was quiet, far too quiet than what he usually was spurring him to ask, " Fiú, is something wrong? "

" I'm fine Apa! " Matheus responds, looking out the window.

A sense of dread washes over him, images flash right in front of his eyes of how he used to behave if something disturbed him growing up, " Are you sure Fiú? " he asks with a soft tone.

Matheus remained silent for what seemed like a lifetime, before he asked. " Apa, how do you know you're in love? "

Relief washes over him upon hearing the question, coupled with a sense of nostalgia as he too had been in the exact same position - he remained silent, contemplating on how to respond before he replied with a soft tone, " Well ... when life becomes brighter, when you start to enjoy seeing colors everywhere, when -um- ... when you feel like you cannot live a day without the person that you love "

Matheus hums before he said, " Is that how you feel whenever you see Anya? "

He grins, then hums softly. " I was your age when your Anya stole my heart, and it hasn't been the same sense - Now tell me, who stole your heart? "

Matheus chews on the inside of his cheek before he said, " There's this girl on the girl's team, whenever the coaches gather the boys and girl's team ... I, I see her and ... " he pauses, blushing.

" Go on Fiú, what's her name? " He asks with a gentle tone.

" Beatrice, but the girls call her Trixie, she's a midfielder Apa, like me and she's so good, like ... every time I see her, I can't look away " Matheus sighs softly, a soft smile across his face.

Dominik had to hold back a soft chuckle, as much like him in that age, Matheus was definitely enamored by the girl in question, " Did you tell her? " he asks him.

Matheus shakes his head, " I'm scared Apa, what if she says she doesn't like me? "

He hums softly then replies, " You'll never know unless you try, but I understand Fiú, I mean it took me a while before I told Anya that I loved her "

" So should I wait? " Matheus wonders.

" No, I have a better idea " He grins.

The father-son duo finally reach their home; as they walked in, they were met by the smiling face of his wife who says, " He looks overly excited! " she gestures to Matheus, Dominik chuckles as he placed his shoes away, he then walks up to her to greet her with a soft and passionate kiss before he said, " Our son is in love! "

She giggles, " in love? " she echoed.

Dominik smiles as he recounts what Matheus had said, " Yeah, I picked him up from training and he said, he's crushing on a young midfielder from the girl's team "

" Aw, my baby is all grown up " She cooed, " what else did he say? "

He recounted every detail by saying, " The way he described her, I could have sworn I was looking at myself "

She smiles softly, " Your mother did say you were always beaming when you talked about me "

" It made sense baba, you're my soulmate " He murmurs pecking her lips before he said, " I'm gonna go freshen up then come and help you "

She nods then retreats to the kitchen, around twenty minutes later, Dominik reappears to help her set dinner up - the pair would converse over anything and everything while Matheus was in his room, " So? " she began with a soft tone, " I asked my mother if she would come and watch over Matheus, and since football is almost over, I figured ... we can go on a mini vacation "

His brows shot up, as he heard her suggestion. " Where to? "

" Well Juliana and Kostas recommended so many beautiful places in Greece, it'll be nice to explore what it has to offer for a few weeks before we head back to real life " She states with a soft and hopeful tone.

He stands behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder as he said. " I would love that, a few weeks of just of the two of us, and no interruptions when I get you under the sheets "

Her face grows warm, " You haven't grown up at all huh? "

" When it comes to you, I'll forever be the horny love struck teen who's enamored by everything you do " He murmurs, pecking her cheek before retreating back to where he stood earlier.

Once dinner was set, Dominik grabbed the dishes to set the dinner table up - Suddenly he hears her say, " Matheus, a vacsora kész ", the tone reminded him of the times in which his mother would call him while he would spend more time in his room to avoid eating the specific meals set up for him, when Matheus did not respond, she repeats the same phrase with clear annoyance, " Matheus, a vacsora kész!!! "

He saunters into the kitchen, " Baba, maybe you just need to be patient! " he says softly, in an attempt to calm his raging heartbeat.

" Domi, he needs to learn how to respond! " She sighs, " What is he doing anyway? "

" And he will ... you just " He sighs softly, " You just need to be more patient, please "

It was then that she noticed the sudden shift in his body language causing her to frown, " I'm sorry Domi, I let my annoyance get the best of me " she murmurs, squeezing his hand.

