#• • ┊ ' REMIND THEM WHO’S BOSS ! ⁽ MUSE ⁾

[apollos-boyfriend]

i feel like qroiers house by virtue of being qroiers house would be Full of spiders, like the little guys are just absolutely everywhere, and this isn't ever a problem for qjaiden because she's a scared of them, but because she's Birdie. Therefore parts of her mind wants to Eated them All The Time

“average qsmp member eats 3 spiders a year" factoid actualy just statistical error. average qsmp member eats 0 spiders per year. Spiders Jaiden, who lives in roier’s house & eats over 10,000 each day, is an outlier adn should not have been counted

[charliemwrites]

Part 4 of Mafia!Price

No Content Warnings

There are many things to appreciate about your boss, but one of them is his respect for routine. You’ve gotten him on a schedule and now he seems happily beholden to it; appreciates your promptness with tea and pastries and morning “briefings” each day.

He’ll happily sit back in his big leather chair and listen to you chatter out his itinerary for the day. Meetings, reports, phone calls. Trips to the dock, now, bless him.

You try not to stare between glances at your tablet. For a rich bastard, he is unfairly handsome. Good taste in just about everything, classy and luxurious without being ostentatious. Old money vibes, for sure, though you know better than to do more than idly wonder. Helps that he’s also remarkably gentlemanly with you. You’re not one to buy into old stereotypes or gender roles, even the ones that benefit you — but you’ll take a chivalrous boss over your old one any day.

Besides, it’s not like he’s spouting off about what women should and shouldn’t be doing. Or trying to use you as an example of an “acceptable” working woman. So, yeah, you’ll indulge in the door-holding and offered arms.

“Alright, best for last — your reservation for Muse is tomorrow. The restaurant is twenty minutes from your penthouse, so Simon will be downstairs by 7:30.”

You check that off your to-do list as you continue speaking.

“Do you have a suit picked out yet, or should I order something? Green is in season and it would go nicely with your eyes.”

He hums; you glance up. Leaning back, one arm lax on the arm of his chair, black watch gleaming. The other is propped to press his index finger against his lips. Like he’s telling you to keep a secret. The corners of his mouth are tilted up.

Your tablet dings and thankfully distracts you from staring.

Oh, for the love of— the only person more inconsiderate than Philip Graves is his damn assistant.

“Is that the color you’re wearing, then?”

Will need to call later today — as if!

“Hm?” You ask, not having caught it.

He arches his eyebrows; ah, you must have been making a face again.

“Are you wearing green tomorrow?” He repeats.

You blink. Are you what?

“Tomorrow, sir?”

He nods, once. “To Muse, luv.”

When you continue to stare with pleasant obliviousness, his eyebrows furrow a bit.

“You do know one of those seats is for you, yeah?”

You press your lips together for a moment. Well… shit. You take it back. You take it all back. John Price is a terrible, horrible, awful man who is so rude.

“I do now.”

Across the office, you make wide eye contact with Gaz. He grimaces in sympathy and ducks his head, though it’s clearly just to hide his traitorous laughter.

“Of course you’re coming along.”

“Sir,” you say, pleasant and sweet, “remember when I first started here? And I told you that I’m not a mind reader?”

“Of course,” he answers. “You threatened to spit in my tea in the same breath.”

“Only if you told me to fetch it for you,” you correct, before continuing, “I feel you may need a reminder: I cannot read your mind. How was I supposed to know you wanted me to go with you?”

“‘S your job, isnit?” He replies. You give him a dark look; he puts his hands up with a chuckle. “My apologies love, I thought you’d be in my pocket next to my handkerchief. Like always.”

You set your hand on your hip, proper cross now.

“It’s outside usual working hours, sir. How could I have possible expected to be invited to your fancy man party?”

“‘Fancy man party’?”

“Well, there’s nothing for it, I’ll have to leave early tomorrow.”

You’re already tapping madly at your tablet, looking up a salon willing to do your hair and makeup. God knows what kind of meltdown you’ll have if you can’t get your eyeliner symmetrical.

“Do whatever you need to do, luv,” Price soothes, standing. “I really am sorry for the short notice.”

You wave him off, then pat his arm as he gently guides you towards the door. Absently, you comply, more focused on getting appointments set and rearranging your own schedule for tomorrow.

“I’ll make it work,” you promise, “I always do.”

You let him bring you all the way to your desk, lower yourself into your ergonomic rolling chair.

“I’ll let you know what color I’m wearing by… one o’clock. Yes?”

“Sounds great, luv.”

You glance at the clock. “Also you have a call with the KorTac Group in ten.”

He chuckles and taps your chin. “Cheers, luv.”

—

Simon is the one to pick you up Friday evening. You both pause in the lobby of your apartment complex, staring.

“You look lovely,” he says at the same time you ask, aghast, “what happened to your face?”

He’s got a dark bruises discoloring the skin around one eye. Clearly some ice has already been applied because the swelling is down, but it must be fresh because he didn’t have it yesterday.

He snorts. “My job happened.”

You tut. “I’ve got something for that but we need to get moving. Mr. Price said he needs some help with his suit.”

You grab his arm without hesitation, habit from any of your escorts or drivers always offering it to you. Usually you accept out of politeness, but tonight you could use the extra stability in your heels. Simon doesn’t seem to mind even though this is the first time you’ve done this.

He walks you to the car, holds the door for you. Sleek and spotless, a black Jaguar — your choice for the evening. You hum in delight at the warm interior as Simon slides into the front seat.

“Oh, thank you for the compliment, by the way,” you add as he pulls into traffic. “You look quite smart as well.”

He grunts, but you notice a bit of color to his ears in the passing streetlights. You smile to yourself and busy yourself with your tablet. Double checking the reservation confirmation, answering messages from Farah and Gaz, updating Price on your ETA.

The car stops at a luxury high rise just at 7. You hop out before Simon can get the door and receive a sharp look. He holds up a reprimanding finger; blink in surprise at the sternness of it.

“You pull that shite again and I’ll handcuff you to the door handle, miss.” He warns. “Making me look bad.”

You huff, amused, and take his arm again. “Don’t threaten me, Mr. Riley, I’m meaner.”

But you squeeze his thick bicep good-naturedly as he leads you into Price’s building. Your boss lives in the penthouse at the very top; Simon has to swipe a card for access. He’s also got a key to let you both in the door, holds it so you can enter first.

It’s all sleek and modern; not at all what you would expect of your boss’s more classical style. His office has a sort of 20s Hollywood vibe (gangster, you teased once) but clearly some interior designer was paid far too much for something out of a drab minimalist catalogue.

You don’t linger long, heels clicking on the polished floors.

“Sir?” you call.

“In here, luv.”

You grimace at the flight of stairs between you and the loft, but force yourself up them. The whole floor is the mater bedroom and it’s the size of your entire apartment. Walk-in closet, sectioned off lounge with a desk. His bathroom door is open, mirror fogged. It smells like soap.

“Bedroom to your right,” he calls.

You tip-tap in and your mouth instantly dries. Price is standing in the middle of the room, half dressed. Nothing unprofessional, no. He’s wearing slacks, a belt. But he’s also in socks, a white undershirt. No watch or rings or anything yet.

It feels oddly more intimate than it should. Your face warms despite yourself.

“E-evening, sir.”

He turns and you’re utterly unprepared for just how handsome he really is. Freshly groomed, hair trimmed and gelled, eyes bright.

“Well, aren’t you just a dream,” he rasps. “You’re stunning.”

You clear your throat, know that all the makeup in the world can’t hide how brightly you’re flushing. It’s pure politeness, he’s not looking at you with anything more than friendly appreciation. Mind out of the gutter, now.

“All the flattery in the world won’t save you if we’re late,” you manage, shaking yourself back into work mode. “So let’s see what we’ve got.”

You pick his shirt, a pocket hanky, his shoes. Tell him to get into those while calling Simon up the stairs. He’s there so fast you blink in surprise, then gesture him over. Sit him on an ottoman and extract the little bottle of makeup you’ve started keeping on hand for situations like this.

“Bullshite you had that in your purse,” he scoffs.

“You remember two weeks ago, when Soap came in with that bruise on his jaw?”

They told you it was a “disagreement” at the docks. You didn’t ask further, figuring it was some sort of bar brawl in that part of town. Rowdy boys.

“Ever since, I keep a couple minis on hand for you all.”

They’re so small that you just keep them in a pocket of your purse with the rest of your makeup and the tampons. Good for emergencies like this.

“You sure you’re not a mind reader?” Simon grumbles as you gently dab it over his face.

“How would being a mind reader even help in this situation,” you scoff, patting at it with your middle finger.

Price steps out of the closet with arms out. He’s picked a waistcoat as well that you hum in approval at.

“Which cufflinks are you wearing?” you ask, turning back to Simon. He’s sitting remarkably still and stoic — reminds you of a big dog trying to maintain some dignity while getting fawned over.

“The silver and diamond.”

You make a noise of disagreement. “The gold and onyx would go better.”

A pause. You sneak a glance and are relieved to see him smirking. “I’ll wear those then. Any opinion on a watch?”

You hum again, carding through your mental catalogue. “Oh! The Bulova you wore during that meeting with Kate Laswell. You remember?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He disappears into his closet again while you lightly blend in the last touches of Simon’s coverup.

“There we are, good as new!” You declare. “Oh, and here.”

You set a couple of ibuprofen in his palm as he stands. “For the inflammation. Take with water.”

“Yes, mum,” he mumbles.

You wince. “Sorry! I’m being overbearing, aren’t I?”

He blinks, then puts a hand up. “No, no. That wasnt — I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

You don’t entirely believe him. Know that you can be a bit much when you’re on a time crunch. Especially for something like this — an important business meeting over fancy dinner. You feel like everyone’s appearance is riding on you; this is your job after all. One thing out of place and everything will fall apart and it’ll be your fault.

“Simon, go take those,” Price orders from behind.

You turn as he approaches, a similar apology all set on your tongue. Instead, he gives you a sheepish smile and offers the cufflinks.

“Bloody useless with these,” he explains. “So unless you want to spend fifteen minutes losing respect for me…”

You laugh, amused by the idea of your hyper-capable boss struggling with a bit of jewelry that cost as much as a week of work. You step in close to thread them through his sleeves, fingers nimble and sure.

“You’re not wearing cologne?” You ask, surprised.

Don’t even realize how that might sound until he arches an eyebrow at you.

“Thought you might have an opinion on that too,” he replies. “And you haven’t steered me wrong, yet.”

He shows you his modest, but impressive collection of colognes. You pluck up one, sniff, and make a face, eyes watering a bit. It’s mostly full; clearly one he doesn’t wear often and you’re grateful for it.

“That bad, eh?”

“Sir, why?” You lament, putting it back.

“Gift from an ex,” he explains.

You store that tidbit of information away for further examination. The idea of your boss in a romance. Right now you’ve got a task to focus on.

“Did they hate you that entire time?” You wonder.

He snorts. “Maybe.”

You shake your head and pick a different one. Blink in surprise and sniff again. Feel your stomach flip.

“That one?” He asks when he notices you hesitate.

“No,” you say a little too quickly, setting it down. This is a business meeting, you can’t afford to be distracted by how he’ll smell with that on his skin.

You settle on one that doesn’t make your head dizzy and your panties shamefully damp. Still feel a bit like you’re shooting yourself in the foot, though. He’s going to smell sinfully good regardless.

You leave Price to his finishing touches and have Simon help you down the stairs. Check through the notes you hurriedly collected when you realized you’d be attending this dinner.

Price comes down too soon for your poor, stupid heart. Looks like something out of a magazine or a novel or a movie or… just too good to be real, really.

“Pass inspection?” He asks.

“Barely,” you tease.

His eyes do that thing where they smile more than his mouth; how you know it’s genuine. You try not to fluster, zero in on his tie, a little crooked and loose.

“Goodness, sir,” you murmur, stepping in close. Yeah, you were right. That cologne is going to be a personal challenge all night. “How did you get along before me?”

“With bad cologne and shitty ties, apparently,” he chuckles.

You grin despite yourself, getting it secure and centered, before smoothing his vest over it. Give him a once over. Feel your stomach flip again.

“If I may say, sir, you look handsome,” you offer quietly.

“Should hope so,” he replies, voice dipping in a way that’s detrimental to the state of your panties. “You dressed me.”

You hum, reach for your usual dry, sharp humor. “I have great taste.”

Instead of scoffing, he hums in agreement. Something flickers through his eyes that you don’t dare allow yourself to daydream on.

Simon, bless him, clears his throat and draws your attention. You check the clock above the stove.

“Ah, we need to get going. I can’t walk fast in these heels.”

You slip your arm automatically into Price’s and try not to obsess over how well you two fit together.

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[deliciousangelfestival]

Bad Romance

Character: Lloyd Hansen x Ex-wife!Reader

Summary: On his dying breath, he made a choice: to seek refuge in the one place he still considered safe—his ex-wife's house.

Words Count: 4,089

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

As the raindrops pelted his face, each impact weighed down his eyelids, making them droop with exhaustion. With a muttered curse escaping his lips, he grumbled, "Fuck."

Tonight, he faced multiple betrayals, each cutting deeper than the last. His best friend, boss, team, agency—all had turned their backs on him, sacrificing him like a pawn in a game he no longer understood.

And for what? For all he had sacrificed and given, this was the thanks he received.

Dragging his feet through the sodden ground, he felt the weight of his exhaustion and pain bearing down on him like a leaden anchor. His body screamed for respite, for release from the torment that plagued him. But still, he pressed on, his gaze fixed on the faint light in the distance, a beacon of hope in the midst of the darkness.

His body language betrayed his struggle, his shoulders slumped with weariness, his movements labored and unsteady. Yet, he refused to yield to the darkness that threatened to consume him. He pushed forward with every ounce of determination, driven by a stubborn resilience that refused to be extinguished.

But as the rain continued to fall and the pain in his wound intensified, a chilling thought invaded his mind. "Is this how it ends? Alone, in the cold and the dark?" Finally, his strength gave out, his body surrendering to the inevitable embrace of unconsciousness.

🌅

As he slowly blinked open his eyes, he was greeted by a sudden burst of brightness, the sun's rays piercing through the whiteness that surrounded him. "Am I in heaven?" he murmured, his voice barely audible amidst the surreal scene.

His confusion deepened as he felt something wet against his hand. "What-" His words trailed off as he glanced down, his eyes widening in shock at the sight before him.

There, by his side, was a shepherd dog, its tail wagging eagerly as it gazed up at him with a warm, friendly smile. "I guess it's true, dogs go to heaven," he mused softly, his disbelief mingling with a flicker of amusement.

"Woof," the dog barked cheerfully, before bounding onto the bed beside him, its tongue lolling out as it showered him with affectionate licks. "Stop," he protested weakly, though a smile tugged at the corners of his lips despite himself.

Lloyd had never been particularly fond of dogs, but there was something about this canine companion that stirred a long-forgotten warmth within him. Memories of a puppy he once cared for flooded his mind, though it had been years since he had last thought of it.

Running his fingers through the dog's fur, he couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance it bore to that cherished pet from his past.

"You look like someone I knew," he murmured softly, a pang of nostalgia tugging at his heartstrings as he allowed himself to be comforted by the presence of his unexpected companion.

"He would be saddened if he understood what you just said. Don't you remember Choco?"

Lloyd's heart skipped a beat as her voice pierced the air, drawing his attention away from the dog and towards the source of the sound. Slowly, he turned around, and there she stood — the woman with whom he had once shared a lifetime.

His ex-wife.

You stood before him, holding a tray of food, your expression unreadable. Despite the years that had passed since he last laid eyes on you, you seemed unchanged. There was no trace of worry in your demeanor, only a cool detachment that sent a shiver down his spine.

Even now, after four long years since the finalization of their divorce, you remained a constant presence in his life, a reminder of all that he had lost. The years had not softened your gaze or dulled the edge of your resentment.

As he met your gaze, there was no warmth, no flicker of recognition in your eyes. Only a steely resolve that spoke volumes of the lingering animosity between them. At that moment, he realized that despite the passage of time, some wounds never truly healed.

Lloyd's voice broke the silence, filled with a hint of nostalgia and warmth. "It's really nice to see you, sunshine."

You responded with a dismissive "Hmph," setting down the tray of food and medicine beside him. As you observed him lying on the bed, a surge of conflicting emotions washed over you.

Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine having him back in your life, especially in such a vulnerable state. Four years ago, you had scrubbed every trace of him from your existence, convinced that you were better off without him.

But fate had a cruel way of intervening. Just last week, Choco's persistent barking had led you to investigate, eventually guiding you to the sight of your ex-husband sprawled in the mud, wounded and on the brink of death.

The sight had shocked you to the core, dredging up memories of the tumultuous past you had shared. His dangerous job, the reason you had chosen to walk away from him, now seemed to loom over you like a grim specter.

Seeing him alive, breathing, and smiling with that smug expression plastered across his face, you couldn't help but question yourself. Why did you save him? As you tended to his wounds, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions raged within you.

You couldn't help but let out a sarcastic remark, your tone laced with equal parts irritation and concern. "With who this time did you make trouble?"

Lloyd's reaction was immediate, his expression caught off guard by your directness. This was the woman he remembered, the one who could simultaneously infuriate and enthrall him. "A lot of people, pumpkin," he replied casually, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes at his response, unable to suppress a wry smile. "Always a troublemaker," you muttered under your breath, the familiarity of the exchange bringing a sense of deja vu.

"Yup. That's why you like me," Lloyd quipped back, a cocky grin spreading across his face as he attempted to lighten the mood.

You didn't dignify his remark with a response, instead choosing to focus on examining his wound. Gently raising his arm, you inspected the injury with practiced care, noting the signs of improvement with a sense of relief. "No more infection," you announced, your voice tinged with a hint of satisfaction.

As you continued your examination, Lloyd couldn't resist interjecting with a hint of pride in his voice. "Did you notice I've gained more muscles?"

You couldn't deny the subtle changes in his physique, resulting from his relentless pursuit of his dangerous profession. But you refused to acknowledge it aloud, knowing that it would only inflate his already sizable ego.

"How did you find out my place?" you questioned, a mix of curiosity and wariness in your voice.

Lloyd met your gaze squarely, his expression unapologetic. "I always check on you. Just in case," he replied casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

After the divorce, he had never truly let you out of his sight, a fact that both unsettled and infuriated you. It was as if he couldn't bear the thought of you moving on without him, even though your relationship had long since run its course.

But for Lloyd, the idea of you being with someone else was intolerable. He couldn't stomach the thought of you in another man's arms, couldn't bear the thought of someone else laying claim to what had once been his.

And so, he took matters into his own hands, using underhanded tactics to sabotage any potential suitors that crossed your path. From slashing tires to sabotaging work projects, he left no stone unturned in ensuring you remained single.

The mere thought of you with another man made him sick to his stomach, a bitter taste rising in his throat. But despite his best efforts to keep you all to himself, he knew deep down that he couldn't control your heart.

And yet, he couldn't help but cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, you would come back to him in the end.

As Lloyd found himself teetering on the brink of death, his world collapsing around him, he felt a desperate longing for safety and solace. Betrayed by his team, abandoned by his friends, and hunted by the very agency he once served, he was left with nowhere to turn.