" It's fine " He assures her with a smile, " I just ... I don't want him to feel forced like I was, and besides ... " he chuckles softly, " He's probably lost in love with Trixie, I'll go check up on him "

She nods with a sweet smile, " Ok, but you two better come quickly before the food gets cold "

Dominik makes his way towards Matheus's room to find the five year old deeply engrossed in scribbling something, " Matheus, your Anya has been calling your name and you didn't answer " he states.

Matheus looks up, " I'm sorry, I was just ... trying to write a letter for Trixie "

He smiles, " I told you, I'll help out right, now let this be and we'll get it done tomorrow after school, go on ... apologize to Anya for not responding to her right away "

Matheus nods, running out of his bedroom to head to the kitchen where his mother was standing over the stove, he walks up to her and embraced her leg, " I'm sorry for not responding Anya " he murmurs.

She looks down and smiles before kneeling down to be at eye level with him, " It's ok baby, just make sure you're alert ok "

Matheus nods and embraces her, " Annyira szeretlek anya "

She smiles softly, " Én is szeretlek édes fiam "

The family of three finally sit at the dining table, Dominik observing his wife and son chatting with one another with a smile on his face - suddenly recalling how life had treated him then, leading up to this very moment, where he's surrounded by the unconditional love of both his wife and son, leading him to finally understand what his mother was saying all along.

If you're patient, you'll be blessed.

[clovermarigold]

Bi-han sunshine reader Head cannons

Requested by @livingdeadgirly

Bi han is by no means the type of man you would describe as empathetic. In fact, he sees it as a form of weakness; to allow the weakness of others to cloud your own judgment. That was however until a certain little weasel clawed and wiggled its way into his life.

Bi han has a hard time with physical touch despite it being his preferred love language. So, he secretly really appreciates it when you choose to initiate contact.

PDA is an absolute no. Sorry, all my touch starved mutuals, unless you are in the privacy of your own home, you are being treated like it's 2020 covid.

-Bi han why are you standing all the way over there?

-Do not speak to me in public Harlot!

I promise he spent the next two days making it up to you.

As cruel as he can be in public towards you, he doesn't mean any of it. Truthfully, though he would never admit it, you were changing him.

Since being with you, he was less angry, he scowled less. Don't ever point this out to him though. He will give you the cold shoulder for the rest of the week. (heh)

Based on his character model, it's essentially cannon that he does not take care of himself, at least with all the acne scars he has. You've made it a point to force him to sit down and let you wash and moisturize his face.

This is by far his favorite thing about you. The way you hold his face softer than anyone has ever held him before. As if he were porcelain, not because you thought him to be weak, but because he was precious.

Bi han is very much the jealous type and isn't a big fan of you being around most of the Lin Kuei. He won't lock you in the house or anything, but he does have a habit of sulking on days you go out.

Your energy and enthusiasm are absolutely infectious among the Lin Kuei. A refreshing change of pace in the cold and disciplined Artik (home of the Lin Kuei).

You will often speak with members of the Lin Kuei in the early mornings, bringing them a light air and break from their responsibilities. That is, until Bi han catches sight of them uncomfortably close to his chosen partner and makes them carry out grunt work for the remainder of the day.

Your first time meeting his brothers was a particularly memorable event for everyone but you.

It had been unlike Bi han to call his brothers for a dinner, much less so one that appeared so formal, but Kuai Liang and Tomas would attend none the less.

Little did they know, they were only called after months of you pestering Bi han to introduce you to them. And after a particularly good night.... he caved.

To say they were shocked would be an understatement. Bi han finding a partner would have been a miracle in itself, but YOU. You who gushed over Bi han the entire night, you who refused to sit until you had bear hugged each of the brothers and nearly dragged them down into their seats. You who was completely oblivious to the fact that Bi han didn't speak a word that entire night, too distracted with sharing your love for their brother for the whole world to see.

Bi han did almost speak once in that dinner, when Kuai Liang made a passing comment on how you were more similar to Tomas than anyone.... Bi han did not like that. He had half a mind to lay into his brother then and there, verbally and physically. But your sinister little giggle and cheerful mood would be so easily trampled if he had.

Instead, he chose to stand abruptly dragging you home and leave his brothers to foot the bill. Safe to say you got it that night. But who were you kidding you loved it. You loved him, flaws and all <3

[booksandabeer]

A Man Takes His Sadness Down to the River (The Consolation of Philosophy) (E | 150 K)

To celebrate the completion of the fourth & final part Lost Vocabularies that Might Express (The Memory of These Broken Impressions) in this wonderful series by dorian_burberrycanary.