With each labored step, he struggled to keep moving forward, to escape the clutches of death that threatened to consume him. But amidst the chaos and despair, a flicker of recognition sparked within his subconscious, guiding him towards a beacon of hope in the darkness.

And then, as if by some miracle, he remembered you. Your address, your home—the one place where he knew he could find refuge, if only for a fleeting moment.

Driven by a primal instinct for survival, his body moved of its own accord, drawing him inexorably towards your doorstep. With each passing moment, the distance between them narrowed, until finally, he stood before your door, battered and broken but alive.

At that moment, as he reached for salvation, he clung to the faint hope that you would offer him sanctuary from the storm that raged within and without. For in the depths of his despair, he knew that he could find the peace and redemption he so desperately sought in your arms.

You let out a sigh, the weight of Lloyd's words sinking in. "Does that mean they knew about me?" you asked, your voice tinged with a hint of concern.

Lloyd shook his head firmly, his gaze unwavering. "No. I made sure nobody knew about you," he reassured you, his tone laced with conviction.

"Good," you responded with a nod, a sense of relief washing over you at his words.

You clapped your hands softly, calling Choco who still lay his head on Lloyd's lap. The loyal dog obediently jumped from the bed to be beside you, his presence a comforting presence in the room.

Lloyd's gaze shifted to the dog, who had grown significantly since the last time he saw him. "He's bigger," he remarked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Staying out of town suits him," you replied, a faint smile playing at the corners of your lips as you remembered the countless arguments you and Lloyd had over the city life.

Lloyd nodded in understanding, a pang of guilt tugging at his conscience as he recalled the sacrifices you had made for him in the past.

You stood up, determination etched on your face. "I need to buy more medicine for you," you declared, your voice firm despite the underlying concern.

"Alright. And I'll be waiting for you," Lloyd replied, his tone filled with gratitude.

Before you left the room, you turned to him with a sense of urgency. "Your gun. It's inside the nightstand," you instructed, your words carrying a weight of responsibility.

Lloyd's eyes widened in surprise as he slowly maneuvered his body, wincing with each movement. With cautious hands, he opened the nightstand and discovered his gun, meticulously cleaned and reloaded, lying within.

In that moment, as he gazed at the weapon before him, he couldn't help but feel a surge of conflicting emotions. Despite the animosity that had defined their relationship, he couldn't deny the underlying care and concern that you still held for him.

And as you left the room, he couldn't help but wonder how someone could simultaneously hate and care for him so deeply. It was a paradox that he would never fully understand but one that he couldn't help but be grateful for in his darkest hour.

As Lloyd lay back on the bed and closed his eyes, a sense of profound gratitude washed over him. Despite the perilous path he had tread, he couldn't help but feel incredibly fortunate to be alive, to have been granted a second chance at life, and to have crossed paths with you once again.

In that fleeting moment of introspection, he couldn't help but wonder about the path not taken.

What if the two of you hadn't parted ways?

Would he have found solace and happiness in your embrace, surrounded by the warmth of your love and the companionship of Choco?

The thought lingered in his mind, a bittersweet reminder of his choices and the consequences that had ensued.

Perhaps things would have been different in another reality or in another lifetime. Perhaps he would have found the peace and contentment he desperately sought in your arms.

But as the painkiller coursed through his veins, enveloping him in a blanket of warmth and drowsiness. Exhausted, he succumbed to the pull of sleep once more.

🗡️

Lloyd stirred from his slumber, awakened not by pain but by the gnawing ache of hunger that clawed at his stomach. Slowly, he sat up, testing the limits of his body and finding that the pain had subsided to a dull ache.

With cautious movements, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing slightly as he eased himself into a sitting position. Gradually, he rose to his feet, testing his weight on unsteady legs until he found his balance.

As he ventured out of the room, his gaze wandered around the house, taking in the familiar furnishings and décor that adorned the space. It felt strangely comforting, like stepping into a memory from his past.

His eyes drifted to the photographs that adorned the walls, capturing moments of joy and laughter frozen in time. Each image seemed to tell a story, a testament to the life you had built for yourself after leaving him behind.

With a heavy sigh, he questioned the purpose of his existence and the futility of clinging to a past that no longer held any promise. What was the benefit of wallowing in self-pity, of longing for a life that could never be reclaimed?

As Lloyd made his way to the kitchen, he was greeted by a home-cooked meal waiting for him, prepared with care and accompanied by a note instructing him to simply microwave it.

When was the last time someone had gone to such lengths to provide him with a warm, comforting meal?

The question lingered in his mind as he heated the food and began to eat, savoring each bite as if it were a taste of long-forgotten bliss.

After finishing the last bite of food, Lloyd washed it down with a sip of water, his expression shifting from relaxed to serious as he surveyed the now-empty plates before him.

"At least you let me eat first," he murmured under his breath, a hint of resignation in his voice.

'Click.'

The sound of the gun echoed throughout the house, piercing the stillness of the moment. In the reflection of the fridge, Lloyd caught sight of Carmichael and Susan, their guns trained on him with steely determination.

With a wry smirk, Lloyd raised his hands in surrender, his gaze steady as he met their accusing stares.

"Really? You still have the confidence?" Susan's voice dripped with disdain, her finger twitching on the trigger.

Carmichael's voice was cold and calculating as he spoke, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Of all places, you choose to hide here?"

Lloyd's casual shrug belied the tension that hung in the air as Susan's voice cut through the silence once more. "You need to come with us," she demanded, her tone clipped and authoritative.

Lloyd's response was equally defiant. "What if I don't want to?" he challenged, his gaze locking with Carmichael's as he awaited their next move.

Carmichael's response was swift and to the point. "You have no backup," he stated matter-of-factly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Lloyd's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the revelation. "Really?" he quipped, a hint of skepticism.

Unable to contain her frustration any longer, Susan lashed out at Lloyd, her voice dripping with venom. "I'm going to laugh when you rot in jail—"

But before she could finish her sentence, she was interrupted by a sudden gust of wind that sliced through her left ear, followed by a searing pain that engulfed her cheeks and ears.

"Fuck," she cursed, her hand instinctively flying to her injured ear as she recoiled from the unexpected assault.

As Susan dropped to the ground, the suddenness of her descent caught everyone off guard. Carmichael's attention snapped to the shattered window, his instincts kicking in as he processed the situation instantly.

"A sniper," he concluded, his voice tense with urgency as he scanned the perimeter for any signs of danger.

Susan, still reeling from the shock of the attack, struggled to comprehend what had just transpired. "But how?" she gasped, her voice tinged with disbelief as she tried to make sense of the chaos around them.

Lloyd's smirk widened as he watched the realization dawn on Susan and Carmichael's faces. "Don't underestimate the owner of this house," he cautioned, his gaze flicking towards the framed photos on the wall.

Susan and Carmichael's eyes fell upon a woman adorned with a gold medal, the insignia of an Olympic shooting competition adorning the frame.

"Shit," they both muttered simultaneously, a sense of dread settling over them as they realized the gravity of their situation.

Carmichael turned to Lloyd, his disbelief palpable. "Her? You and her? Impossible," he exclaimed, his voice tinged with shock and skepticism.

But Lloyd's smirk remained, a silent testament to the unexpected ally that had come to his aid in his moment of need.

The contrast between you and Lloyd couldn't have been more stark, yet fate had a curious way of bringing opposites together. While you had earned your place at Harvard through your exceptional skill in shooting, Lloyd's prowess on the football field had secured his admission.

In the law class, the tension between you two was palpable, your conflicting personalities clashing like water and fire. Your debates were heated, your arguments fierce, yet beneath the surface, there lingered a begrudging respect for each other's abilities.

Despite the animosity that simmered between you, there was an unspoken understanding that if one of you needed help, the other would be there to lend a hand. It was a reluctant partnership born out of necessity, fueled by a mutual desire to succeed in a cutthroat environment.

As the years passed, the animosity softened into something resembling camaraderie, a grudging acknowledgment of the role you each played in the other's life.

In the end, despite your differences, you and Lloyd were bound together by a shared journey that neither of you could have predicted.

Lloyd raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, his words laced with a mix of astonishment and resignation. "We're divorced, but still she cares for me," he remarked, a hint of disbelief coloring his tone.

'Bang.'

Another bullet pierced the air, embedding itself in the sofa with a resounding thud.

"Shit. She's going to blame me for this," Lloyd muttered under his breath, his expression clouded with frustration.

Susan's regret swelled within her, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach as she realized the gravity of their oversight. "Just kill him," she spat out, her voice tinged with desperation.

But Carmichael's voice cut through the chaos, his words ringing with authority. "No, the order is to bring him in alive," he declared, his tone unwavering in its resolve.

Lloyd, caught in the crossfire of their conflicting agendas, couldn't help but interject with a hint of sarcasm. "Stop fighting over me. I prefer to stay here," he quipped, a wry smile playing at the corners of his lips despite the gravity of the situation.

Susan's hand trembled as she pointed the gun at Lloyd's forehead, her eyes blazing with a vengeful fury. "I've been waiting for this," she seethed, her voice laced with venom. "This time I'll blow your head off."

But before Susan could carry out her threat, she was overcome by a searing pain that radiated through her hand, causing her to cry out in agony.

'Bang.'

Another shot rang out, the bullet tearing through Susan's hand with brutal force, eliciting a guttural scream of pain from her lips.

As the smoke cleared, you appeared before them, armed and prepared, your presence commanding and formidable. Carmichael and Susan paled at the sight of you, realizing with dawning horror that they were outmatched and outgunned.

"You bring unnecessary problems, Lloyd," you stated coolly, your voice hinting at disappointment.

With guns and spare bullets adorning your body, you stood as a formidable barrier between them and your ex-husband, ready to protect him at any cost.

With a steely resolve, you stepped forward, your gaze unwavering as you assessed the situation before you. Despite the chaos and tension that hung in the air, you remained calm and composed, your mind calculating the best course of action to diffuse the volatile situation.

"Susan, Carmichael," you began, your voice firm but measured, "you have overstayed your welcome. It's time for you to leave."

Susan's hand throbbed with pain, her grip on the gun loosening as she recoiled from the intensity of the burn. Carmichael's expression was shock and disbelief, realizing their attempt to apprehend Lloyd had backfired spectacularly.

But you weren't interested in vengeance or retribution. Instead, you sought a peaceful resolution, one that would ensure the safety of everyone involved.

With a swift and decisive motion, you disarmed Susan and Carmichael, carefully removing their weapons and rendering them harmless. Despite their protests and threats, you remained steadfast, refusing to be swayed by their desperate pleas.

You held their gaze steadily, your voice unwavering as you addressed Susan and Carmichael. "I'm sure neither of you wants to die today. Just as I don't want Lloyd to die," you asserted, your tone firm but not without empathy.

Susan's eyes widened in realization, the gravity of the situation sinking in as she glanced between you and Lloyd. Carmichael's expression hardened, his jaw clenched in silent acknowledgment of the truth in your words.

Lloyd's smirk widened into a knowing smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he caught your subtle reference.

"Since he has to clean up the house first," you added with a playful wink, a hint of humor creeping into your tone.

Lloyd's smile broadened at your jest, a sense of relief washing over him as he realized you had everything under control.

"Leave," you commanded, your voice brooking no argument. "And don't ever come back."

Reluctantly, Susan and Charmichael complied, their defeat evident in their defeated expressions as they slunk away, their tails between their legs.

As Charmichael and Susan begrudgingly exited the premises, leaving behind a trail of tension in their wake. "You always manage to find trouble, don't you?" you remarked, a hint of exasperation in your tone.

Lloyd turned to you with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. He placed a comforting arm on your shoulder, seeking reassurance in the midst of uncertainty.

"No matter what, you still care for me, right?" he questioned, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

You met his gaze with a small, enigmatic smile playing at the corners of your lips. "In your dreams," you replied cryptically, words laced with affection and defiance.

With a swift motion, you brushed aside the sentimentality, your expression hardening as you turned away from him.

Lloyd watched you go, his arms crossed over his chest as he contemplated your retreating figure. Despite your dismissive words, he couldn't shake the feeling that beneath your tough exterior, there still lay a flicker of concern for him.

'Woof.'

The sound of Choco's bark brought Lloyd back to the present, the loyal dog appearing at his side with a comforting presence. Lloyd reached down to pet the dog's head, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Your mother is still a bad liar," he remarked with a chuckle.

[always-just-red]

I wanted a slightly suggestive fluff with the twins if that's alright👁️👄👁️

A scenario in which they're finally done with Sylus's tasks for the day and get to spend some time with MC

CRYINGGG anon I low-key did deviate from the brief but I had this idea and I just ended up running with it. I hope you enjoy, regardless! I went into this ambivalent towards Luke and Kieran but something just possessed me honestly. Also dragged Sylus into it because there's no way in hell I wasn't subjecting him to this dynamic!! 😇 (I made MC here separate from canon MC for plot reasons, but if you want a fic with the twins and canon MC, just let me know!)

Onychinus' Finest

Luke and Kieran x Reader

Summary: All in a day's work for Sylus's loyal and committed worker bees crows

Genre: fluff & shenanigans

Warnings/Additional tags: MDNI (not smut but it's a lil spicy and I'd rather play it safe tbh), f!reader, nonMC!reader, platonic Sylus x reader, humour, swearing, suggestion, kisses, the twins are just obsessed with your legs honestly and who could blame them

| Word count: 2.1k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Your call connects almost instantly.

“What?” Sylus hisses from the other end, and you get the impression he’s disappointed.

“Oof,” you groan, smiling, “what’s the matter, boss? Waiting on a call from a certain Deepspace Hunter?”

There’s silence in your ear, but not far from you, Kieran snickers. Your smile broadens. “You have three seconds,” Sylus seethes, with the precarity of a pot that could boil over at any moment, “to tell me what I want to hear.”

Three seconds is a bit of a push. You’re sat on a desk and Kieran is tapping away at the computer beside you, the light of the screen catching the sharp features of his mask; he looks like something from a horror story. You nudge his knee with your foot. He glances at you.

Wrap it up, you signal with a twirl of your forefinger.

His mask tilts downwards, almost imperceptibly, and you know he’s glaring at you from behind it. He flashes his middle finger back and you chuckle, watching him return to his work. “Files should be on their way shortly,” you explain to Sylus, because you know when to stop pushing your luck. “Ever’s upped the security on these damn computers. The device that guy sold you didn’t do shit.”

It’s also now pieces of a device, shattered against the floor from when Kieran had thrown it down and stepped on it in frustration. You’re not gonna mention that.

Sylus sighs impatiently, but there’s a hint of regret. “I knew there was something off about that deal. Do you think he tipped them off?”

You glance around the room and it’s littered with bodies. Not dead! Just… unconscious. At least, most of them, you think. “Yeah…” you muse. It was a lot more security than there should have been in a high-rise office in the middle of the night. “You might be onto something there, boss.”

Another sigh from Sylus. You watch Luke as he finishes looting— wait, no— checking the last of the security guards for anything helpful. He’s found a phone and he’s staring down at it, head tilted, reminding you of Mephisto. You briefly wonder what came first: the crow masks or the crow-like behaviour. Maybe you’ll ask Sylus one day.

Luke lifts the phone, holding it at arm’s length, and you realise he’s taking a selfie. He pivots until you and Kieran are in the background, and you lean into the frame, making a peace sign with your free hand. The moment is captured. Luke tosses the phone over his shoulder and it hits the floor with a crack.

“Are you all alright?” Sylus checks, and you know his eyes are burning with frustration, even though you can’t see them. He wears a mask too— most of the time— it’s just a little more figurative than yours or the twins’. You’re an expert at reading past them by now.

“Yeah,” you say, “we signed up for this, remember? You’ve got the best of the best, right here.” You glance between Luke and Kieran. “Well, the best of the best and her sidekicks.”

“Hey!” Kieran interjects. “You wanna have a go on this computer?”

“No,” you lilt back sweetly. What’s he gonna do— make you? Sure enough, he goes back to tapping away, his head sagging slightly, and you can tell he’s pouting.

Luke has wandered closer to the pair of you. “How much longer?” he whines, throwing himself into a wheely chair, setting it on a slow collision course with Kieran’s. You stop it with your leg.

“Shut up,” Kieran snaps. “At least I’m doing something.”

“I can do something,” Luke retorts. He captures your ankle, pulling it away from the leg of his chair, and rests a hand on your shin.

“Something isn’t in the mood right now.” You lift your foot from his grasp, inching it up his lower abdomen, and he groans as you plant it against his chest. “So unprofessional,” you tut.

You’d stifled your phone against your chest, but you can hear a deep voice leaking out of it. “Say that again, boss?” you request, bringing it back to your ear.

“How long is this going to take?” Sylus repeats.

“Not long. You know what they say, though…” You meet the eyes of Luke’s mask. Your tone drops: “All good things to those who wait.”

Luke’s chair squeaks, rolling back as you push him away with a soft kick.

“Fine,” Sylus murmurs, “Mephisto is with me. Stay on the line, and send the files through when you can. I’ll check them before you leave. If they knew we were coming, there’s a chance that—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get the picture,” you interrupt. You get Kieran’s attention again, then gesture between the computer and the phone. The beak of his mask dips as he nods.

Luke has used your lapse of focus to draw himself close to you again. He takes your ankle once more and guides it to rest in his lap, one hand tight— holding you in place— and the other deftly undoing the buckles on your boot. After a few clinks, he pulls it from your foot, the leather dragging down over your skin and leaving it cold. He throws the boot at his twin’s leg.

Kieran huffs as it tumbles to the floor. He doesn’t look away from the computer, but you know he wants to. Now that’s professional.

Decidedly committed to another priority, Luke draws shapes on your lower leg, his finger grazing over your shin and ankle. He’s staring down, fixated, and maybe they aren’t shapes— maybe they’re letters. Every stroke of his finger is deliberate. You could ask what he’s writing, but you really don’t care so long as it’s more than a word or two.

If it is, he doesn’t have the patience for it. His fingers walk higher, stopping only as they reach your knee. The fabric of your dress is draped over your leg and he pushes it aside, letting it slink closer to the floor. He looks up at you, head angled like a question.

“Any progress?” Sylus asks.

You’re holding your phone between your ear and your shoulder, both hands splayed on the desk beside you so you can lean slightly back. “Getting there,” you say, lips curving. You’re not looking at the computer.

You could swear you hear Luke laugh, but it’s ever so faint. He rests his whole hand on you, warming your lower leg with broader strokes, and whatever he wrote has been erased. Your breath catches as his touch moves above your knee, and it’s a tiny sound; no-one would notice.

Kieran’s mask turns towards you. “Oh, come on,” he sighs. “No fair.”

It’s an intimate art: seeing behind a mask. You have to notice everything.

“So hurry up,” Luke answers, his voice heavier than the last time he spoke. His chest rises and falls with every breath, just a little slower, a little deeper.

Kieran rolls his eyes—you guess, from the listless way his attention goes back to the screen— and you detect a huff. “Not fair,” he says to himself. He repeats it as he punches keys with his fingers: “Not fair. Not fair.”

Luke shakes his head gently: a fond exasperation rather than anything serious. He rolls his chair closer until he’s framed by your legs, then lifts your ankle to rest on his shoulder. His fingers curl, the pads of them brushing over the top of your foot idly, but it tickles, so you try to pull away. He grasps your ankle again. “Nuh-uh, kitten,” he teases.

It’s one of your favourite in-jokes; you laugh. Sylus can still hear you, and you’re glad he doesn’t know it’s at his expense. “Something funny?” he asks. Maybe he does know.

“Yeah,” you say. He could string you upside-down with his Evol and you’d still never tell him what.

Luke is chuckling to himself, and the sound changes as he lifts his mask just enough to free the lower half of his face. It’s not the first time, but it sobers you instantly. He turns to press his lips to your ankle, leans in— kisses further up. Leans in again— his mouth moves higher.

“Why so wriggly?” he speaks into your knee. “Stop.”

“You stop,” you counter, reaching forward to grab one of the horns peeking out of his hood. You use it to pull him away. Make him look at you. “Your little book on conquest doesn’t work on me.”

His lips widen into a smirk.  

“What book?” Sylus’s voice echoes.

You smirk as well. “Ask your pet hunter.”

You’re interrupted by a thud and your head spins. Kieran is standing up, slapping the top of the computer in frustration. “C’mon, work!” he urges. “So freakin’ slow.”

“Ah, ah, ah.” You shoo him away from the computer like you would a too-friendly pigeon from your lunch.

He flaps back in answer, his hand engaging yours in a brief slap-fight before he backs down. He slumps into his chair, defeated. “It’s almost there,” he groans, folding his arms. “Hey, Luke? Wanna swap?”

“No.”

“Do it,” you prompt.

Luke’s head rolls begrudgingly. “Yes ma’am. Jeez.” He plants a warm kiss on your leg again before clambering out from underneath it, pulling his mask back down over his face.

Another moment later and Kieran is in front of you instead. “You ok?” you wonder out loud.

“Bored.” He rests his head sideways on your thigh. His fingers find your bare lower leg and he runs them up, down, up, down, but it’s soft and purposeless. Soon, his head lifts— thin, red eyes staring up at you. The gaze doesn’t waver as he leans back in his chair and starts to unfasten your other boot.

“She’s gonna get cold,” Luke quips from the computer.

“Nah. She’s not.”

Your skin prickles as Kieran pulls away your boot, like a reflection of his brother, but tortuously more slow. He lets the cool air of the room set in. “Huh,” he corrects himself. “Maybe she is.”

You get the sense you’re being punished; both of them are petty. You’re pettier, though. “Sylus?” you speak into the phone.

“Mmm?”

“Did I ever tell you about the time that Kieran— ah!”

In a heartbeat Kieran has lifted his mask— not enough, but enough— and planted a kiss above your knee. His hand is around your leg, pushing it further from the other, and you can’t help but gasp again.

“What are you…” Sylus starts to ask, but then he changes his mind. “No. I don’t want to know.”

“You sure, boss?” you chuckle breathlessly. “It might surprise you.”

“Nothing would surprise me at this point, sweetie. Those files had better be on their way.”

You tear your gaze away from Kieran to glance over at Luke. He’s sat, propped on an elbow, his chin in his palm, and he’s definitely not looking at the computer. He sits up straight under your scrutiny. Turns to the screen. After a few more drums of the keyboard, he gives you a thumbs up.

“Got it,” Sylus chimes in, no doubt perusing the files already. “Nothing seems amiss. Nice work.”

“Thanks, boss,” you grin. “I’ve been working very, very hard.”

The phone is snatched from your hand. “She has, sir!” Kieran speaks into it. He stands, putting it on speaker before setting it down beside you. “I think she deserves the night off.”

There’s a crash as he shoves the computer from the desk, and Luke leans back, swinging his feet up onto the now empty space. He lifts his mask marginally to put two fingers to his lips, whistling in celebration. There’s a slow clap for good measure, too.

Kieran bows to him with a flourish. Then to you; you bow your head back.

“I’m hanging up,” Sylus states plainly.

“Ok,” you chirp, distracted. “I hope she calls you soon, boss!”  

“I don’t… I’m not…” your leader stutters. He reconsiders. “Thank you. Don’t think, however, that I’m—”

He doesn’t get to finish the warning, threat, or whatever else it was. Luke’s finger stands proudly on the phone, still connected to the ‘end call’ button. “What?” he dismisses as you and Kieran look at him. “I slipped! If boss asks, you saw me slip.”

“I did see it,” Kieran nods.

“I saw it too,” you add solemnly.  

There’s silence for a single moment, and there’s never silence with you three around. It lasts as long as it usually does.

You all burst into laughter.

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 1: the Light Dies

masterlist | next

🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: He’s the hero. Unfortunately for you, you’re not the villain.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 6.6k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, it’s sorta like a mafia au but they have superpowers lmao 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, minor character death, attempted murder, injury, loss of consciousness

a/n: I have to say thank you to @casuallyimagining and @bluewhale52 for betaing this chapter, although this might come as a surprise to them since that was maybe 3 years ago now?😅I'm really not sure how much my writing had changed since then, but you guys can be the judge of that as the future chapters unfold! In the meantime, enjoy! If you want more supercharged in your life, you can also search my supercharged tag to find some musings, rambling, gifsets and visuals etc that inspired me and kept me going while I lost my mind over this story!

Lastly, I present the supercharged playlist✨ I had a lot of fun making this – several songs align with plot events, while some of them are there for the title, the vibe, or even a single line! Feel free to guess which are which or come and chat with me about it👀

An ear-splitting roar was barely contained behind shuddering steel doors. Just down the corridor, your fingers still clicked away, unperturbed, at your keyboard.

Tapping your foot, you looked impatiently up at the clock as another thunderous bellow assaulted the air. If the full-length windows weren’t reinforced by your boss, Kuyang’s own design, they would be rattling in their frames.

Blowing to rid your face of a strand of hair, you returned to your work, not even sparing a glance towards the source of the racket. It was only around half an hour until you could leave work for the weekend.

Finishing your task, you turned to filing the correspondence on your desk as a few yells carried through the air, mingled with the monster’s uproar. Bills and business deals the lot of them, you tucked them away in their respective places to be dealt with next week – only to stop on the very last one. How many times had the postman ignored the very clear sign for no newspapers?

You supposed the city felt the need to remind everyone that there was some semblance of central control – not really of much concern in a workplace such as yours, mind. Glancing across the front page, you realised why. You didn’t have a tv at home, but you would have to live under a rock not to recognise your city’s most celebrated superhero. Bolt, the media’s beloved, had claimed another victory against some crazy start-up trying to build their own bombs downtown.

The hero’s blue-masked face grinned confidently up at you from the desk, while police led what looked to be two scruffy teenagers into the back of their van. But Bolt’s vivid presence eclipsed them in his suit that matched his bright eyes.

Not bothering to read further, you pushed the paper into the waste bin at the end of the table.

Just as you were tucking away the final bits of paper, your boss emerged, wiping his brow on a cloth that looked as dirty as his face. Smiling pleasantly despite his ruffled state, you rotated on your chair to face him.

“Frank’s all good and sleepy now,” he said, “if you could get him sent up to the chamber.”

“Sure,” you nodded, already getting up and straightening your jacket.

With nothing more than a weary nod of appreciation, he left for his private laboratory. This was through a series more armoured doors, to which only you and a small number of lab workers knew the codes.

He was a scientist. And you were sure he was unhinged, but the job paid well, so that was all you concerned yourself with.

In fact, you had got very lucky. You had been surprised when such a good position had become available and quickly given to someone as ill-qualified as you, with no references to give. But your lack of connections seemed of no concern, and here you were, finally making ends meet and no longer in fear of being turned out of your run-down apartment at the edge of town.

So you did your job as well as you could, worrying yourself over nothing except pleasing the odd man that was Kuyang.

Even so, it was still a little daunting each time you had to come face-to-face with one of his experiments.

Reaching the steel doors that had not long ago been seriously threatening their hinges, you took a breath. Holding your thumb over a scanner by the door, you plastered a confident smile on your face as you walked inside.

Affectionately dubbed ‘Frank’, a great lump of teeth and dark furry flesh several times bigger than you was sleeping in a pod at the centre of the room. Surrounding this were multitudes of screens showing graphs and readings you couldn’t hope to understand.

At the edges of the room, a smattering of other workers were slumped against the stainless steel lab walls, almost as rumpled as their boss had been.

A hulking guard, Taeyeon, stood near the entrance, and you quietly confirmed with her that Frank was under and secure. Nodding, you gestured to Taeyeon’s team, another man and woman with the same uniform and intimidating stature.

Together, you assembled in front of the tank that held Frank, Taeyeon typing authorisation into one of the computers. The others locked down the external doors, just in case.

Though it was a familiar sight by now, the opening of the pod always prompted you to run through your training. If you hadn’t read it in the documents you dealt with, you would not have known Frank was also known as Necrus X, a new prototype Kuyang was working on, although you could not imagine what for.

Kuyang had been sure to tell you how to knock out the creature if it ever came to it, though. There was a spot behind his ear, which was more of a ridge at the side of his enormous head.

With the pod open, a panel rose from the floor, taking Frank rotating upwards. You caught sight of the patch behind its ear, zeroing in on it. Just in case.

The smooth expanse of ceiling split then, a hole revealing itself as the roof shrunk away into the walls, leaving a clear path for Frank to rise to the next floor, where he was stored.

As effortlessly as the ceiling retreating, a smooth steel staircase emerged from the walls. You and Taeyeon climbed it, spiralling around the edges of the circular space until you drew level with Frank, now snoring on the upper floor. Here, the space was wide open like an empty art gallery, half the walls comprised of expansive windows, no lab equipment to be seen.

The floor closed up beneath you both and you walked around Frank, opening a secret panel in the wall. As before, you raised your thumb to a blank scanner – but got no further.

A deafening smash sent you crouching to the ground in panic. Livid blue painted all the walls in the space as shattered glass skidded across the floor.

You had thought that glass to be unbreakable. At least that was the intention. But when you turned, you were forced to believe your ears: the central panel of glass was completely blown in, all the others down the row cracked from the force.

At the same moment the glass had shattered, you could suddenly hear what before had been hidden behind soundproofing. Outside, there were shouts, screams, car horns and alarms blaring from every angle – and above all, sirens. Sirens wailing through the air like disembodied banshees, descending, apparently, on your building.

Shuffling along the floor, you peered past the sleeping mass that was Frank in front of you. Walking across the room was a man in a tight blue suit, the same hue crackling in the air around his hands.

Bolt.

Mind short-circuiting, you were frozen. What should you do?

What was Bolt doing here? Was there some kind of threat? The image of him should have brought you relief, even though you knew nothing of what the danger was, but you hesitated.

Only having the presence of mind to shrink back silently behind Frank, you looked between the beast and the control panel you had abandoned. But you had no more chance to move before a fearsome crack ripped through the air, another flash of blue, sending the hairs on your arms bolting upright.

Spinning back to face Frank, you were met with a thump. A body, falling onto the floor.

Though she was mostly obscured by Frank’s sleeping form, you stared in unbelieving horror at Taeyeon where she lay, unmoving. Breath accelerating in your throat, you moved at last, scooting yourself back and away. Closer to the wall.

First you lunged to sound the alarm, mounted inside the wall panel, which instantly lit the room up in throbbing red, blaring loud enough to drown out the sirens outside. Then your hand was fumbling across the scanner. You had to get Frank locked away.

The walls of the pod which safely contained Frank overnight began to descend, much too slowly for your liking. Whirling to face the room, your heart seized in your chest when the imposing figure of Bolt, now shaded purple by the red light, met your eyes.

A glance up at the descending walls. They were halfway to the ground by now, but you still had to enter the code to lock them down.

Bolt yelled for you to stop, barely audible over the dizzying noise of the warning siren.

As he strode towards you, you could only watch, pressing yourself desperately against the wall as if it could swallow you up.

Bright light cut through the imposing red as the heavy door at the opposite end of the room was thrown open. Bolt stopped, both of you turning to see Kuyang enter. His hair was still sticking up from earlier, a strange expression on his face that you hadn’t seen before.

Paying no mind to the maniacal smile that had no place on Kuyang’s face, you took the moment of distraction to scramble for the code lock.

Without a sound, the gap between the floor and Frank’s pod closed, and your fingers were already leaping to action, typing the numbers behind your back at lightning speed.

Kuyang was running now, a direct path towards Bolt. But Bolt turned back towards you.

You were nearly done, but his hand was raising towards you…

In a split second, your fingertip met the final key of the code. Almost instantly, it was ripped away as shocking blue light cut through the air. You felt the impact before you could even notice that it was aimed at you.

Hitting you square in the chest, white hot pain scorched through your every nerve as your body was flung backwards, powerless as a ragdoll sailing through the air. The collision with the cracked window behind was almost lost on you. More intense pain was writhing its way down each limb, making you cry out, uncaring about the rain-spattered wind that whipped about your face now.

But you could see shards of glass as they fell along with you, like daggers aimed at the ground.

Biting wind rushed in your ears, the sound crashing over you like waves. And just as a pan sizzles down off the heat, the ferocious attack of pain seemed to reduce just as fast as it had invaded you.

Your heartbeat was the loudest thing, booming over the insistent web of sirens and whistling air.

Breathing choppily, you screwed your eyes nearly closed, suddenly aware of the tempest around you as you fell. Above, the already darkening winter night was illuminated with flashes of that awful blue.

You were falling.

It hit you then, as if you hadn’t been falling all this time. But it was only now that your senses caught up with themselves. You worked on a very high floor of the skyscraper, but as you were tossed around in the air, you saw the ground rapidly approaching.

A horror gripped your chest like nothing you had ever felt before.

Below you, and rushing towards you at terrifying speed, a skip sat surrounded by heaps of trash on the street. Unable to think, you could only shield your face with your hands, stretched out in front of you as if to stop the inevitable collision.

Though your eyes fell closed, you felt the jerk that flung your whole body backwards.

That wasn’t what you had expected.

Eyes snapping open in confusion, you found your vision lit with blue. In front of your face, blue light was shooting from your palms, pushing you up and away from the ground.

Your mouth fell open. Gaping in shock, you did nothing as the light died and you slowed again in the air.

Though you began falling much slower this time, you barely had time to notice your surroundings – much nearer the ground – before you were plummeting again, and this time nothing could stop you.

Your eyes weren’t even open when you felt your body slide off something. Not a second later, you were crumpling onto hard concrete which grazed your cheek.

You groaned.

It was dark. High above, any flashes of light didn’t reach you here, having landed in a thin alley beside the building. And though this shielded you from the commotion on the main streets out front, sirens still pierced the air, each one feeling like a stab to your head.

You clutched it as you maneuvered to sit. It took you a few tries, groping for a wall or something to lean against as you regained your balance.

Eyes cracking open, you waited patiently for the dark splotches to dispel before looking around.

Right next to you was a car which blocked you from view of the road beyond this alley. Evident from the dent that caved in its bonnet, that was what you had landed on.

Turning your head, you had to squint even more as light assaulted your sensitive eyes.

Among a blazing light, you could make out the vague shapes of rubbish bags and an overflowing skip that you recognised. Out of these, a vibrant fire was now burning. The correlation was too strong for you to ignore.

Breath shallow, you turned your horrified gaze to your hands.

They had done this… but how? They looked totally normal now.

Frowning, you brought them up closer to your face, so that your nose was practically buried in your palms.

No difference.

You were sure you hadn’t imagined that blue light which saved you earlier. Was there a way to make it come back?

While you were puzzling, you lowered your hands again, still staring intently as you rotated them in your lap.

Then, quick as a blink, a blue flash darted from them again. So fast, in fact, that you had no time to react before one of the bolts was fired directly into your opposite arm.

Snatching it away reflexively, you hissed in pain as a burning sensation crawled, tingling, over your skin there.

Despite the pain, the blue light didn't cease shooting from your hands. They tingled, a strangely uncomfortable sensation. It was as if something warm was wriggling its way up your veins and spilling from your fingertips.

“Stop! Stop!” you whispered in panic.

You turned them outwards, aiming away from you, but if they kept at it for much longer you were sure to draw attention.

Moving your hands around jerkily, the beams of light shook along with you, but did not go out. With each unsuccessful movement, panic made you more frantic until the glowing rays jerked erratically around the small space.

Straying too far, the light came into contact with a post at the alley’s entrance. You could only watch, helpless, as light like blue snakes skittered up it and latched around the wires it supported.

To your relief, the strange current seemed to have found an outlet, and only remained a second longer before cutting out. You were left blinking in the relative darkness. Panting heavily, you stared down at your hands, although you did not bring them too close anymore.

Once again, they appeared utterly innocent. There was nothing to suggest they had just channelled lightning through them.

Suddenly, the world plunged into darkness. The fire still burned at the other end of the alley, or you would have been left totally blind. In the building behind you, in the street, all the lights had gone out.

Almost instantly following the blackout, screaming rose again in the air.

Gulping, your eyes travelled to the blackened post at the corner, which you had accidentally electrocuted.

This was bad. Your head was spinning, both from your short, hard fall and from the whirlwind of events that had happened in what could only have been minutes. Surrounded by darkness, with the wail of the city and a fire for company, you could only see one course of action.

Run.

You had to get away from here. It wasn’t safe. You had little idea where was safe, but you couldn’t be here anymore.

It wasn’t like you had anyone to call who would care enough to come and pick you up. Nor did you have the money to try a hospital, though you felt as if you may need it.

But especially with electricity shooting from your hands at the drop of a hat, it probably wasn’t best to be anywhere around people.

The dizziness from your unfortunate landing on the car had worn off while you were sitting, but the world swayed anew the moment you made to stand. Pushing determinedly against the wall, you struggled on anyway, brand new dark spots in your vision offset by the brightness of the fire you walked towards.

This end of the alleyway led out through smaller streets, away from the city centre and furore of sirens.

On reaching the opening, you cautiously assessed the road stretching away either side. Empty. And if there was anyone there, they wouldn’t see you in this darkness.

Shoving your hands beneath your armpits on some misguided hope of keeping them from causing problems, you lowered your head and ran. It was more of a jog, considering everything, but you still moved as quickly as you could beneath the dead streetlamps.

Head throbbing more with movement, you stumbled a few times as you went. The pavement tilted around you.

You had made it a few roads before you felt that awful tingling in your arms again. It itched, like something fighting its way out of your skin.

Nausea rolled in the pit of your stomach. This couldn’t be real.

Slowing down and stopping beneath a signpost, you drew your shaking hands out in front of you. The world careened on its axis, revolving around the sight of your palms as a faint blue glow grew in them.

You were going to throw up, you were sure of it.

You wanted it to stop.

A few flickers of blue darted down the veins in your wrist. Towards your fingertips. Sparks leapt from them, small tendrils of lightning crackling between your fingers like webbing.

At last, you gave in to the rising horror mixed with a sick feeling. The floor’s spinning became too much, your hands turning to a bright blur in the centre of your vision.

You passed out on the spot.

Lights were turning on again around the city. Television sets flickering back to life to announce Bolt’s victory against the beast that had attacked earlier that evening.

But not on the street where you still lay.

The return of light only reached neighbouring roads, dim glow snuffed out before it could penetrate the middle of this street. A white-haired young man stepped forwards, but his face was totally obscured in darkness.

“Here,” he spoke to the silence.