Author's summary: The worst of times, like the best, are always passing away. How’s that for some consolation on the road? A post-The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Stucky fix-it as part of the all-American road trip, detours included.

Follow Steve and Bucky on their Great American Road Trip as they drive and eat their way across the country and beyond. From the beaches of the Jersey Shore to the graveyards of Savannah, from the cragged horizons of Mexico to deserts with (small) volcanoes, from college campuses to earthship settlements, from the mountains of Colorado to the monumental emptiness of the Great Plains and on and on and on…there is always more road ahead.

A Man Takes... is a miracle of a series that works with what should be an unworkable premise: Steve really did leave to go live in the past. He returned a few months later, yes, but he still made that choice. Knowingly. So, how can any author, any story, rectify such a colossal mistake, and how can it be reconciled with a believable, satisfying romance that short-changes neither Steve nor Bucky? Like this. With patience, and care, and often painful honesty. Just like Steve, this story slowly digs itself out from under the burden of that terrible decision.

I know that some people are very reluctant or even outright refuse to read EG-compliant fics and I understand why this might be a tough sell for them. Believe me, I do. But this series manages to neither let Steve off the hook for his choices nor does it punish him excessively. Instead, Steve and the readers are repeatedly confronted with the fact that there are no magical solutions here, no take-backs—it’s a fix-it, yes, and very much a Stucky fic through and through, but it’s not a fix-it fantasy where in the end everything turns out to have been an unfortunate misunderstanding after all. What's done is done and the only way out is through. But. even if you usually prefer to ignore anything that happened post-[insert preferred point of canon divergence here], please, please try to give this absolute marvel of a series a chance. It is genuinely one of the most rewarding and satisfying works I've ever read in this fandom. It's catharsis in slow motion.

You will find descriptive writing here that is so incredibly beautiful that it will bring you to your knees in awe. This series transcends fanfiction in many ways, as it stands out for the remarkable quality of the prose and the nuance, subtlety, and precision with which it explores both the emotional landscapes of its protagonists and a fictionalized, yet very recognizable post-Snap America. At the same time, it could only ever work as fanfiction because it stays so close to the characters and is so deeply rooted in and filtered through Steve’s inner life and perspective. Just like the real Steve Rogers, this story is smart and curious, and deeply empathetic towards its characters and the world they inhabit.

Every detail is imbued with meaning. The food Steve and Bucky eat. The clothes they wear. The art they look at. The books they read. The music they listen to. The places they stay at. The landscapes they drive through and the objects they carry with them or acquire along the way. One doesn't need to understand or even notice all of the references, allusions, or ambiguities to enjoy the series, but it makes for such a rewarding reading experience to really dig deep into the many, many layers the author has so expertly assembled into this phenomenally rich text. More often than not in this fic, the curtains aren’t just blue. Or rather, Bucky’s sweatpants aren’t just gray.

At some point amidst this sprawling, reflective journey, a bittersweet realization sets in: There simply is no compensation for the time and life lost, for the pain suffered. No money, no medals or statues, no hagiographies, and certainly no delusional pipe dreams forcibly made real, will ever make up for all that loss. You can't outrun your past, but that doesn't mean you should bury yourself in it. And maybe, solace can be found in mutual understanding, not just between these two men, but in interactions, in shared community—however fleeting—with ordinary people doing ordinary things in their ordinary lives. And in the beauty of the mundane and the relief that there still is a world in which such beauty can exist, even though it is so often a cruel and unjust place. Steve Rogers finally allows himself to feel his feelings: his grief and his shame, but also his joy and—even though he’s already so very tired—his hunger for more. More time, more life, more Bucky.

This series is a wonderful tribute to Steven Grant Rogers—an honest and affectionate portrayal of this compelling and lovable, if at times difficult, character. It is also a gorgeous, intricate love letter to the miracle of a man that is James Buchanan Barnes. As you can probably tell by now, I love it a totally not normal amount.

A most heartfelt thank you to @burberrycanary for taking us all along on Steve and Bucky's long journey across America and (back) to each other. Thank you for letting us sit in the back seat and watch as they learn to love and live with each other in old and new ways, finally find some measure of well-deserved rest and peace, and, together, face their greatest challenge, their longest fight, the eternal question:

How to live with all this survival?

[jerzwriter]

This is a fictional answer to @tobias-carrick-appreciation-week's What Would Tobias Do? question for day 6: What would Tobias do if he was dating someone he was (surprisingly) really into, then he found out they were a porn actress. This has me changing his dating history, because this is officially part of my HC. lol I hope you enjoy this flashback to The Hopkins Years fic!

Book: Open Heart (Pre-Series / Johns Hopkins Years) Pairing: Tobias Carrick x F!OC Other: Ethan Ramsey Rating: Teen - maybe Mature to be safe. Nothing explicitly. Words: 3,027 (sorry...) Summary: Tobias Carrick wasn't known for taking relationships seriously - at this stage of his life - he was there for a good time, not for a long time. Then he meets Stacy, and things change. He's finally accepted that's OK when a secret from her past threatens to blow it apart. How will Tobias react to the news, and what impact does it have on the couple?

A/N: I have additional A/Ns at the end. But participating in @julychallenge Pink: Romance, Vulnerable Black: Attraction, The Unkonwn

Ethan stood over the stove wearing no more than his old, blue terry bathrobe. His disheveled hair, stubbly beard, and raspy voice all indicators of how raucous last night had been. The fact that he was standing and cooking could be considered a medical miracle in and of itself, or so it seemed, until Tobias emerged from his bedroom.

They had similar nights, but Tobias looked no worse for the wear. Already fully dressed, with a bright smile on his lips,  he waved to his friend and roommate as he continued a conversation on his phone.

“I’m making eggs. Do you want any?” Ethan hollered, but the question went ignored.

“It was great,” Tobias grinned. “I’m so glad you thought so, too.”

Ethan rolled his eyes as he tended to the eggs; this uncharacteristic behavior had become more common in recent weeks.

“Do you have plans today? No? Well, I was thinking of taking a drive to Kent Island. I’d love the company if you’d like to come along? All right... great! I’ll pick you up in an hour?”

Tobias sat at the kitchen counter, where breakfast awaited him. He didn’t say a word until the weight of Ethan’s stare became too much to ignore.  

“What?” he asked, almost annoyed.

“I took the liberty of making eggs for you,” Ethan scowled.

“So I see,” Tobias smiled. “Thank you.”  

“I asked you wanted any... of course, you didn’t answer.”

“You asked?” Tobias asked with confusion.

Normally, Ethan would have been annoyed, launching into a tirade about how Tobias doesn’t appreciate his contributions, but today, all he did was smile. It was a novel treat to see his roommate behaving this way.

“It’s Stacy... isn’t it?”

“What?” Tobias gasped, not willing to confess the obvious. “No! I’m just in a good mood, that’s all.”

“Yeah! Because of Stacy! No need to hide it; I can’t blame you at all. She is stunning.”

Tobias looked as bashful as he was proud; Ethan only wished he could be recording this.

“She is, isn’t she?” He replied with a grin.

“She’s also intelligent, funny, a great conversationalist....”

Tobias leaned back in his chair. His smug persona on full display.

“Most of my women are, Ethan...”

“Please,” Ethan scoffed. “Beautiful? Yes, but the rest... very debatable.”

Tobias chuckeled as he finished his eggs, but he didn’t argue Ethan’s point.

“It’s OK... you know... to like her more than for a night.”

“I know,” his friend replied matter-of-factly. “I’ve been seeing her a while now... and I’m taking her out again today. But thanks for the permission, buddy.”

Ethan shook his head. “What I meant is you can like her seriously. It’s all right to think long-term; it’s OK to consider commitment. You’re not getting any younger, and it’s not every day you find someone as special as Stacy.”

“Yes, Mom.” Tobias dismissed.

Tobias knew his friend was right; in fact, it’s all he had thought about since he met Stacy two months before. It scared the shit out of him, but if he was being honest, the prospect was a little less frightening each day.

“Well, I never said we’re getting serious,” he argued. “I...I’m just... I like her, you know?”

“I know,” Ethan grinned. “And you could do worse. Have fun at the beach,” He said with a smirk. “Should I expect you home late?”