The next moment, a deep red glowed in the middle of the road, though it brought little light. The red bounced off a signpost before it was gone, replaced by another man, seemingly from nowhere.

The newest arrival stood there, looking down at your figure, unconscious by the sign. Then he disappeared again, leaving total darkness behind as if he had never been there at all.

A few more moments passed, you and the hidden man the only beings on the dark road.

Not very long after, a car’s engine rumbled and sputtered into earshot. The bright beam of headlights rounded the corner, growing larger and shedding light on your form as it drew closer.

Pulling up next to you, the engine died along with the lights. Two doors opened and slammed shut.

As two pairs of feet stepped nearer to join the one remaining beside you, the streetlamp directly overhead began to glow. The faint glimmer grew until it illuminated the scene. Still no other lights joined it, leaving the small group of you lit up as if by spotlight.

“It’s her?”

The man crouching beside you asked the question without looking up, and the shadowed man answered.

“Pretty sure.”

“She’s breathing?”

“Yes.”

The crouching man hummed. Moving to kneel instead, his eyes roved over your somewhat battered face, dark hair obscuring his own.

“Namjoon?” he asked then, turning to the other man from the car. It was the same man who had momentarily appeared in the street earlier.

Taking his cue, the tall man, Namjoon, walked forwards and bent to lift your hands by the wrists. In just moments he was placing them carefully back, nodding.

“No doubt.”

“Okay then.”

“Can she travel, Jin?”

“Give me a moment.”

Producing a small object, he pressed a button and a small light sprung from the end. Carefully lifting one of your eyelids, he shone the light into it, observing like a doctor.

The first you became aware of was the far away sound of voices being quietly exchanged. But with the cloudiness in your head, identifying them didn’t seem very urgent. You were preoccupied with the swirling feeling that made the world swim around you, even though it was dark.

But as dim awareness was returning to you, the process of regaining your senses was violently accelerated as a blinding light was thrust into your vision.

You flinched, and as Jin pulled away he saw you blink, eyelids screwing shut in protest. His eyebrows raised in slight concern as he watched your first groggy movements.

Blinking around at the dimly lit figures over you, your eyes widened. The nearest man held the illuminated light stick. Was he a doctor?

Next, your eyes darted to the tall man standing behind him. You recognised neither.

Some strange feeling told you someone else was standing there too, but when you looked to your other side you were faced with nothing but empty shadow.

“Can you sit?”

The first man’s question was gentle, his hands ready to support you.

Nodding timidly, you heaved yourself up with his help. It embarrassed you to be panting after just that much movement.

“What happened?” came the next question.

As you replayed the events, you avoided their eyes. You could not let them know what happened, what you had become. They were helping you, and yet you might hurt them-

Fists clenching subconsciously, you stuttered in panic.

“I-I can’t pay,” you told them, but before you could say more a new voice was speaking. The standing man stepped forwards, his voice calm and surprisingly friendly.

“There’s no need to pay. We can help you. Can you tell us what happened?”

“I don’t, uh, I-I-“

His eyes travelled towards your hands, which you were trying to tuck behind you.

“You gained powers, didn’t you?”

You froze.

“I have them too,” he smiled, “I know what it’s like to be scared. But you can work with this and learn to control them. I’m Namjoon, and this is Jin. We’ve been through this before, we can help you.”

At your sides, your hands relaxed. Tension lifted from your tightly hunched shoulders. Wordless, you looked between the men who were watching you, ready to move, but only on your word.

Swallowing, a light frown creased your brow.

“What do you want-”

Namjoon’s smile dimmed into something kinder.

“At least let us check you over.”

Your hands fretted together. It was strange, you couldn’t feel anything there. Surely they should feel different? How would you know if these… powers, Namjoon had said, were to come back?

“You won’t hurt us, don’t worry,” he seemed to anticipate your thoughts as he watched you, “we can protect ourselves.”

“You were unconscious,” Jin spoke, drawing your perplexed gaze back to him, “did you hit your head?”

You blinked, but found yourself answering.

“I think so.”

Nodding, Jin shuffled at your side. He leaned a bit closer.

“I need to shine this light in your eyes again. You may have a concussion.”

Complying, you sat through the eye-watering brightness. He asked you things, like a doctor would, except he was working in the middle of an empty street in the middle of the night.

“Do you feel dizzy?”

“I did. I think still, a little.”

“Any nausea?”

“Yeah… but maybe because of the…” you gestured to your hands.

Jin sat back, taking the light with him. Namjoon shot you a sympathetic smile at that. You supposed he had been through the same thing, from the sounds of it.

Jin looked up at Namjoon.

“It looks pretty rough. Definitely a concussion, and she needs patching up, but in the long run she’ll be fine.”

“I-I’m serious,” you interjected, “I don’t have the money for hospital…”

Your voice faltered. You half thought of asking to just go home, but you were hardly sure of even making it there by yourself. And if you got there, then what? The prospect of burning down the place with these errant powers didn’t fill you with comfort.

“Good thing we’re not going to bring you there, then,” Namjoon said, “but I meant it when I said we could help. We can take you home, if you want… but you can stay with us, too.”

You stared at him wordlessly. Was it crazy that you were considering this?

“Just for a bit, if you need,” Jin added softly, “it’s just… now might not be the smartest time to be alone.”

You chewed your cheek. But your head was pounding too much to think very hard, and this seemed like the most straightforward option. The people in this city kept surprising you, after your first stroke of luck with Kuyang's generosity.

“Sure…” you spoke quietly, not quite able to look them in the eyes, “yes please.”

“Okay,” Namjoon took it in stride, “but let’s get moving.”

“Just one moment – we should wrap that.”

Gesturing towards your arm, Jin stood and went back to the car. On his return, he knelt again and began to secure cling film around the angry red blotch blistering your skin, where you had caught yourself with your own beam.

“We’ll sort it out properly when we get back,” he told you, “but Namjoon’s right, we should be going.”

You followed his gaze which seemed to dart up and down the street. However, nothing was there.

Jin helped you stand, still looking around. Sure enough, the dizziness from before hadn’t quite left you yet. Biting down on your lip, you focussed hard on getting the short distance to the car. You were led to the passenger seat and crumpled gratefully into it.

But just as Jin closed the door, you felt an uncomfortable prickling clutch your forearms again. Namjoon slid into the back seat in time to hear your gasp, noticing the way your fingers flexed in panic. Digging in his pockets, he produced a pair of thin black gloves and held them out to you just as the first trickles of blue appeared in your veins again. He watched with a studious frown as you pushed your hands into the gloves.

“Those will help,” he said, still looking at your wrists, “they can contain the powers. But you shouldn’t keep them on for too long.”

Jin was seating himself in the driver’s side as you frowned over at Namjoon. At first you had been relieved to have a solution to your erratic lightning problem, but that was ripped away at his last addition.

“Why not? It will keep you safe,” you questioned, but kept your voice quiet.

“Don’t worry, we’re more than capable of handling anything you could throw at us,” he laughed, “but you can keep them on in here. Best not to bottle up your powers forever, though.”

Resigned, you turned back to face front. The moment Jin stepped on the gas, all the lights in the road sparked to life at once. Startled, you blinked, looking around. On the pavement you were just pulling away from, a man was walking away, unidentifiable behind a hoodie.

Slumping back in your seat, you breathed a short, dry laugh. This mysterious happening was just the latest in this crazy night. You had no choice but to accept it.

The car ride was fairly short, but you were too tired and distracted to take in exactly where you were going. Streets seemed to blur together, aware only that you were heading out of town.

The itching in your arms had persisted for a while, but as promised, the gloves seemed to work. No fiery blue burst out of your palms, and, eventually, whatever it was decided to give it up, subsiding again by the time the car pulled up.

But no one got out yet. Jin had stopped at the end of a small road, big enough for only one vehicle, directly facing an expanse of crumbling and graffitied brick.

Curiosity woke you up from your daze, and you watched as Jin reached to tap something on his dashboard. Almost instantly, a groaning reached your ears from over the whirring of the engine. The wall ahead shook before shifting, sliding sideways until it tucked itself behind a dented dustbin, unveiling a space beyond.

Leaving you little more time to wonder, Jin started the car again and you rolled downwards through a plain, dark entrance. It reminded you of those multi-storey car parks formed with ugly blocks of concrete. It was considerably smaller than those, however, Jin pullingup into a space alongside about a dozen other vehicles, beyond which the place seemed entirely deserted.

Jin came around to open your door, but you were able to stand by yourself. It was still a bit of a struggle, your limbs sluggish and the world dull around you – although that may have just been the low underground light.

Namjoon led you, Jin staying close by your side. Blinking at the space as you moved through it, your eyes traced over the various car roofs, some cleaner than others. A larger four-by-four was particularly beaten up, with a large crease in one of the metal wheel arches.

Your eyes rested longest on what was probably the most pristine: a motorbike, at first hidden by the cars either side of it.

Soon enough, you were past them. Stopping as Namjoon did, you watched him expectantly. However, he did not turn around, instead standing face-to-face with a plain concrete wall. Except… now a low rumble announced the movement of a panel which slid away, revealing a wide doorway which had previously blended seamlessly with the flat wall.

Your eyebrows raised at the touch that was reminiscent of Kuyang’s lab. Without time for you to dwell on this, your small group moved up a dingy staircase that lay beyond the doorway.

At the top, you emerged into a new space, notably lighter than before. You assumed you were back on ground level, perhaps above. It was hard to be sure, disoriented as you still were in the whirlwind that had overtaken your day.

Bizarrely, the space appeared to be someone’s home. There was a large and coffee-stained table surrounded by mismatching chairs, a kitchen behind it littered with mugs and pot plants. Still, beyond the lived-in array of things lying around, it was big. You imagined it must be miles more expensive than the shoddy apartment you stayed in.

It was open plan, and you followed Namjoon past the dining table towards an area filled with two enormous sofas.

The back of a blond head was visible over the sofa, and now the person turned towards you.

“Guys!” a loud exclamation rang out as he leapt up. A dazzling smile spread across his mouth.

When his eyes fell on you, wincing at his sudden volume, the smile dimmed a little.

“Not so loud, Hope-ah,” Jin spoke gently from behind you.

“Sorry,” he dipped his head, smile remaining on his lips.

Jin’s hands came lightly to your back, steering you over to a sofa. As you sunk into it with relief, the blond man sat across from you, tilting his head to catch your eye.

“I’m Hope,” he smiled, “I’m glad we found you. You’ll be right in no time!”

Frowning, you couldn’t help but notice his eyes flicking over the damage on your face. Averting your gaze, you chewed your lip absently.

What did he mean? I’m glad we found you…

Had they been looking for you? You still weren’t sure if it was a lucky coincidence they found you, but perhaps it was something more.

The lingering ache in your head forced you to push the issue away. You missed Namjoon’s stern look at Hoseok as he hovered behind your seat.

Jin pulled a pack from a cupboard and set it beside you. You let him lift your arm and unwrap the burn, your unfocussed eyes dragging across the room while he applied something cold over it. Next came stinging, scattered over your face as he wiped at the small cuts and grazes with an apologetic grimace you barely saw.

You only forced the world back into focus when someone else entered your sight. Emerging from behind you, a gentle, friendly smile was directed your way from a man with pale pink hair. Swallowing, you never managed to smile back before he was turning away.

The pink-haired man reached a hand out to someone you couldn’t see. Another man appeared, walking towards him, but he never looked at you. Or if he did, it was obscured behind the black hair that fell to his eyes.

The two new people left towards the kitchen, though not without another smile from the pink one.

Who were all these people?

Frowning after them, you were interrupted by a clap on the shoulder from Jin.

“We’ll talk more in the morning. You need to rest.”

Looking around, you had half a mind to protest, but were overruled by the shakiness taking over your frame. Body too fatigued to allow you much say, you meekly followed Jin.

Beyond the living space, a thinner corridor led away, several closed doors along its walls.

Further you went, until a door just ahead opened. Another person walked out.

When he stopped to face you, his posture remained stiff. Tall and muscular, he was clad all in black except for a towel slung over his shoulder. Damp hair fell messily around his head. But you had little time to take this in, as his eyes fixed themselves fiercely on yours, rendering you unable to look away.

Mouth remaining in a hard line, his expression only twitched further into a frown.

Then his gaze flicked abruptly away, travelling to Jin just beyond you.

“Kook-“

Jin never got further than that before the man strode forwards, marching sharply past you and away with a scowl. Turning after him in surprise, you watched his tense shoulders disappear behind Namjoon, who you hadn’t noticed hovering.

Namjoon stared sternly after him, but the man seemed to avoid his gaze.

Jin sighed, sending an apologetic glance at you.

“That’s just Jungkook,” Namjoon spoke, ushering you all further along the hallway, “don’t pay him any attention.”

“Why was…”

You trailed off, unsure of what exactly to ask. Neither of them made an attempt to answer.

You had no idea a wordless encounter could leech so much hostility into the atmosphere. Picturing Jungkook’s glowering face, you blindly followed the others through a different door.

“You can sleep in here.”

“Hm?”

Shaking yourself, you looked around the new room. There wasn’t much to see. Beside a low bed, there was a mirror, a wooden closet and nothing more. Looking up, you didn’t even find a light in the ceiling. The only light leaked through from the hallway.

Clearly reading your gaping mouth and furrowing brow, Namjoon moved in front of you.

“Don’t worry, this is just a place to sleep, nothing more. But since you’re going to have to take those gloves off, we can’t have you in a space with any electricals.”

Stepping back defensively, your fingers pressed tightly together. Having the gloves on had let you almost imagine that nothing life-changing had happened. Like gaining unpredictable powers, for instance.

Namjoon watched patiently, holding out a hand.

“You don’t need them…”

He realised he had never asked your name, and let his sentence trail expectantly. Telling him your name, he relaxed into a smile.

“You don’t need them, Y/N,” he repeated, not that you believed him for a second, “you’ll be perfectly safe. And so will we.”

Only the yearning to collapse onto the bed persuaded you to hand over the gloves. The instant they were in his hand, you swore you could feel a shock go up your arm. Immediately tense again, your breathing became shallower, with no idea how to try and stop power shooting from your hands any moment.

But Namjoon and Jin seemed content. Before you could gather your thoughts, they had left, closing the door and drenching your room in near total darkness.

Stumbling to the bed and virtually falling into it, you wiped sweating palms against the fabric. Your mouth was dry with fear.

This couldn’t have happened.

Alone for the first time since your initial panic, it didn’t take long for your mind to wrap itself in circles again. Only hours ago, you had been sitting happily in your bright office, going through the motions…

One split-second decision from a powerful man had changed that.

You knew full well he had intended for you to die. But he was Bolt...

He had probably forgotten about it already. The guard he sent lifeless to the floor, the secretary he threw from the building.

Itching feeling returning, you swallowed desperately and raised your hands. Sure enough, against the darkness, blue pierced your vision, darting its way up-

Turning your face away, you flinched as the outburst came. Your eyes screwed shut, you pressed your cheek into fabric, not wanting to see the deathly lightning that shot through the room. Shuddering breaths broke into your lungs when at last it subsided.

Letting them fall, limp, to your sides, your hands fisted the covers tightly.

You were almost afraid to open your eyes, knowing it would only show you the empty room, confirmation that this was real. You were dangerous, shut in a safe room where you could hurt no one. Would you ever get out? Succeed in controlling this, like Namjoon had said?

With no idea where you were, barely any idea who the people here were, you wanted to block it out. But even with your eyes closed, you couldn’t escape.

The memory of Jungkook’s suspicious face made your heart sink. Perhaps people should be afraid of you, now. As much as you may want to, there was no getting away from this.

Pushing yourself to sit, you surveyed the room. Eyes accustomed to the blackness a little more, you could make out vague shapes. Your breath fell alone in the silence. This really was the safest place you could be right now, even if it was a nightmare.

As your head turned, you suddenly came level with your eyes in the mirror, and a shock of light.

For an extended moment, you could only stare.

Then all at once you were rushing forwards, tripping from the end of the bed. Bracing your arms against the wall either side of the mirror, you gaped at your reflection.

As you watched, an angular bolt of blue shot across your irises, which were already dimly glowing.

You gulped against the thick feeling crawling up your throat. Faced with this, you could no longer have any hope of denying it.

This was really happening.

Thank you for reading!! Please please let me know your thoughts on this chapter, comments make it all worthwhile!💜💜

masterlist | next>

taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine @written-in-flowers @taegularities @dvalities @parapiop7 @taiwan0618 @11thenightwemet11 @junniesoleilkth @doctorquack @oddinary4bts @svnbangtansworld @ktownshizzle @minisugakoobies @jksusawife

Let me know in a comment or ask if you would like to join the taglist🥰

[ryuzakemo128]

Grim Reaper Part Three

Pairings: Poly 141 x female reader / female reader x her mental health

Content Warnings: Kidnapping, breaking and entering, mention of one-night stand, pregnancy from one night stand, possessive & obsessed Austrian man.

Words: 2345

Masterlist - Prequel - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven

Supernatural AU - Poem

Credit for Dividers: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Note: Song inspired this part: Only You by The Platters

Summary:

Only you can make all this world seem right.

Only you can make the darkness bright.

Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do

And fill my heart with love for only you

‘If you think you are perfect because you have no disabilities, illness or family trauma. I will be there to knock you to back on your knees and crush you like the ant you are.’

‘Pathetic.’

‘Weak.’

‘More excuses from those who have a superiority complex.’

‘Turn away like you do when someone asks for help, when foster homes and orphanages do shady shit. Your word mean nothing to me.’

‘Leave. Me. Alone.’

They don’t know what your real name is. Your file is coated in so many layers of black ink it might as well be a black page. Even then, so much of who you are and what made who you have remained classified. Under lock and key. Away from unauthorized personnel. To be able to view your file they would need permission from your superiors as well as their boss.

You wore a nanofiber, reinforced body suit underneath your shirt and trousers. The black jacket draped over your shoulders, as you continued to glare from the sidelines. “I don’t care why you might want to have her. She’s not yours to have, she doesn’t belong to you, she isn’t yours to take. She is better off in our care than she is in yours. Don’t ask or request for this again.” Your superior, to say he was angry with them would be an understatement.

“It’s like they don’t understand how you function.” He groaned as he slammed the phone down. Cutting them off from making more incessant demands. You and he walked from his office to the mission briefing.

“Hopefully, they’ll find someone else to assist sir.” You told him.

He nodded in agreement, “Hopefully they do Reaper, hopefully they do.”

It felt like yesterday when that conversation occurred. You wanted to go back to that time. It was far simpler than the time of your life now. Things didn’t feel like they were constantly stacked against you for one reason or some other.

You were always told to love yourself. Yet you never learned how. You didn’t have a role model like the children you grew up with. You didn’t look up to your mother or your father, you saw them falling over themselves. Mentally, sometimes literally.

You wondered what it would like to have parents to pick you up from school. For your parents to put your report on the fridge to show off your good grades.

You reminded Soap, “I'm only helping you to make sure you don't fuck it up.”

The thick leather boots kept the cold snow from seeping to your limbs. You’ve been here before. Many times, before. The cold welcomed you back like a mother waiting for them at the front door after school.

You make took any work to have the excuse to avoid a confrontation from any of them. ‘Can’t confront someone if they’re not there, right?’ you mused with a slow smirk creeping across your face.