Tobias smiled like the Cheshire cat. “Maybe you shouldn’t expect me home at all.”

~~~~

Stacy heard Tobias’s car from nearly a block away. The beautiful weather meant his car’s roof was down, and Rhianna blaring from the speakers was the only calling card Stacy needed. She was already walking down her steps when he arrived, and God, she was a sight to see.

Tobias did his best to maintain his composure, but that was a tall task as she sauntered his way. Her long auburn hair glistened in the sunlight, and her white sundress hugged every curve. And that smile—innocent as an angel’s yet irresistibly inviting—left him utterly speechless, and Stacy didn’t miss a thing.

She hopped into the passenger seat with a giggle; not wasting a moment, she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss, and her effect on the man was instant.

“Mmmm,” he growled. “You need to stop that, or we’ll never make it to the beach.”

“Oh, we’re going to the beach,” she insisted. “Of course... who knows what we’ll do on the beach.”

Tobias held her hand most of the drive; he was both astonished and ashamed of how he felt. How was he falling so hard that even Ethan saw it? At any other time, he would have cut off all contact at once to stop whatever crazy feeling was happening, but with Stacy, it was impossible.      

It wasn’t just her beauty or the way the sound of her voice drove him insane. It was her quick-witted sense of humor that often left him and everyone else in stitches. It was her tender heart, like the time Tobias had to cancel a reservation he called in a favor to make just so they could tend to a wounded bird she spotted on their way. It was her brilliant mind, the head of her class in biotechnology; she could talk him under the table. He encouraged her to go to medical school, but she had already planned another path in painstaking detail. He didn’t want to admit it, but she could well be the whole package... and he was nowhere near ready for that... but he was already enchanted, and there seemed to be no way to break free of Stacy’s spell.

“Have you ever been to Kent Island?”  he asked.

“No. But then, I’ve only been to the beach once since moving to Baltimore.”

“What?” Tobias was stunned. “You’ve been here two years and been to the beach once?”

Stacy shrugged. “We can’t all be you, dear!” she teased. “Some of us have to put in a lot of effort to stay at the top of our class... not to mention some of us have to work to pay for Hopkins.” 

“Hey, I didn’t mean any offense,” he said with a kiss on her hand. “But I’m hoping you’ll let me spoil you a little.”

“Oh, what do you have in mind?” she cooed.

“Do you mean today or more long-term,” he smiled.

With his eyes on the road, he hadn’t seen Stacy’s face. If the words surprised him, they surprised her even more.

“Uh, let’s stick to today... for now...”

“All right, how does a walk on the beach and dinner at a great little seafood place, I know of, sound? We could spend some time on the boardwalk and maybe give me a chance to win you a prize.”

Reaching over the console, she placed a kiss on his cheek. “And here I thought you were my prize.”

“You’re good for a man’s ego,” he beamed as she placed her head on his shoulder for the remainder of the ride.

The day went as planned... better than planned... neither could remember the last time they had such fun so effortlessly, and they didn’t want it to end. Tobias rented a room at a local bed and breakfast where little sleep was to be had. After making love the night through, they woke up and showered together, only to decide to use that comfortable be once more before getting in the car to return to Baltimore.

Tobias was beginning to push his fear aside, and the stupid grin on his face made that perfectly clear. He was so wrapped up in the pastel summer haze he found himself buried in that he didn’t notice how quiet Stacy had become. She left his car rather quickly when he dropped her off, but he chalked it up to being exhausted... after all, they hadn’t had much sleep.

When he walked into the apartment, Ethan looked up from his studies and smirked at his roommate.

“So, your day at the beach turned into a weekend at the beach, I see.”

“Did you miss me, boo?” Tobias teased.

“Hell no! I loved having the place to myself. It’s so much more spacious when your big head isn’t here.”

“Hahaha,” Tobias ?. “Like your head doesn’t take up a ton of space.”

“Oh, it does!” Ethan concurred. “That’s why it’s more comfortable when only one of us is home. So... are you ready to admit that you really like this one?”

“I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, bro... but I do... I haven't told anyone this, but Mandy called to hang out the other night, and you know what hang out with Mandy's mean... and I passed. I could have gone, but I passed. Who the hell am I?”

“It’s not the worst thing in the world,” Ethan chuckled.

“That’s the scary thing,” Tobias said with a yawn. “I’m starting to see that. I even mentioned it to Stacy this morning.”

“You what?”

“I told her I was falling for her and asked if she felt the same... I can actually see myself wanting... more with her.”

“Wow,” Ethan grinned. “If I knew this was going to happen, I would have added the earthquake rider to our rental insurance policy. Sure, the idea of an earthquake in Baltimore is far-fetched, but right now, not so much.”  

“Shut up,”  Tobias chuckled, heading toward his room. As enlightening as the conversation was, he was desperate for some shut-eye. And luckily, he got a little in before his doorbell rang several hours later.

Ethan had headed out to work, so Tobias wiped the sleep from his eyes as he groggily answered the door. Though he was delighted to see he was disturbing his sleep.

“Stacy,” he beamed. “I didn’t expect to see you again today?”

She bit on her lip, then a hesitant smile formed on her lips. “I hope it’s OK that I dropped by unannounced. I tried calling you, but....”

Tobias took the phone out of his pocket. “Sorry, I turned the ringer off so I could take a nap. But you’re always welcome, come,” he said, opening the door. “Come on in. What brings you by?”

After assuring they were alone, Stacy took a seat on the couch, holding Tobias’s hands in hers. “I came by to talk about... what you said this morning... about wanting more... with me.”

“Oh,” he replied, noticing her apprehension. “Well, if that’s not what you want, it’s OK, I didn’t mean to frighten....”

“Tobias,” she smiled, holding a finger to his lips. “Let me finish. The thing is... I do... want more with you, too... but I’m not so sure you’ll want more with me.”

“But I’m the one who...”

She shot a look in his direction, and he was silent again. “There’s something you should know first.”

Retrieving her phone from her purse, she pulled up a video, then closed her eyes -  pressing pause – both on the video and her conversation.

“Hey... are you all right?” Tobias asked, placing an arm around her shoulders. “If you don’t want to....”

“No,” she sighed, it’s important. “I hope... I hope you don’t hate me.”

She handed him the phone and watched as his eyes grew three sizes. There on that little screen was Stacy – his Stacy – naked and having a great time – with someone that definitely wasn’t him. Peeling his eyes away, he pressed stop and turned to her.

“All right, hon, I’m not going to be mad at you and an ex having a sex video... that’s nothing I’ll judge... but why the need to show it to me.”

“He’s not an ex,” she said with a deep sigh. “He’s an actor... just like me.”

A wrinkle appeared on Tobias’s brow, showing his utter confusion, and Stacy swallowed hard before she continued.

“See, if I tell you my screen name, you can Google me... and you’ll find a whole lot more where that came from... I... I’m a porn actress.”

His eyes grew again, and his face was ashen. “You’re an... oh,” he fumbled for words.

“Look, it’s not that I’m ashamed,” she continued. “It was a choice I made... a choice that allowed me to attend college, a choice that made going to Hopkins for my masters a reality. A choice that helped get my family out of poverty...though I never really told them why. I told them I won the lottery and, well... I didn’t.”

“Stace,” Tobias started, “You really don’t owe me any explanation, I....”

“You’re right,” she interrupted. “I didn’t... until this morning. If you want us to be serious – you have a right to know. You don’t deserve to learn by some jackass telling you he saw me in Throbbin’ Hood.”

Tobias lowered his eyes with a little chuckle. “Now I saw Throbbin’ Hood, and you were not in that,” he joked, not sure what to say.

“So you’re a connoisseur, and you’ve never seen my work,” she half smiled. “I don’t know if I’m relieved or insulted.”

“I... I’m not sure what to say,” Tobias faltered. “I mean, I don’t judge you; as a connoisseur, I’d have to be a pretty big asshole to judge you...”

“Well,” she chuckled sadly. “You’d be surprised... most connoisseurs are quite judgemental.”

“Well, I’m not,” he said, taking her hand. “It’s just....”

“It’s just I’m not exactly what you had in mind when thinking about something serious.”

“No! I didn’t say that!” He insisted. “It’s just... this is a bit of a surprise, and I, can I have some time to process it?”

“Sure,” Stacy grinned, leaning over and placing a peck on his cheek. “Take some time and let me know what you decide, but Tobias?”

“Yes?”

“If you decide you don’t want to go further because of this part of my past, I’ll be sad, of course, but I’ll be OK. The person I’m meant to be with... they won’t hold it against me, and if you do... then you’re not my person. I just thought it was only fair to let you know before things go any further between us.”