However, they weren’t keen on letting you slip away into the night, you were about to cut firewood as they huddled up in the main room. You didn’t mind the cold as much. It felt more welcoming to you than the warmth inside. Layering the wood, you cut up into the firewood holder inside. Picking it up from the wheelbarrow you found in the abandoned shed close by. You were about to make another trip outside. This time to gather sticks, leaves and anything to keep the fire going without resourcing to depleting their back-up firewood.

A firm hand grasping tightly on yours as you turned the doorknob, you were warm, weren’t you? You had more layers on than an onion, at least you felt like you had more layers on than people would have loved to assume. The reinforced bodysuit, the shirt, the trousers, the fur jacket over the top. Black leather with fur lined gloves to tie it all together.

Layers like an onion. Warm like a Siberian bear. The more dead wood from the snow-covered forest you gathered, seeing your mother everywhere still, you walked closer to her, or you attempted to. Yet no matter how close you got, the further away she was.

Was she a hallucination? A visual and audible hallucination? A product of her grief, lack of proper sleep, a lack of a proper send off when your parents passed at sixteen. Once you saw your mother, it was like something inside of you snapped. You didn’t realise you were chasing after her until you felt someone grab your wrist tightly.

You were slowly moving further away from the cabin, step by step, losing your mind in a haze of grief.

‘Have you come to apologise?’ you wondered. Moving faster to get closer to her. Hearing her humming through the forest. Echoing through the trees. Feeling like you were ten years old playing hide and seek with your mother in the park. Only for to disappear whenever you got too close to her.

You didn't hear them calling out to you to snap out of it. You were too caught up in the chase, the illusion of your mother's presence. The cold wind whipped around you, but you felt no chill. Your mind was racing, your heart pounding. You were desperate to find her, to talk to her, to understand.

‘I’m coming mother. Wait for me.’

‘Wait for me.’

‘Please mother.’

Those three thoughts repeating like clockwork, repeating like a broken record. A grandfather clock chiming, the sound of the reverse and slowed down. You never caught up. As soon as you closed your eyes and opened them again. The illusion of your mother vanished, replaced by the stark reality of the snow-covered forest.

As the illusion of your mother faded, you found yourself standing in the middle of the snow-covered forest, the sound of your own ragged breathing echoing in the quiet. You felt a cold shiver run down your spine, not from the frigid air, but from the realisation of what had just happened.

When you got back to the cabin, you hoped you were quiet enough to sneak to your corner and sleeping bag to go to sleep. Ghost spotting you asleep in the corner, arms crossed and frowning like you were still annoyed with someone.

Even in your sleep. You looked like you were tired of dealing with people. Though you were not as young as people assumed you were. You were treated like you didn’t know anything or that you didn’t know any better.

“I’m a thirty-year-old woman. I’ve been in the military for twelve years. Stop treating me like I don’t know anything.” You said to Price once. You were beyond angry at the time. “You have second guessed every decision I’ve made since this whole thing started. If you have an issue with how I did things you could have told me instead. For someone so keen on open communication. You haven’t been doing a lot of it.”

"I apologize, Reaper," he said, his voice sincere. "I've been under a lot of stress lately, and I've taken it out on you. I trust your judgment, and I'm sorry for doubting it."

“Try to do better. An apology without action is just as bad as no apology at all.” You reminded him. “And no, I’m not mad at you, a little disappointed, but not mad.”

Price raised an eyebrow at the second part of what you said, "You're not mad? That’s a first.”

“What can I say? I’m full of stardust and miracles.” You snorted sipping your coffee, wrapping your gloved fingers around the white coffee mug.

Price chuckled, "You're definitely something else, Reaper."

“I try. It’s hard work, and most of the time, a bow and arrow doesn’t always cut it.” You replied, taking another sip of your coffee.

His gaze falling on the compact bow on the table, next to your recurve bow, more like hunting bows. The military didn’t use them as far as knew. You have been using them to hunt for more food, Ghost said something about it while you were gone hunting.

Soap loved taking naps near you afterwards, which didn’t bother you nearly as much as they assumed. “We’re in a snowy area.” You stated. As if they should think about the cold rather than anything illicit.

His head resting on your shoulder, as you both were fast asleep, as Ghost walked inside from the blizzard outside. His breath fogging up in front of his face, closing the door behind him. Eyes drifting over to where you and Soap were huddled together on the couch in front of the fireplace.

Now the mission a distant memory. An echo inside their minds. News of your kidnapping drifted to them. A week after it had occurred. You were taken by someone while you were on mandatory leave. Price kicking himself mentally. How would he have known this would be the outcome of sending you back home?

“When was the last message she sent out?” Price asked Gaz, his frown deep and his impatience growing by the second.

Gaz checked the transcripts of the most recent messages she had sent them to the last one she had sent through before the recent one. Searching for a possible connection between the last two calls you made. The only thing standing out to them was the number. The number of your mother’s cell phone stood out to them as an anomaly.

The last two calls you made were to your mother’s cell phone. Odd. Suspicious even.

“Gaz, run a trace on the phone number, Soap, grab the co-ordinates after Gaz gives you and follow up on the location of where the phone call might have come from.” Price said to the two of them.

Alaska. Northern part of the forest called the Chugach National Forest.

"According to what I've seen. It is coming from a burner phone." Gaz told Price.

Soap is still gripping onto the shirt you gave him a year ago. "Take it." You said.

"Odd way to give a present Reaper." Soap smirked.

"Odd way to say, 'thank you' Soap." You countered with a smirk. You didn't know how to give people presents without making it awkward.

Yet Soap, he never seemed to mind. He always seemed to appreciate your awkward attempts at gift-giving. He cherished them. Although now his mind has is pictures of you in an oversized hoodie.

When your rank of Lieutenant Colonel was revealed to them. A picture of you at 18, dead pan expression and a tired look in your eyes giving look of a 'perpetually resting bitch face' according to Price. Which strangely enough fit you, well that, along with your personality of a stray feline with a penchant of an Irish goodbye.

The last recorded message to them, 'It's weird being back home. But doctors’ orders are final, and I don't think I would be able to look him in the eye if I didn't. Fear of failure is scary I'll say it. It's strange here. Too quiet. I think I got used to Price's snoring and Gaz's endless chatter. You have no idea how many times I was overstimulated, and your chatter was the perfect white noise I needed. Hard to have ADHD and depressive disorder with psychotic traits mixed in. But hey, it is what it is, and the rest is stardust, biscuits, naps and getting scared because you saw your own mask in the mirror at 3am. I'll say this once though I love you. I'll never say to your face because you'll have to pry the word from me like you'd have pry the mint chocolate ice cream from my cold dead fingers. But, yeah, I love you and I'll see you soon alright? And you too Ghost."

The last message you sent out. 'I think someone might be in my house. Not too keen on being someone's target. Ghost, being you're the responsible one out of the two of us. I sent you confirmation of where I lived with my parents. A starting point.' The background noise of creaking floorboards, as you whispered. An unmistakable Austrian accent, "Maus where are you?" In the background followed by heavy rain masking the footsteps.

You continued to whisper into the phone as the message was pretty long in duration. "Ghost, you were right, I admit it, you were right during that argument, and I was clearly wrong." You moved to the attic. Sneaking there while the intruder was downstairs. You continued to whisper, "I'm sorry I argued with you. I should've listened to you. I should've stayed with you. I should've..." Your voice trailed off as you fumbled with the attic hatch, trying to secure it. "I should've just stayed with you."

A sob escaped your lips as you realized your mistake. You had been so stubborn, so determined to prove your independence, that you had ignored the warning signs. Now, you were trapped, alone, and terrified.

You pulled out your phone and sent a final message to Ghost: "I was wrong. He found me. I'm in the attic."

"Mäuschen there you are." The male Austrian voice said in a chilling tone, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the attic hatch. The line went dead as he crushed the cell phone beneath his hefty foot. "You're pregnant Maus. I can't have you hurting OUR child."

You didn’t know what he was getting at, what did he mean by our child? Surely you remember what he means by that don’t you? Apparently, it seems to bother him. It bothers him that you don’t remember him. That’s fine Maus. He’ll make you remember him. One way or another, you will remember who he is.

Over his shoulder you go Maus.

Right to the den of inequity.

One of his own making.

Only you can make all this world seem right.

Only you can make the darkness bright.

Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do

And fill my heart with love for only you

Note: I'm trying to hint at him without revealing who he is too fast. I hope you enjoyed reading. See you when part 4 comes out.

German Meaning for:

Maus means mouse.

Mauschen means little mouse.

[yandere-writer-momo]

🌶️ Yandere Baki Shorts:

Mine 🌶️

Yandere Hanayama Kaoru x Afab reader x Kizaki

I wanted to do something a little darker. A little smutty. So you have this monstrosity of 5.5k words.

Kaoru is about 24/25 in this.

Also! Did you know most men want to be with women who are like their moms? (Weird)

Minors DNI

TW: stalking, yandere behavior, uncomfortable themes, misogyny, mommy issues, forced marriage, dubcon, and forced voyeurism

…………………………………………….

Kizaki was doing it again, Kaoru noted. His dark eyes observing his right hand man smiling at the lucent screen. Just what has been so interesting to him over these last few months that he was failing to listen to his words?

“Kizaki?” Kizaki nearly dropped his phone from his hand when Kaoru’s deep voice rung throughout the limousine. “What is so interesting?”

Kizaki’s eyes dart to the steering wheel, sweat pooling down his back in nervousness. Should he tell his boss he’s been seeing someone? That he met a wonderful young woman while out on a food run for Kaoru a few months back?

“Kizaki.” Kaoru’s tone is stern, his gaze now narrowed. This wasn’t like Kizaki. The older man was usually quite diligent with his job but as of late, he’s been giggling like a schoolgirl at his phone. A rosy blush now spotted on his tanned cheeks and he seemed more at ease as of late… was he sick?

“I can’t hide anything from you, boss…” Kizaki rubs the back of his neck. “I have a girlfriend.”

Something broke in Kaoru’s head like a glass vase from Kizaki’s words. Kizaki had a girlfriend… a girlfriend. A girlfriend before Kaoru.

A silence consumed the limousine, the tension so thick that it could be sliced with a knife. Kizaki hadn’t meant to make things awkward…

“She must be an amazing woman.” Kaoru mutters softly under his breath. He should be happy that Kizaki was seeing someone… and yet, he was jealous. Kaoru couldn’t keep a girlfriend for more than a month.

And it always fell back on him. His life was too dangerous, he was too emotionless, he wasn’t romantic enough, he was too much in bed, or he was too controlling. Kaoru was too much for a girl and he just accepted it. He was never going to find anyone to love someone like him.

Yet… he craved it. He wanted a woman as wonderful as his mother. A beautiful,demure woman who would listen to him and comfort him… it was unrealistic, he knew that. Kaoru has only truly adored one woman in his life and that was his mother. No other woman could compare to her, at least the ones he’s been around as of late.

“Boss? I apologize for not telling you sooner.” Kizaki snaps Kaoru from his daze. The yakuza boss clearing his throat. How unprofessional of him to get lost in his own musings while his most trusted man shared a bit of his personal life with him.

“It’s alright… I understand.” Kaoru trailed off, his attention turning to the bustling city streets. He was getting into his emotions again, he needed to calm down before they spilled out. “You’re allowed to have a life outside of me.”

Kizaki smiles sadly at his boss. He has always been worried about Kaoru. The younger man just seemed lonelier as the years dragged on… ever since his mother’s passing.

“If there’s anything you want or anything I can do for you, let me know.” Kizaki smiles warmly at his boss.

Oh how those words were going to bite him back…

.

.

.

Kaoru noticed Kizaki buying a bouquet of roses every so often as the seasons went by. The soft red petals reminding him of a distant memory of his mother. She was always so fond of the prickly, aromatic flowers. But their beauty could never compare to hers… he missed her everyday.

“Is she fond of them?” Kaoru asks, his dark eyes glancing into Kizaki’s through the rear view mirror. The older man smiling at him.

“Yes. I personally peel off the thorns for her. Delicate flowers for my delicate lady.” Kizaki says more to himself than Kaoru. “She deserves only the best…”

Kaoru clenched his fist tightly. The skin on his hand now a pale white. He shouldn’t be jealous of Kizaki, he truly shouldn’t. It’s not as if he desired Kizaki’s woman. It was more of a fact that Kizaki had found love despite his criminal status while Kaoru himself still struggled.

Kaoru was in his mid twenties now and he had yet to have a long term partner.

Women came and went out of his life. Whether they were a date for the night or someone to warm his bed, nothing ever came from his numerous attempts at companionship. Romance was an entirely different story all together. He wasn’t a romantic nor was he good at comfort. He was a man who was hardened by the horrors in his life and there was no one willing to patiently wait for him to open up… there was no one who ever tried to love him… love is what he truly desired deep down.

Perhaps that’s why he drowned himself in liquor, crimes, and fights. Just a bit of serotonin and he would be okay. Just another shot of adrenaline and he wouldn’t think about it. Hanayama Kaoru didn’t need anyone or anything. He was too proud to ever admit aloud that he was lonely.

“Boss? You seem a bit quieter than normal.” Kizaki piped up from the driver’s seat. Quieter than normal? Kaoru was quiet in general. “What’s on your mind?”

Kaoru opened his mouth to speak before he ultimately decided to shut it. He wouldn’t trouble Kizaki with his woes. He didn’t want to ruin the man’s night with his girlfriend. Kizaki didn’t have to always put Kaoru above himself. The older man has loyally served Kaoru for years now. The man deserved a life outside of the Hanayama family.

“It’s nothing.” Yes… it was nothing.

.

.

.

Kaoru felt his stomach drop when he caught a glimpse of a young woman holding Kizaki’s arm across the street. Who was she?

“Oh that’s Kizaki’s girlfriend, (your name).” One of his men shared with a smile. It was as if he read Kaoru’s mind. A hand was then placed on his shoulder. “She’s a really pretty thing.”

Kaoru droned out his men’s words other than her name. Her name was even pretty… Kaoru observed Kizaki and her laugh together. She looked so gentle… so unlike the women he attracts. How did Kizaki find her?

Kaoru watched Kizaki speak to her before the man noticed Kaoru across the street. Kizaki then whispered something in her ear, the young woman turning to glance over in Kaoru’s direction.

(Eye color) eyes meeting smoldering obsidian eyes for the first time. Kaoru’s breath was stuck in his throat when she gave him a smile so bright, it felt like he was hit with a ray of sunshine.

Kaoru nearly choked on his spit, his eyes memorizing her facial structure and expression. This was the first time a woman has ever happily greeted him…

Kaoru shook his head. This was wrong. He couldn’t be pinning after his best friend’s girlfriend…

Kaoru gave a small wave back before he turned his attention back to the task at hand.

Kaoru would not let this crush grow anymore… it wouldn’t end well for Kizaki.

.

.

.

Kaoru couldn’t get her out of his head. Her face haunting his dreams… her smile appearing every time he shut his eyes. She was inescapable and it was hell.

(Your name) looked just like a dream to him… his mind was making her into some romanticized version of herself and he just couldn’t stop the delusions from overtaking his mind. Kaoru found himself increasingly slipping through the cracks of reality and into his fantasies.

Kaoru ran his fingers through his hair and sighed loudly. What was the point in fixating on her if he could not have her? He was a horrible person for even having indecent thoughts about Kizaki’s girlfriend. How could he not be jealous? Was he that unlovable?

Kaoru could feel his eyes water a bit but he shook his head to stop them from falling. Men don’t cry.

Yet today was a day he would allow himself to wallow in self pity. It was the anniversary of his mother’s death and just like every year before this one, he was determined to visit her grave.

The limousine came to a stop at the cemetery, Kaoru exiting the vehicle in a timely fashion. A giant bouquet of red roses in his large hands.

“Are you sure you don’t need any guards?” Kizaki asks from the driver’s seat. The older man’s eyes filled with worry.

“I’m not a child, Kizaki. I’ll be fine.” Kaoru reassured his friend. Even if something did happen to him, it’s not like Kaoru couldn’t handle it. He danced with death so often, it became a dance routine.

“Alright… I’ll be back in an hour to get you.” Kizaki then drove off, leaving Kaoru behind.

The yakuza boss made his way up the cobblestone step until the graves because more and more familiar. His eyes watery once they landed on his mother’s grave. A grim reminder that she was gone…

The sky was cloudy and a light drizzle kissed his skin with each step until he stood in front of the elegant monument that held his mother under it.

“Hello, mom…”

Kaoru knelt in front of the grave stone and placed the roses beside the angel shaped tombstone. He reached into his suit jacket to pull out a lighter to light some incense. The tears were slowly starting to fall from his stone cold face.

Kaoru’s ears picked up a soft humming. He turned his head and noticed a familiar young woman kneeling at another grave across the rows of tombstones. A modest white dress on her form as she knelt on the grass. A stain no doubt would be on her knees, but to Kaoru, she still looked like a fairy.

She slowly turned to face him once she noticed his presence. (Eye color) eyes meeting obsidian once more, this time at closer proximity.

Her eyes widened at his tears. The young woman getting up and slowly making her way towards him as if he was some injured wild animal. And perhaps in her mind, he was. Kaoru couldn’t be certain of what she was thinking, he wasn’t a mind reader.

It was when she knelt before him that he could hear his heart drumming in his head. Thump. Badump. Thump.

Time slowed down when she placed her small hands on his scarred cheeks and wiped the trail of tears from his face. This had to be a dream… there was no way she was really before him… and then she hugged him. Her small barely fitting around his waist as she pulled him into a warm embrace.

Kaoru sucked in a shaky breath when her warm skin met his. The scent of roses lulling him into a dream like state of relaxation. Her body fit so perfectly against his… like a missing puzzle piece.

“It’s okay…” and as soon as those softly whispered words left her plump lips, he was completely under her spell. His walls were knocked down and the waterworks began.

Large muscular arms pulled her body flush against his, his face buried in the crook of her neck as a sob wracked through his chest. He held her like a lifeline as years of pent up tears cascade down his scarred face. Her comforting scent of roses calming him in a familiar way…

Kaoru glanced over at his mother’s grave as a revelation hit him. His mother must have sent (your name) to meet him… that’s why they are so similar… why she smelled of roses and was oh so soft. She was his destiny.

Their meeting here at the cemetery and their comforting interaction was fate…

And on that cold, cloudy day, Kaoru finally succumbed to his delusions.

.

.

.

The first gift that came to (your name)‘s house was a bouquet of ruby colored roses. There had to be at least a hundred of them in the little black box they came in.

The scent was overpoweringly heady and sweet to the point that it gave her a headache… but it was sweet of Kizaki to buy her roses. It’s been a minute since he’s gotten her a bouquet of her favorite flowers…

She smiled as she brought the bouquet up to her roses and inhaled the scent. Hmm… there was another scent mixed in there… almost like a tobacco scent which was strange. Why would someone spray cologne in with the roses?

Oh well, she’d display them in the center of her table so she can enjoy the present her boyfriend had gotten her.

She was unaware of the scarred man who sat on the bench across the street admiring her from afar… he was so happy she loved his gift. Especially because he left a piece of him with it… it’s important to accustom one’s partner to their scent. That way it’d be more calming to them.

Kaoru sighed and rose up from the bench. The giant man lighting a Cuban cigar and inhaling the tobacco deeply. Soon… he’d woo her soon.

.

.

.

“I didn’t get you a bouquet of roses, darling.” (Your name) felt her blood run cold at Kizaki’s words. He didn’t get her the roses… then who got her the roses? “Sorry but I have to get back to work. The boss has been keeping me so busy as of late…”

(Your name) lips twitched. She knew she was going to be second in Kizaki’s life compared to his boss, but lately she hasn’t been seeing her beau as much… it was a bit lonely to say the least.

“Be safe. Love you-“ Kizaki had hung up right away, leaving him no time to respond to her words of admiration. A sigh escaped her lips as she sat down at her table and buried her face in her hands.

It wasn’t Kizaki’s fault. He was a busy man and she shouldn’t bother him with her incessant chatter. She’d only call him if it became too much for her.

And oh did it become overwhelming quickly.

.

.

.

(Your name) found a gift for her every single day since the box of roses. Sometimes double gifts. Now it was exquisite jewelry pieces and designer clothing… how did they know her exact sizing and tastes?

She felt violated in her own home at this point. Who was her secret admirer and how did they know so much about her… and why were they so persistent?

(Your name) itched to call Kizaki but he’s been so busy with work and she didn’t want to add onto that stress. She was a big girl, she was sure she could handle this.

.

.

.

Another week had gone by and now she was even more paranoid. It felt as if someone’s eyes were always on her. That she had a stalker…

She swore sometimes she’d see the flash of a camera out of the corner of her eye. It was frustrating and terrifying all at once.

Not to mention the black limousine she’d spot near her place of work. Who on earth could be following her around? She didn’t think she was such an interesting person…

But lately, her rude clients have disappeared seemingly out of thin air. No one has heard of them since they screamed at you… it was strange.

The last two weeks have been so strange…

She arrived home a little earlier than normal since she felt sick at work. And low and behold… she caught her admirer red handed.

She just didn’t expect them to be Kizaki’s boss… Hanayama Kaoru was it? Despite his rugged appearance he was a few years younger than her. Not that she was excusing his outlandish behavior with his age.

“You’re back early…” Kaoru muttered, the man still holding a neatly wrapped black box in his hands. “I guess this makes things easier for me.”

(Your name)’s eyes were wide when he tried handing her the gift. She took notice of the intricately tied knots around the box. What on earth was this man insinuating?

“I think you’d look lovely in red and black…” Kaoru whispered, his dark eyes admiring her facial expressions.

“I really cannot accept these-“ Kaoru put a finger up to her lips and hushed her.

“Shh. It’s okay. I know you want me as much as I want you…” Kaoru pressed a chaste kiss to the shell of her ear, causing (your name) to involuntarily shudder. He was in her bubble and it disgusted her.

(Your name) put her hand over his mouth and attempted to push him back. Instead her palms were met with a kiss from his large lips.

Kaoru easily swatted her hand away and swooped her into his arms. His lips on her cheek now.

“If you wanted me to kiss you, you could have just said so…” Kaoru chuckled at her attempts to get away from him. She felt like a kitten trying to defend itself from a lion. He made her feel so small and helpless…

“Stop it-“ His lips silenced hers in a swift kiss. His tongue prying her mouth open with ease, the pink muscle easily swallowing hers whole. This was no kiss… this was an assertion of dominance. Kaoru was letting her know how useless it was to resist him. To reject him. To escape him.

A string of saliva connected the two, his obsidian eyes hazy with lust. The yakuza leader leaning forward to lick up the saliva string from her lips.

“You taste so good.” Kaoru whispered as he peppered her face with more kisses. “I just want to devour you whole so no one else can ever taste you…”

Kaoru reluctantly pulled away, a smile now on his usually stoic face. “I’ll see you around my dear… next time I’ll bring a better gift. One that will be sure to wow you. I’ll see you around, dear.”

The moment he left, her knees finally gave out from under her. (Your name)’s strength completely left her as the waterworks began to come. She felt so hopeless… getting away from him was hopeless.

There was not a doubt in her mind that Kaoru would one day swallow her whole. And she was even certain that it would be in the near future.

There was something seriously wrong with that man… he must’ve been hit in the head too many times to truly believe that the way he was behaving towards was normal.

.

.

.

Kizaki noticed Kaoru’s sudden change in behavior. His boss would buy giant bouquets of roses, expensive jewelry, and clothes from the latest designers. It didn’t take long for Kizaki to figure out that Kaoru had fallen in love.

Kizaki was thrilled to know that his boss had fallen for someone… his boss deserved to be happy after all these years of solitude and rejection.

Kaoru had been increasing his work as of late, which kept him from seeing his girlfriend as much but she was understanding… Kizaki loved (your name) so much. He couldn’t have picked a more perfect partner for him.

Lately she seemed a bit on edge so Kizaki decided to drop by after his latest errand for Kaoru. Kaoru seemed a bit agitated that Kizaki didn’t want to work longer, but he relented.

Kaoru told Kizaki he’d be collecting his bride soon, but Kizaki wasn’t quite sure what his boss meant by that. His boss barely has been seeing his recent beau, how could marriage be on the line?

It was when Kizaki arrived to (your name)’s home that he realized what was truly going on with his boss. The familiar gifts all sitting precariously on her dining room table unopened. Her eyes red and puffy and her voice hoarse from crying.

“He won’t stop…” Her voice was barely above a whisper but Kizaki heard her. The reality was still sinking into him. This had to be a sick joke… a prank. Kaoru couldn’t possibly be in love with (your name)…

Kizaki knew the truth no matter how much he wanted to ignore it. Kaoru wasn’t a man who joked around, he was always serious. And these gifts were proof that he was serious about (your name).

“He was at the cemetery when I was there and he… he just looked so sad.” (Your name) choked out the words, her hands tightly gripping her arms. “I just hugged him was all and now he won’t leave me alone… why won’t he leave me alone, Kizaki?”

Kizaki couldn’t muster a response… yet his actions provided her the comfort she desired. His arms wrapped around her in a gentle embrace. His chai tea scent offering her solace.

“We’ll figure it out, okay?” Kizaki pulled away and held her face in his hands. His dark eyes softening at her face. “I won’t let you be subjected to this. I love you.”

(Your name) nodded her head and pressed her lips against her boyfriend’s. Kizaki leaning his forehead against hers.

“We’ll get through this together, darling.”

.

.

.

Kaoru marveled at the photos he had a photographer take of (your name). A giant professional portrait of her now hanging in his office. He wanted more of her… but for now he would settle for this temporary fix to his addiction.

Kaoru sighed dreamily as his hands flipped through each photo fondly. She was so beautiful… and so kind…

Kaoru’s behavior was becoming more and more concerning to his peers but they didn’t dare pipe up in fear of him lashing out.

No one wanted to end up on his bad side or else their face would end up as an article in the daily paper… Kaoru was not a man anyone wanted to mess with and especially not to stand up to.

.

.

.

Kizaki flinched when Kaoru threw his desk across the room. The wood splintering under the force of his throw and various papers scattered across the room.

Kaoru wasn’t handling the news well… that Kizaki wanted to marry his girlfriend of almost a year and that he wasn’t going to accept payment for her hand.

“I’m offering you one million yen.” Kaoru murmurs under his breath. “Do you want more money? Just name your price and I’ll pay it-“

“Boss… you can’t buy love-“ a chair was then thrown over Kizaki’s head. The older man sighing at Kaoru’s tantrum. Perhaps Kizaki was reaping what he’s sown by spoiling Kaoru for all these years.

“You said if there’s anything I want from you, you’d give it to me…” Kaoru whispered, his large form looming over Kizaki. “And I want (your name).”

“Boss-“ Kizaki winced when Kaoru pinched the doors frame by Kizaki’s head apart in by inch. It was a warning of what extremes Kaoru was willing to go to to get what he desired.

“She’s my soulmate, Kizaki. My mother sent her to me…”

“But she doesn’t love you-“

“I’m sure in time she will… she’ll love me with time.” Kizaki felt a chill run down his spine at the look in Kaoru’s eyes. He’s lost it… Hanayama Kaoru has officially lost it.

If Kizaki has talked to him more would he have ended up a better man? If he had paid more attention to Kaoru’s silent cries for help, would it have made a difference? No… Kaoru was too far gone to reason with.

It didn’t matter what Kizaki said or did, Kaoru was going to have his way.

Because what the boss wanted… the boss got.

.

.

.

“Marry me.” Kaoru got down on one knee in front of (your name) at the front of her door. His men behind him to prevent her from running. “Marry me and I swear I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world.”

(Your name) was speechless. Kaoru was undeterred from her lack of response and her gentle rejections. This man was not going to take no as an answer…

“Kaoru… I-“ Kaoru stood up and slipped the extravagant ring, that somehow fit perfectly, on her ring finger.

“It would be wise to accept me, lest you want something horrible to happen to Kizaki.” Now he was resorting to threats and force to get what he wants… how lovely. He was smart to exploit her weaknesses, she’d give him that.

(Your name) held his hand and leaned her head into his chest. If he wanted her to play pretend then she was willing to. Anything to prevent Kizaki from being harmed.

Kaoru softly smiled at her submission. He knew she’d see things his way… that’s what soul mates did…

.

.

.

Being forced to marry your lover’s boss was not something (your name) ever thought she’d be doing but here she was…

She was dressed to the nines in an elegant white dress that felt much like that of pretty wrapping paper than an article of clothing. Her wrists tied expertly together with a pristine white silk ribbon around her bouquet of roses.

The aromatic scent of the flowers she once admired mocking her for her misfortune. If she hadn’t loved the flower of love so much, would she be in this situation? Or would she be getting married to the love of her life, Kizaki, instead?

(Your name) sighed, pulling her bound wrists up to her chest in an attempt to comfort herself. Kizaki wasn’t powerful enough to do anything to convince his boss that this was wrong… and Kaoru made sure to threaten her into marrying him. Marry him or Kizaki will die. Of course she chose the first option… she’d do anything for Kizaki.

Two armed guards came in to escort her to her wedding. She obediently went with them. It’s not like she had a choice in this matter. She didn’t even get to pick her dress or the venue. This was all an orchestration of Kaoru’s ‘devotion’ to her.

The man was a control freak with mommy issues. Kaoru was unhinged but in a classy way. At least she’s be wined and dined while he goes on some delusional rant of her being his soulmate.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Imagine that it’s Kizaki at the alter and don’t make a scene.

And for awhile, it worked. She pretended it was Kizaki she was saying her vows to. That it was Kizaki who hungrily pressed his lips against hers. That it was Kizaki who swung her over his shoulders like a heathen- there was no pretending that this was Kizaki. Kizaki would never treat her so savagely, so barbarically. There was no gentleness in Kaoru’s haste to own her.

(Your name) knew in Kaoru’s eyes, she was a possession. A trophy. A plunder.

Especially with the way Kaoru threw her onto the bed like a ragdoll for their wedding night. His hands excitedly untying the knots he had made prior to her wrists.

“I can’t wait any longer… I’ve gotten you such a wonderful wedding gift too…”

That’s when Kaoru opened the closet door to reveal Kizaki bound and gagged to a chair. The poor man in perfect view of the bed. He wouldn’t… Kaoru couldn’t possibly think of doing something so cruel.

And that’s when he began to tear off his clothes like a child opening a gift on Christmas Day. The ripping of fabric and snapping of buttons echoing throughout the room. This was happening… this was going to happen.

Kizaki screamed through the gag, tears falling from his eyes. (Your name) squeezing her eyes shut when he removed the last article of his clothing. The bed dipped under his weight as his body joined her on her cushioned cage.

“My darling wife… tonight I’m going to show you how much a man can truly love a woman.”

(Your name) nodded her head to try to shake away her tears. She knew there was nothing she could do against this mountain of a man. Not if she wanted her beloved to live. So she would pretend again… she would pretend the man who was ripping apart her dress was Kizaki. That it was Kizaki’s hands grasping at her flesh so excitedly.

Her eyes never left Kizaki’s as Kaoru’s lips began to suck and bite down her neck and onto her chest. His hand guiding one of hers to his chest.

“Can you feel how my heart beats for you?” Kaoru asked softly like he was your lover instead. Like he wasn’t the man who threatened to kill the man you loved for you to accept him. “You make me feel so alive…”

(Your name) shivered when Kaoru slowly dragged her hand lower and lower. His dark eyes not leaving her eyes once during this act.

His breath hitching when the soft skin of her hands lightly grazed his hip.

“Please… pay attention to me.” Kaoru whispered, his lips pressed firmly in the junction of her neck. “Look at me and only me… look at your husband. At your life partner…”

It wasn’t long before she laid out completely bare in front of him. His lips salaciously covering every inch of her skin that he could. Tiny red marks in their wake from him nipping at her with his teeth.

He still held her hand in his as he stroked himself with her soft palms. His size was impressive… intimidating even. She wasn’t sure if he was going to fit in her.

Kaoru has her hand guide him to her entrance. The fat, bulbous tip kissing her lips gently as he lined himself up.

“You’re so beautiful… my beautiful wife.” Her head is thrown back when he begins his assault. Kaoru sheathing himself deep inside of her in one thrust. His sheer size causing her stomach to bulge. He was so big… bigger than any man she’s ever been with before.

“Oh god!” She cried out, her nails leaving angry red crescents on Kaoru’s back, the man smirking at her reaction. She’s never been stretched like this… never had someone make her feel… “so full…”

Kaoru smirked, his hips slowly rocking into hers. “I’m not even all the way in yet and you’re already a mess under me… what a perfect wife you are.”

Kizaki could only watch as Kaoru began snapping his hips into (your name)‘s. Her gasps and whines shamefully turning him on. Kizaki felt so ashamed watching her being railed by another man.

(Your name) could feel her eyes roll back when Kaoru threw her legs over his shoulders to go even deeper.

“So tight… so perfect.” Kaoru sung her praises, his hips moving faster as she cried out.

Kaoru moved his hand to push down on the bulge on her stomach, the poor girl coming undone in an instant. Kaoru’s face lighting up.

“You’re mine.” Kaoru chanted like a mantra. This man was insane. Absolutely insane… but she couldn’t deny that she’s never been sexually satisfied like this before. Kaoru knew what he was doing.

When he grabbed her hips and angled her up, she came undone again. A smirk was on his lips the entire time. It disappeared once he noticed her trying to look over at Kizaki again.

“No one’s ever made you feel like this before have they?” Kaoru asked, a finger reaching across and harshly pinching her nipple. A strangle cry escaping her lips, her eyes now on Kaoru again. “There we go. Look at me. Look at your husband.”

Kaoru firmly pressed his lips to hers as his hips began to stutter. Insane ramblings and sweet nothings were mixed together to form gibberish out of his mouth. The only word that she could understand from him was “mine.”

She felt his muscles go taut and she watched as he bit his lip to try to silence the loud groan that escaped his lips. Kaoru pulled out just in time, his sticky essence coating her stomach and collarbone.

Kaoru then slumped on top of her, pressing messy kisses all over her cheeks and jaw.

Her eyes turned over to look at Kizaki who was still crying but the stain between his legs was evident of what had happened… Kizaki had gotten off to watching her be railed by Kaoru…

“My beautiful wife… I promise to take care of you for the rest of our days.” Kaoru fondly mumbled in her ear. “You’re my world.”

(Your name)’s eyes never left Kizaki’s as she drowned out Kaoru. “I love you…” she whispered softly before Kaoru was on top of her again for the next round.

It seems Kaoru wasn’t going to stop until she understood that she was his… until she directed those three words towards her.

“I can’t have you telling another man you love him, dear.” Kaoru chuckled, his lips pressed firmly to hers. “You’re mine.”

[nichuuu]

Yeowooya

Tags: Smut, creampie, facial, handjob, teasing, subby joy, doggy, riding, fluff(?) Word count: 6k++

The clacking of your keyboard filled the empty office. Your eyes throbbed in their sockets, begging you for some sort of rest from your computer screen. The minute hand of the clock was slowly approaching the 12 mark on the clock, it would be 1 am soon. Regardless, you were determined to put in those extra hours and finish this damn proposal. With a sip of some extra strong coffee, you let the caffeine take over your senses. You mindlessly typed away, words appearing on the document faster than your mind could process. 

Your teammates had gone out drinking again. Unlike them, you had a sense of responsibility in you, so you were the one who stayed to finish the last leg of the proposal. While your so-called “teammates” were busy celebrating god knows what, you were slaving away in your space, fingers achy and joints sore. 

“Wow… Hard working as ever…” 

You looked up. A familiar face smiled back at you over the cubicle.

“Not now Soo-young,” You huffed, looking back at your screen. From your peripheral vision, you saw the woman pout. 

“Aw… Why so grumpy?” She teased you. You glared at her. 

“I said: Not now,” You repeated yourself. Joy rolled her eyes.

“Fine…” She sighed. Her head disappeared behind the wall of your prison, re-appearing from the entrance to your cubicle. 

“Is it me? Or does this place get messier and messier each time I visit?” She mused.

“Keep your hands off my shit,” You warned her, eyes not leaving the screen.

“I’ll do what I please, thank you.”

You heard her rummaging through some papers on your desk. You wanted to whip around and just let her have it right there, but you were so close to completing your task. Forcing yourself to stay laser focused, you pushed yourself a little more. Your fingers moved faster, the frequency of the clacking increasing. At some point, you felt Soo-young looking over your shoulder, watching silently as words appeared on screen. Then she went back to poke her nose into the papers on your desk. 

“Damn… This paper was dated 2 years ago!” You heard her mutter. “He really needs to sort his shit out…”

More rustling came from behind you. You were on the final stretch now, just a few more sentences left. You could feel your heart beating faster in excitement as you made your way towards the light at the end of the tunnel.

Alas, you typed out the final word. A rather loud yell of victory left your mouth as you saved your work. You crashed back in your chair, feeling more relieved than you’d ever had before. 

“Oh my god… Never again…” You grimaced, massaging your tired eyes. 

“This all seems like a you problem not gonna lie,” Joy chimed in. You opened your eyes. 

“Joy… Please shut the fuck up,” You requested. In response, she dragged your chair out and spun you in a circle. You yelped, quickly planting your feet down in the ground to stop yourself. God forbid those 4 cups of coffee came out of you.

“You’re done with your work! Stop being a grumpy old fart!” Soo-young reminded you. You sighed. 

“Stop nagging. You remind me of my Eomma,” You told her. She scoffed. 

“Maybe you should take better care of yourself. That way I can stop taking care of you like you’re a little kid,” Joy retorted. You wanted to argue against her statement, but she had a fair point.

“Fair enough,” You relented. 

“That’s what I thought bitch boy,” She sneered playfully. You chuckled.

You weren’t sure how to describe your relationship with Soo-young. You started off as complete strangers to each other, strangers that worked 2 desks away and always seemed to go to the same spot for lunch everyday. One fine day, she sat down next to you in the middle of a meeting—she was half an hour late—and introduced herself to you. You spent the long hours of the meeting entertaining yourselves in hushed, clandestine conversations, stopping only when your boss turned back to face the zombie crowd. At the end, you made yourself a new friend and exchanged numbers with her. 

Months passed. You got closer to Soo-young, close enough to call her what all her friends called her.

“They call me Joy,” She told you one morning over some doughnuts and coffee. 