After a hug, Stacy headed home, leaving Tobias in a daze on the couch. She had told him her porn name, and he was caught between temptation and horror at the thought of searching for it. In the end, horror prevailed, and he put his phone away. He was still in a state of astonishment when Ethan arrived home, immediately noticing the change in his friend’s demeanor.

Tobias wasn’t about to break Stacy’s trust, but if there was anyone he could trust to keep this between them, it was Ethan, and he needed a trusted friend’s opinion. Ethan did his best to conceal his own shock at the news.

“It’s OK, buddy,” he half-smiled. “I think my jaw was on the floor when she told me, too.”

“It’s just that I... I didn’t see that coming,” Ethan sighed. “Wow... of all things. So, does it change how you feel?”

Tobias sat back thoughtfully, then shook his head. “I meant what I said; I’d have to be a total dick if I watch porn, but judge someone for making it.”

“Agreed,” Ethan nodded. “And while I’ve never been in porn....”

“Of course you haven’t,” Tobias teased, attempting to add levity to the conversation. “Who the hell would want to see you?”

“And while I’ve never been in porn,” Ethan repeated loudly, ignoring his friend’s interruption. “I understand what it’s like to be poor and not sure if you’ll be able to live your dreams. I’m not advocating nor judging the choices she made... but my advice to you is not to pursue things further unless you can really say you don’t care. She doesn’t deserve to be with someone who will hold it against her, even if it’s subconsciously.”

“I agree,” Tobias replied. “And the truth is, I don’t think I would.”

“There is one other thing to consider,” Ethan injected. “Your family. I don’t know how the Carricks would take to their heir dating a former porn star. Ultimately, it’s not their choice, but...”

“Oh, I’ve given that thought,” Tobias interrupted. “But I’m not exactly proposing; we haven’t gotten nearly to that point. In a way, the idea of pissing them off is rather enticing, but I don’t think that would be fair to her.”

“No, it wouldn’t be. At the end of the day, it’s your choice, but for what it’s worth, this conversation stays between us, and I, for one, won’t think of her any differently than I did this morning, and I certainly wouldn’t judge you.”

Tobias smiled the first genuine smile he had since Stacy had left earlier in the day. “Thanks, buddy. I appreciate you listening.”

The following day, it was Stacy’s turn to open the door to an unexpected visitor. She wasn’t sure if her heart was about to be filled with joy or break when she saw Tobias at the door. Which might be why she couldn’t utter a word.

“May I come in?” he finally asked.

“Yes, of course!” She muttered as he stepped into her front hall.

Noting her puffy eyes, Tobias wanted to put an end to her worrying as quickly as possible; that’s when he pulled the small bunch of flowers he had picked up on his way over from behind his back, and Stacy broke into tears.

“Hey, hey!” He said, pulling her close. “Yeah, they’re supermarket flowers, I could do better next time, but it was kind of an impulse decision.”

“Next time?” she asked with a cracked voice. “So these aren’t a consolation gift when you tell me you never want to see me again.”

“No,” he replied with a kiss to her forehead. “They’re an apology for causing you what I’m sure was a very stressful night. And they come with an invitation – could I take you to dinner  tonight?”

“So, you still want to see where this goes?” she smiled.

“I’m willing if you are,” he grinned, and she replied by running into his arms and sealing the deal with a kiss.

“So, where are we going to eat?” he smiled. “Your pick!”

“In that case, order in a pizza and a six-pack,” she beamed. “Because tonight, I want you all to myself.”

A/N 2: OK I feel like some of my Tobias readers will be disappointed because this isn't humorous. But even back in Hopkins, I think he was having a good time, but I don't think he was a total asshole. He wouldn't have judged her, and he would be a hypocrite knowing his body count was definitely much higher than hers. College Tobias? Maybe he would have been a bit more of an ass, but he was mature enough by this point to handle it better.

While I won't write more for the pairing, my HC is that they dated exclusively for a little while, and they were happy during that time. But eventually, split up. Toward the end of med school the competition between Tobias & Ethan was turning toxic, and that colored his world and impacted his decisions (usually, poorly). Further, Ethan and Vincenza had broken up, and Tobias was being her shoulder to lean on. He realized how strong his feelings for Vincenza were, and didn't feel it would be right to string Stacy along. Basically, he wasn't remotely ready for anything like this. Stacy was disappointed, but it was an amicable parting.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.