“Joy?” You mused. She shrugged. 

“Yea… I never really understood why, but the name stuck.”

You would come to understand why with time. She truly lived up to her namesake, her bright, contagious smile and her amusing personality making her a true Joy to be around. You liked her company, it made the office feel like less of a slave plantation. 

Your relationship with her was simple up til Christmas day. She invited you back to her place for a couple of drinks after an office party, and you gladly obliged. A few jokes, some snacks and quite a few glasses of wine later, your clothes were discarded together with Joy’s and you were taking her against the window of her apartment. After your fling with her that night, you two made a mutual agreement: What happened would be a one time thing. You were friends, simple as that.

However, neither of you really kept to the first part of the agreement. It was broken just a few weeks after when Joy pulled you into a storage room and sucked your cock.The she proceeded to take your cock up her pussy, your hand clasped around her mouth to prevent anyone from hearing her moans. You broke the agreement two months later, guiding her away from the poolside party at a friends house, ripping her bikini off her and fucking her senseless in the guest bathroom. Since then, sex with Joy happened almost on a weekly basis—sometimes a monthly basis if you two were really busy. No real feelings had manifested for Joy, and Joy certainly didn't seem interested to enter a relationship with you of all people. Hence, the two of you declared yourselves friends with benefits.

“Why are you still in the office?” You asked Joy, powering off your monitor. Soo-young sighed.

“Had to file my team’s paperwork again…” She lamented. “I really hate these slackers.”

“Same here,” You chuckled bitterly. “I just keep saving their asses over and over again while they go out drinking every other night… Ridiculous if you ask me.”

Joy laughed, clearly sharing a common sentiment. 

“Should’ve just shredded all the papers… Let those fucks rot for all I care,” Joy mused. 

“We’re on the last leg of the proposal submissions… Presentations are tomorrow,”  You reminded her. Joy nodded. 

“Yep… Which is exactly why I plan on calling in sick tomorrow,” She said. You raised an eyebrow. 

“Why?” 

Joy scoffed. 

“We’re the same. We both stay for long hours in the office saving our team’s asses, but we get zero recognition at the end of it all cause it’s a ‘group effort’,” Joy lamented. “I’ve been doing all the work. I want to see how they pitch the proposal without me tomorrow.”

You smirked. 

“You’re more cunning than I thought,” You mused. She winked. 

“I’ve got lots of ideas up here,” She said, tapping her head. “You know, maybe you should call in sick tomorrow too…”

You shook your head. 

“As much as I want to let my team burn to the ground, I don’t see myself doing that,” You told her honestly. Joy groaned.

“Oh my god! You and your morals!” She sighed. “Have a little fun! You certainly seem to be able to put aside your little moral compass when we fuck.”

“But that’s because… Because… Uh…” You struggled to argue. 

“Because what huh?” Joy pressed. “Because you like using my tight little body and ravishing my ass? Is that it?”

She wasn’t exactly wrong, but you didn’t want to let her win just like that. 

“And what if that is the reason? What are you gonna do, Joy?” You challenged her. Joy stared at you for a moment. Her brows furrowed, visibly deep in thought. 

“Alright then,” She finally said after some time. “If that really is the reason… I pitch you an offer.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Let’s hear it.”

Joy leaned against your desk.

“If you call in sick with me tomorrow, I’ll let you fuck me tonight.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“I’m guessing there’s a catch?” You prompted. She grinned. 

“But of course,” She replied. “If you fuck me tonight. You have to come to the beach with me tomorrow.” 

“That sounds like more of a win for me,” You told her bluntly. 

“It’s a win-win for the two of us,” She explained. “You get to fuck me and go to the beach—I get to screw over both our teams, get railed and go to the beach. Simple.”

You nodded your head thoughtfully, pretending to think it over. In truth, you had your answer ready for quite some time. 

“So?” Joy urged. 

“I accept your offer,” You answered. Joy grinned. 

“Perfect,” She said. “Now get your shit and let’s go. All this talk about sex has me aching for your cock.”

As she turned to leave, you grabbed her by the wrist. 

“Who said anything about leaving?” You asked. Joy raised an eyebrow.

“My my… Getting mischievous aren’t you?” She teased. 

“Well… Like you said: I can set aside my moral compass when it comes to fucking you.”

Joy smiled that lustful smile. 

“So are you just gonna keep talking? Or are you gonna kiss me?” 

In a flash, you were up on your feet, her tight frame in your arms and her lips on yours. Her hands touched your chest, your own hands on her ass.

“I know the pin to my boss’s office…” Joy whispered. “She has a couch in there.”

A sly grin made its way up your face. 

“Then what are we waiting for?” You asked. Joy giggled. She grabbed your hand, hurriedly pulling you towards the direction of her boss’s office.

Looks like your night was far from over.

You ran to that office with Joy like it was an emergency. Once there, Joy hurriedly punched in the numbers. A series of beeps, a green flash and Joy threw open the door, pulling you in with her.

“Any cameras in here?” You asked her. 

“Nope,” She replied confidently. “Funnily enough, the CEO turns off all the cameras at night to save money on electricity. That’s why we have so many security guards.”

“That sounds oddly convenient,” You mused.

You found a light switch and flipped it on. The room filled with warm light, revealing the spacious office that was at your disposal.

“Christ. Just shut up and undress me already,” Joy huffed. She moved to unbutton your shirt, and you did the same. The lacy fabric of her bra slowly became more and more visible with each button that came undone, heightening your excitement and making your cock twitch wildly in your pants.

Joy tugged at your pants.

“Get this off,” She whispered. You gladly undid your belt and unbuckled your trousers. They fell with a ‘thump’, pooling around your ankles and exposing the very apparent bulge in your underwear. Joy got her skirt off, making quick work of the article of clothing and tossing it to a side.

“Come here,” She said. She captured your lips, hands hooking the waistband of your underwear and pulling it down. You jolted a little when you felt the coolness of her palm against your shaft, but quickly adjusted, relishing the small sparks of pleasure when she stroked your length slowly. Your lips parted with hers, your eyes drinking in Joy’s curvaceous body.

“The usual?” She asked, toying with the tip of your cock.

“You pick,” You told her. There was a gleam in Joy’s eyes as she placed a finger on her lips, deep in thought. 

“I wanna ride you,” She decided. You grinned.

“Sure thing, but I want to eat you out first.”

Joy let go of your cock.

“Then fucking eat me.”

She guided you over to her boss’s desk. She propped herself up on it, spreading her luscious thighs apart and exposing a wet patch on her still-clothed pussy. It would only be a matter of time before her underwear would be discarded as well.

You didn’t need to be invited over. You were on your knees in a flash, hands pushing Joy’s spreading Joy’s legs a little further. Your index finger pressed against the damp spot on her panties, making her gasp when you started tracing the outline of her pussy with your fingertip.

“D-Don’t tease me like that…” She whispered. 

“I like to play with my food a little,” You smirked.  She whined, her voice full of need and desire.  She squirmed atop the desk, eyes squeezed shut and head tilted back. She made no further attempts to cease your teasing. 

When you eventually decided you had Joy riled up, you pulled the thin fabric of her panties off. Her pink folds glistened under the light. You licked your lips, mouth watering at the sight. 

You planted a kiss on her left thigh, then her right. Joy’s legs trembled in anticipation. 

“Look at me Joy,” You ordered. She bit down on her lower lip, eyes locking onto you. Maintaining eye-contact, you leaned forward and placed your mouth on her soaking pussy. 

You’d never forget her reaction when your tongue darted out, sweeping across her slick with the tip of your tongue. Her head whipped back, jet black hair sent flying behind her as she let a sharp sigh escape her lips. You quickly responded with another lick, your tongue tracing a path from the bottom of her slit to the top of her opening. Her juices accumulated on your tongue, her taste lingering in your mouth. 

Joy’s hand found your head. She gripped a fistfull of your hair, your name spilling out from her half-parted lips. Her thighs clamped around your head, the flesh drowning out the whir of the air conditioning — a warm, pillowy heaven. Her moans resonated through her body, her thighs vibrating slightly with each gasp or sigh. Your tongue attacked her folds, the flat side of your tongue brushing up Joy’s womanhood in slow, long strokes. The tip of your tongue flicked the swollen nub at the top of her pussy, playing with her clit to your heart's content as you made Joy writhe with pleasure.  Nails dug into the back of your skull. Her Thighs clamped down harder around your ears. Her juices leaked out of her cunt, pooling in your mouth as Joy pushed your head into her, forcing your tongue as deep as it could go. 

Her thighs shifted down slightly, gripping your cheeks in their grasps instead. 

“Fuck… Keep going… Keep eating me…” She pleaded, face twisting in pleasure. There was really no need for that request. You never intended on stopping till she came. 

It didn’t take long for you to get close to accomplishing your mission. When her thighs tensed around you, you increased the intensity of your assault. Joy’s breaths became shallower, the intervals between her moans decreasing with each one that left her mouth.

“Oh god… I’m cumming… I’m fucking—”

She never finished her sentence. Her throat strained visibly, her vocal chords tensing as the pleasure struck her like a bolt of thunder. In a sweaty, beautiful disarray, Joy orgasmed. Her lips formed a round “o”, her nails threatening to puncture your scalp. You lapped up the juices that gushed out from her entrance, drinking in as much of her as you could. You fell some of her sweet fluids dribbling down your chin, but you’d handle that later. 

You held her body down by her thighs as she shook and quivered on the table. Eventually she settled down enough. She brought her left hand—which had been digging into your scalp—-down to your cheek. She lifted up your head softly. 

“Couch… Let me fuck myself on your cock.”

You smiled. 

“With pleasure Joy.”

You stood up. Grasping her hand, you helped her off the table and onto the couch. Your cock throbbed violently in her hand as she gripped it firmly, guiding the tip of your shaft to her entrance.  Without a word of warning, she dropped down, sheathing you inside of her tight little cunt. Your eyes bulged, a strained sigh leaving your throat. Your hands found her full ass, gripping it tightly. 

“Fuck… I always forget how big you are…” She breathed, slowly grinding against you to adjust to your size. 

“But you never forget how much you love bouncing on my cock, do you Joy?” You asked. 

“Of course…” She replied, eyes glazed with pleasure. “I will never forget how good it feels to be filled with your cock.”

Her hips stopped moving. She shifted on top of you, her hands resting on your shoulders. She kissed you tenderly, tasting herself on your lips. 

“I’m gonna fuck myself so hard on this big cock,” She whispered. 

“Go ahead Joy,” You said. “Show me how you ride this cock.”

When she began bouncing on you, the sensation of her walls gripping and sliding up and down your shaft almost made you black out. You grounded yourself in reality with the aid of the tender flesh of Joy’s butt, your teeth clenching as she impaled herself on you relentlessly. Her pussy pulsed around your shaft, each beat matching her pace. 

“So… Fucking… Big…” She gasped. “I’m… Addicted… To your big cock.”

Her voice was raspy, filled with desire. She wanted this. She needed this.

You smirk, eyes glued to her breasts that were bouncing with each impact she made against you. She caught you looking, taking the hint and leaning forward to give you better access to her assets.

“Thank you,” You smirked through the overwhelming pleasure. You dived in, licking up the sweat between her breasts before shifting slightly to take one of her tits into your mouth. Joy’s walls seemed to clench down tighter around you, responding to the attention you gave her breasts. She moaned louder, riding you faster as your tongue swirled around her taut nipple. 

“Fuck yes, suck my tits. Suck my fucking tits!” She screamed. Her cheeks were flushed, her body glistening with sweat as she rode you fiercely. She wasn’t letting up on her pace, fucking herself harshly on your cock just as she promised. She seemed to be sucking you deeper and deeper between her folds. Each bottom of her strokes squeezed you deliciously, partially forcing you out of her pussy when she rose. The motion repeated, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

You could feel the cushion of the couch compressing under your combined weight, Joy’s frantic bounces onto you making it feel like you were on a trampoline. She moaned right into your ear, making your hair stand as her scent filled your nose. Joy overwhelmed your senses. You were going insane. 

She continued riding you, thighs clamped around your waist and her arms wrapped around your neck. You released her tit from your mouth, mounds of flesh glistening in a mixture of sweat and saliva. Joy’s eyes, half-lidded in pleasure, stared into yours. The intimacy was sublime. 

As much as you would have enjoyed letting Joy bounce on your cock forever, you had your limits.

“Joy…” You grunted. She understood. 

She stopped riding you, quickly dismounting you and sitting down next to you. Her hand gripped your shaft, slick with her juices, jerking you off frantically. 

“Quick, choose a place to cum,” She urged you. 

It takes effort. But through your gritted teeth, you manage a reply. 

“Y-Your face. Let me cover your face.”

Joy was on her knees in an instant. Her hand never left your shaft, pumping away with gusto as she closed her eyes. Her free hand fondled your balls, gently massaging your cum up your shaft as your toes curled into the carpet. With a grunt, you let loose.

Rope after rope of your hot seed shoots out of your cock. Joy’s face is covered almost instantly, your load painting her features white in your semen. She squeezed your cock, forcing every last drop of cum out of you. Your body went rigid in overwhelming bliss, your senses numbed by the force of your tidal wave of an orgasm. 

Joy waited patiently for the last drop of your cum to ooze out of your twitching shaft. Her tongue emerged from her cum stained lips, licking up your seed that was around her mouth before cleaning you up thoroughly. You mustered the strength to rest a hand on her head, gently stroking her sweat-matted hair as she worked on your cock, helping you to gently ease down from your high.

“That… Was better than I imagined,” You mused. 

“Ever since when has sex with me been a disappointment?” Joy grinned, gathering bits of your load off her face with her fingers. 

“That’s true…” You mused. Joy giggled, slapping your cock against her face. 

Joy waited for you to regain some strength, content with sucking your cock in the meantime. 

When you could finally stand, you assisted Joy in cleaning up the mess you made on her face. When all was said and done, you and Joy made sure that there were no odd stains left anywhere in her boss’s office. Once you were both sure that your deed would not be discovered, you hastily put your clothes back on. You turned off the lights and slipped out of the office. 

“That was fun,” Joy giggled, hugging your arm. “Now… I expect you to hold up your end of our deal.”

You chuckled.

“It would be rude of me not to after what we did,” You mused. Joy smiled. 

“Good… Then it looks like we’ll be seeing each other tomorrow.”

~~~~~~

The sun shined intensely on your face. Joy’s car cruised down the road, the wind catching her flowy black hair and making her sundress flap a little in the wind. 

“Quit staring at my tits will you?” She remarked. 

“You can’t blame me,” You defended yourself. She rolled her eyes.

“Right. I just look too good in this don’t I?” 

You chuckled, your eyes turning back to the road. The sand and the blue waters were visible now, you were close. 

“Take the exit just up ahead,” You instructed her. 

“I know what I’m doing. You don’t need to backseat drive,” She scoffed. 

“All right… You’re the boss…”

Joy smirked, pushing up her sunglasses a little. When the exit came, you were amused when Joy’s car sped right past it. 

“I thought you said you knew what you were doing?” You questioned.

“I do,” She answered confidently. 

“Then why the fuck did you miss the exit?”

“Cause we’re going somewhere else.”

You raised an eyebrow. 

“I thought you said we were going to the beach?” 

Joy smiled innocently. 

“We are, just a different part,” She answered. You gave her a look.

“What?” She asked. “Why are you giving me that side eye?”

You folded your arms. 

“Why are you suddenly changing our destination?” You interrogated. Joy’s lips formed a thin line.

“Relax. I’m not kidnapping you or anything,” She reasoned with you. “Just calm your ass down. We’re almost there.”

You were a little sceptical, but you knew better than to doubt Soo-young. But you still had the urge to have a final say.

“Always breaking agreements,” You muttered. 

“I heard that,” She told you.

“You were supposed to,” You replied. Joy clicked her tongue in annoyance, but you recognised that familiar cheeky glint in those eyes. She was having fun, so were you.

Joy drove for another 10 minutes or so. A roof of a structure slowly emerged, a stand alone seaside chalet revealing itself. 

“We’ll get the beach to ourselves here,” Joy grinned. You chuckled.

“You’re full of surprises,” You remarked.

“And you’re full of shit,” She shot back. 

Joy’s car pulled up to the gate of the chalet. She rustled through her tote bag for a bit before retrieving a remote. With a click of a button, the gate rolled open. Joy drove in, parking the car just outside the entrance to the small house.

“We came here on a team retreat a year ago, I figured out how to book it,” She told you.

“I didn’t ask,” You said.

“But you’re bound to ask at some point,” She fired back. 

She wasn’t wrong. 

You helped Joy to unload the things in her trunk, amused to find that she had brought beverages and meat to grill. You quickly deduced that this would be an overnight stay, realising why she asked you to pack an extra set of clothes. 

You entered the chalet with Joy. While Joy put your things in the room, you busied yourself with storing the meat and drinks in the fridge. It was quick work for the both of you. 

“Look around for a bit, I need to change,” Joy told you.

“Can I watch?” You asked. She slapped your arm.

“Fucking pervert.” 

You chuckled. Joy giggled a little before retreating back to the room and shutting the door behind her. You did as suggested, exploring the place a little while you waited for Joy to emerge out of the room. It was a cosy little spot, complete with an outdoor dining area that offered a breathtaking view of the sea. The view was great, but something told you that the view of Joy’s naked body would’ve been better. 

“All right. Let’s head to the water.”

You turned. Your mouth dried up. 

Joy sauntered towards you, towel in hand. Her wide hips swaying in those skimpy shorts that cut off perfectly around the fullness of those thighs, perky breasts bulging out behind that tight neon-yellow top on her body, bending the words “Life Is Sweet” around her ample tits. Her hair was tied up into a high ponytail, a cap sitting on her head to block out the harsh sun.

“What?” She prompted, giving you a look. 

“N-Nothing,” You quickly replied, shaking off the dirty thoughts in your head. “Let’s go…”

You slid the door open and walked out into the deck. You could hear Joy’s pattering footsteps behind you, and you had to resist the urge to look back and get another good look at her. You’d seen her in all sorts of clothing. Suits, dresses, mini skirts, you’d seen it all. Hell you’d even seen her naked countless times. 

But this? This felt so different for some odd reason. 

Your feet hit the sand, the grains crushing under your feet as you moved towards the water. 

“Wait,” Joy called out from behind. You turned—a little too enthusiastically—and saw her holding out a bottle.

“Put on some sunscreen,” She told you, walking up to you and uncapping the bottle. You held out a palm, and Joy pumped a generous dollop into your hand. You thanked her with a smile before applying the lotion onto your body. Joy busied herself with her own body, the Sunscreen making her skin gleam slightly before she rubbed the lotion into her skin completely. 

“Could you help me with my back?” She requested, turning her back to you. You quickly took a moment to soak in the shape of her ass in those shorts before walking over and taking the sunscreen from her. You pushed down, pumping some of the lotion onto your hand before applying it on Joy’s back. Your hands cheekily slipped under the bits of her top that clung to her back, earning a playful gaze from the woman. You took your time to rub the lotion into her smooth skin, savouring the curves of her body from behind. 

When you decided that you were satisfied, you stepped away. 

“All done,” You smiled innocently.

“You sure took your time. Had a good look?” She teased, catching you red handed. You smirked. 

“Definitely,” You replied. She smiled and pinched your cheek.

“What a cheeky boy…” 

Joy laid down a mat under the shade of a tree, far enough from the tide but close enough for you to quickly access the water. You walked towards the azure blue sea with Joy, wet sand squishing under your feet as you went deeper and deeper. The two of you didn’t go in too deep, stopping when the water hit your knees. A wind had picked up, and Joy stretched out her arms.

“Ah… This is nice…” She sighed. 

“Mhm,” You hummed in agreement. A smile made its way onto the girl’s face. 

“I wonder how our teams are fairing…” She giggled. 

“Not too well probably,” You answered truthfully. 

“Ah well… We all get what we deserve…” She sighed. “And we deserve this nice bit of relaxation…”

You nodded, silently agreeing with her. There was a moment of silence between you two as you both stood there, letting the water sweep around your knees. The sea water left a pleasant tingle on your skin, giving you some sort of a respite to the heat of the summer. 

Joy moved closer to you.  

“You know what’s nice about this?” She whispered. 

“What?” You asked. She stretched out her arm towards the shore.

“We have this segment of the beach to ourselves.” 

She moved in a little more, your bare arms touching each other. You caught her gaze. She smiled. 

“Say…” She began, gingerly reaching for your hand. “I wanted to ask you a question.”

“What is it?” You asked. Joy didn’t reply, opting to silently guide your hand onto her toned tummy. Your knuckles slipped past the waistband of her shorts, your fingers coming into contact with something warm and wet. Experience allowed you to deduce what exactly was against your fingertips.

“Ever thought about fucking on the beach?”Joy grinned. 

“Nope… But I’m down to try,” You replied.

As quickly as you had entered the water with her, you found yourselves back up on shore, tongues in mouths and hands on each other. Joy’s mat served as a barrier between you and the sand, providing a perfect place for you to lay Soo-young down and slip your digits into her slick folds. A moan escaped her lips, her front teeth becoming visible as she bit down on her fingernail. You pumped your hand, working your fingers deeper into her slick cunt, your lips peppering her neck with kisses and light nibbles. A stream of moans and whines flowed from Joy’s mouth.

“Oh yes… Right there baby… R-Right fucking there,” She hissed, hips jerking  when your fingers curled up and made contact with the soft flesh on the roof of her walls. 

“You’re so wet Joy,” You muttered. 

“I’m always wet for you…” She replied. 

You smiled. 

“You're always such a little slut for me, aren’t you?” You whispered into her ear. She nodded. 

“O-Oh… Y-Yes… I’m your little slut…” 

Your fingers worked faster, pumping harder and deeper into her warmth. She gasped sharply, her back arching deliciously. You bent her to your will, a dark part of you finding pleasure in making her yours.

“Oh shit… Don’t stop… Please don’t stop,” She whined, her left hand kneading her left breast while her right clung to your shirt sleeve for dear life. She let her sighs and gasps tumble out of her mouth, not bothering to control her volume as her hips start grinding against your hand. Her eyes filled with need, her tight body quivering and thrashing against your hand as she moaned your name into your ear. With each entrance of your fingers, a delightfully erotic squelch filled your ears, mixing with Joy’s filthy exclamations of pleasure. Your lips found Joy’s, muffling her cries with your mouth. Her thighs clamped down tightly around your hand, keeping you deep inside of her while you drove her wild. 

Your left hand found one of her taut nipples, and you gave the nub a pinch. Joy moaned into your mouth, her right hand shifting up and gripping your forearm. You released her lips, allowing you to hear those cute mewls and gasps clearly. Her moaning increased in volume, her eyes widening. 

“Fuck… I-I’m gonna cum,” She said, nails digging into your arm. “Keep fucking me with your fingers! I’m fucking… Oh!” 

Joy came, tight frame shaking violently. Her mouth opened  in a silent scream, pupils dilating further as her thighs quivered around your hand. Her back arched further, her breasts proudly protruding on her quivering chest. Your hand slowed, gradually halting to give Joy a breather through her high.  Her body crashes down on the mat mere minutes later, heaving with each breath Joy took as the bliss faded. Sweat beaded on her brow, her skin glistening deliciously under the light. 

Her weak left hand tilted your chin towards her. She finds your lips once more, holding you in a sweet kiss for a little before releasing you. 

“Fuck me however you want… Just promise that you’ll cum in me this time.”

You smiled. 

“Of course Joy…” You affirmed her. “Let’s get you undressed.”

Her soaking wet shorts were off in a flash, her skin-tight top following closely behind. Joy undid the strings of your shorts, pulling them down to let your hard cock spring out. Her hand gripped your shaft, slender fingers squeezing your member gently as she stroked you lazily. 

“The usual?” She asked. You nodded, feeling a little bit of Deja vu. Joy’s hand left your cock, planting itself behind her. She flipped herself belly down, her big juicy ass raised and presented for you. You pulled your shorts down past your knees before positioning yourself behind Joy. She looked back at you, that devilish smile on her face as you slapped your cock against her ass.  

“Put it in…” She whispered. 

“Patience, Joy… You’re always in such a hurry,” You  told her, taking your time to line yourself up with her slit. While you were aching to enter her, a dark part in you took pleasure in making the girl beg. 

“Please… Please just put in already…” She implored, a wanton expression wiping the smile off her face. You finally relented. 

You pushed your tip in, parting her flushed, pink lips as the rest of your cock slid into Joy’s cunt with ease. You groaned, hands gripping the full cheeks of her ass as you hilted yourself in her tight walls. It was pure bliss.

“God… You’re always so fucking tight Joy,” You hissed, spanking her with an open palm. She yelped in delight, ass rippling under the impact. 

“Fuck me…” She gasped. She was so full of need and lust. 

You did as she requested. Your hips popped back, your shaft redrawing from her slick momentarily before spearheading right back into the depths of her cunt. You gave her no time to adjust, quickly establishing a rough, frantic, carnal pace and taking her pussy. Joy was gasping, crying, screaming in delight, her ass rippling hypnotically with each deep stroke you made. Her little body rocked, the warmth of her ass cushioning your crotch with each entrance. Her hands dug into the sand, fingers buried deep in the grains to hold her steady as you pounded her tight little pussy mercilessly. Her walls sucked you in, pulling you deeper and deeper into her till you could feel the warmth of her core on the tip of your cock. Jolts of pleasure shot up your spine and through your nervous system. 

Joy lowered her upper body to the ground, deepening the angle of your frantic thrusts into her. You reached down, hands quickly locating her swaying breasts and cupping them. You played with her soft ample mounds, relishing Joy’s curves in your palms. 

“Oh fuck Joy… You take my cock so well,” You grunted. 

“My body… Was made to take your cock,” She hissed back. “This pussy is yours. Take my slutty little pussy like it’s yours.”

She made eye contact with you for the nth time. The look in her eyes made something snap inside of you. 

Your palm left her tits, pushing down on the small of Joy’s back. Her face dug into the mat, her thighs spreading even further to take you deeper into her folds. She screams your name, begging you for more. 

You doubled down on Joy, your slick shaft emerging and disappearing between her slick pussy lips.  Her hand reached between your bodies, rubbing frantically at her clit. 

“Oh fuck fuck fuck! Fuck me fuck me fuck me!” She cried, sounding breathless. She was enjoying every last second of her treatment. The waves crashed against the shore, doing little to mask the screams of pleasure escaping from Joy’s lips.

You fucked Joy into the sand, taking control of her body as you bent over her to keep her pinned between you and the mat. 

“How does it feel Joy?” You growled into her ear. “How does it feel being fucked like a dirty little slut?”

Joy struggled to answer.

“It feels… So… Fucking good…”

The pure filth coming from her mouth spurred you, making you fuck her faster, harder… You wanted to fuck her senseless like you always did. Joy loved taking your cock till her mind went blank. Be it in the office, in between her own sheets or even in a car, she relished the feel of your cock stretching her out and fucking her till her brain rattled in her skull. There was no such thing as “Slow” when you were with Joy. 

Your hand gripped her ponytail, yanking back hard till her head was looking straight ahead. 

“I’m gonna fucking cum Joy,” You hissed. “I’m gonna fucking cum inside your tight little cunt.”

“Yes yes yes… Do it! Fill me! I need it so fucking bad!” She grunted. Your hand leaves her hair, both hands gripping her wide hips roughly as you give Joy all you had.

Your orgasm almost made you black out. You buried yourself as deep as you could inside Joy’s body, struggling to keep your upper body upright. Your cock spasmed and pulsated, your body quivering and shaking — absolutely overwhelmed by pleasure. Joy’s sighs drowned out the noises around you, a dull ring in your ears as you pumped your load into her awaiting cunt. It takes an eternity for you to recover. When you do, Joy was quick to request for more. 

“I want it in my ass next…” She told you. Through your sweat-matted hair, you managed a grin. 

“Coming right up.”

You wouldn’t be going back into the water for quite some time.

~~~~

A cool evening breeze ruffled your hair, rustling the leaves of trees behind you as you sat on the deck with Joy. Her head rested on your shoulder, mouth busy chewing on the piece of meat in her mouth. There was a pleasant silence between the two of you, both of you silently listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. 

“Feed me another piece,” Joy requested. You gladly obliged, poking a slice of grilled meat with your fork and bringing it to her mouth. She bit it off your fork, chewing happily. 

“You know… I think we should do this more often,” She told you between bites. 

“There’s a limit on the number of times we can call in sick Joy,” You reminded her.

“Ah who fucking cares,” She said. “We can probably find other loopholes in the system.”

You chuckled. 

“I guess so,” You mused. She tapped your hand. You fed her another piece of meat.

A deep sigh left her mouth. You risked a glance down, noting the look of content on her face as she stared out into the sea. The sun was setting just past the horizon, an orangish-golden glow illuminating the surface of the water. The sunlight blended with the deep blue water of the sea, the sun reflected on the surface of the water. It was… Oddly romantic.

“Thanks for coming out with me today,” Joy said. “I really appreciate it.” 

You smiled. 

“No problem Soo-young,” You replied. “I needed this break either way.”

Joy giggled. 

“I know. So did I.”

“So was I always meant to be invited?” You questioned. 

“Hm… Maybe.”

You feigned offence. Joy laughed and smacked your arm playfully.

“Well… Intended or not, I’m glad you asked me to come,” You told her sincerely. Her expression softened. 

“That’s great… Would’ve been a waste if you didn’t,” She replied. 

Your eyes met hers. For once, past the cheekiness, past the lust and past the mischief, you saw a faint glimmer of… something behind her gaze. Something stirred in you.

You looked back out towards the sea, feeling an odd sensation on your chest. You didn’t know what it was, but it made you hold Joy a little closer.

Maybe… Just maybe… You felt like the two of you were more than just friends with benefits.

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

Hello. Hope you enjoyed this one. I had a little bit of a Joy overdose so...

Anyways, thanks for stopping by and reading! Have a great day!

[ally-writes-many-things]

Home for the Holidays (X. Riorson) Part 1

Summary: You return home for Christmas with Xaden who is pretending to be your date.

Words: 1.2K

Fandom: Fourth Wing, Xaden Riorson

Warings or A\N: Not yet 😜 Just throwing this out here. If yall have an request for any Fourth Wing male characters let me know. (Not the professors or the commanders\generals)

Tags: @daisydark @ablev92 @luxsky @graciereads

Art Credit here

As your mom continued her endless rambling on the phone, you couldn't help but let out a  sigh. She had an uncanny ability to stretch a conversation for an eternity before finally turning her attention on you. "So, are you finally coming home this year? You know, last year you promised but ended up disappointing us," She questioned, her disappointment still lingering from the previous year.

        You remembered the frustration of not being able to go home due to work commitments, and your mom never let you forget it. It wasn't as if you had a choice in the matter; your boss had denied your request for time off, leaving you with no other option. However, this time around, you were determined to make things right. "Mom, I assure you, I'll be home for the holidays. In fact, I'm leaving on Saturday," You reassured her, hoping to alleviate any lingering doubts.      

     As your mom casually mentioned the idea of inviting Dain, your ex, to the holiday gathering, you couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration. "Mom, don't even think about it," you interjected, hoping to put an end to the idea before it gained any traction.

       Her response was dismissive, "Why not? He used to come every year."

      You couldn't believe she was even considering it. "Yeah, that was before we broke up. It's not appropriate to invite your daughter's ex-boyfriend to a family event," you firmly stated, trying to make her understand.

     But your mom seemed oblivious to your reasoning. "But everyone else will have a date or someone with them. You'll be the only one without a partner," she persisted, seemingly determined to play matchmaker.

     Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help but feel annoyed at the reminder of your single status. "Mom, I'm perfectly fine being single," you asserted, hoping she would finally hear you.

      However, your mom continued on, completely disregarding your words. "Yes, I think I will invite Dain. Maybe you two can work things out and fix whatever caused the breakup," she mused, completely missing the point.

       Realizing that reasoning with her was futile, you decided to bring the conversation to an end. "Hey Mom, I've got to go. I'll see you on Saturday night," you announced, hoping to escape the mounting frustration.

      "Okay, love you sweetheart," your mom replied, seemingly unaware of the tension.

      "Love you too," you responded, quickly ending the call. 

       Overwhelmed with frustration, you let out a scream, releasing the pent-up emotions that had been building throughout the conversation.

       "Tough call,"

Startled by the unexpected voice, you turned around to find your hot neighbor, Xaden, standing there. "Oh, you scared me. Yeah, you could say that," You replied, still feeling the lingering frustration from the conversation with your mom.

       “I've got a bottle of white wine and was planning to cook some steak, if you wanna come over,”

        Xaden's offer caught you off guard. "I couldn't impose like that," you hesitated, not wanting to intrude on his plans.

       He shrugged, a charming smile playing on his lips. "It's not imposing if I invited you," He replied.

      His confidence and the thought of a relaxing evening with him was tempting. 

      "Great. See you at seven," he said, already assuming your acceptance as he walked away, leaving you with a mix of curiosity and anticipation for the evening ahead.

     —

      As Xaden poured the wine into your glass, he posed a question that struck a chord. "Why didn't you tell your mom the real reason why you two broke up?" he inquired, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

      You took a sip of the wine, contemplating his question. "Everyone loves him. My parents. My siblings. Hell, even my grandparents do. If I were to tell them that he cheated on me, they wouldn't believe me because 'he's a good guy'. It's frustrating. And honestly, I never even wanted to date him in the first place," You confessed, the weight of the situation evident in your voice.

      Xaden's expression turned sympathetic as he listened to your words. "Then why are you going back there? It sounds like they're super toxic and don't deserve you," He remarked, his concern evident.

      A smile tugged at the corners of your lips at his comment. "They're the type of people who see the good in everyone. It's just how they are," you explained, understanding the complexity of the situation.

      Xaden beckoned you to join him on the couch, asking, "Once you're down there, what's your plan?" You followed his gesture, clutching your wine glass as you settled beside him.      

      Contemplating his question, you replied, "Honestly, I'm not entirely sure. I'll try to maintain a civil demeanor. However, deep down, I know that once him and I are both there, everyone will gaslight me into rekindling our relationship,”

      Xaden leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Ask me," he urged, leaving you puzzled.   

      "Ask you what?" you inquired, trying to make sense of his cryptic statement.

      A sly smile played on his lips as he revealed his proposition. "Ask me to accompany you as your pretend date," He suggested. 

      Your heart skipped a beat, and a rush of excitement coursed through your veins. The thought of Xaden joining you at your family's gathering sent shivers down your spine. Not only would it silence your family's nagging, but Xaden's undeniable attractiveness added an extra allure. "I couldn't possibly ask you to do that. It's a two-week affair, and don't you have work?" you hesitated, concerned about inconveniencing him.  

      Dismissing your worries, he shook his head. "Don't worry about work. Just ask me," he insisted

     You remained silent, unsure of how to respond. 

      "Ask. Me," He repeated. 

      Succumbing to defeat, you let out a sigh. "Will you join me at my family's holiday gathering?" You finally asked, your voice laced with vulnerability. 

      A wide grin spread across Xaden's face as he replied, "I would love to, Buttercup. I thought you'd never ask.”

     —

      Xaden parked the car in front of your parents' house, he prepared to step out, but you gently placed a hand on his, halting his movement. "Just give me a moment," you requested, your voice filled with a mix of nerves and determination.   

      Xaden settled back into his seat, his gaze fixed on you. "Hey, look at me," he said softly, capturing your attention.

      Turning to face him, you met his reassuring gaze. "If at any point you feel the need to leave, for any reason, big or small, I promise I'll get you out of there," He assured you, his words offering a sense of comfort. 

      You nodded, acknowledging his support, and withdrew your hand from his. A warm smile graced Xaden's face. "Don't open your door just yet," He advised, causing you to raise an eyebrow in curiosity. 

      He chuckled, breaking the tension. "I know we're pretending, but I still want to make a good impression on them," he explained.

      With that, Xaden exited the car and made his way to your side, opening the door for you. Extending his hand, he offered his assistance, ready to help you step out of the car.

      Inhaling deeply, you gratefully accepted Xaden's assistance. He retrieved the luggage from the trunk, and together, you approached the front door. As you reached out to knock, Xaden's arm gently encircled your waist, providing both comfort and an unexpected surge of warmth that ignited your senses. After a few moments, your mother opened the door, her smile widening as she laid eyes on you. However, her expression quickly shifted to one of surprise as she turned her gaze towards Xaden. "Oh, whoa," she exclaimed, clearly taken aback.

[anxiefics]

YOU ASKED FOR PLOT SO HEAR ME OUT!!

if you haven’t watched the new cutscene for scara’s boss: https://youtu.be/1l9FktKnBAU

NOW BASED ON THIS^

reader manages to catch scara in time before he hits the ground and escapes carrying him bridal style (make them stronger than him just bc😁); reader ends up taking care of him (patching up his scars (let’s pretend he has flesh) washing his hair and stuff) but he has that blank stare until we put him in bed and end up hugging him nd thats the moment he violently brakes down like full on meltdown👍

this man deserves so much better😕

: ̗̀➛ ft. scaramouche

: ̗̀➛ warnings: injuries, angst (reverse hurt/comfort), 3.2 archon quest spoilers (also written before i played through it)

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

one step. two. his arm reached out for the heart he craved, the heart he needed, the heart he—

kusanali held the gnosis in her little hand, a determined yet soft look on her face, a silent apology. for what exactly? scaramouche couldn't tell. for ruining his revenge? for taking the one thing that made him feel alive? that made him feel like he had a purpose? or was it on behalf of all the miseries that he endured, the many 'betrayals' he went through?

wind shrieked in his ears, as he was falling, falling fast. he wanted to cry out, to grab hold of something, anything, whether that be a helping hand, or the hem of his mother's kimono. hell, he'd even take one of the many parts of the shouki no kami to stop his fall. instead he was motionless, like a limp doll broken beyond repair. and really, was that such an implausible description of him? he let himself fall, fall fast, and closed his eyes.

"scaramouche!"

you pushed your way past aether, who did nothing but stand there and gawk as you ran to catch him. for someone who was hailed a hero, you'd think that he would do something. but alas, it seemed like you were the only one who cared, just a little, about the indigo-haired man. for good reason too— he did cause unspeakable amounts of damage across multiple regions, not to mention he was just about to murder them. yet something told you he was hurting inside, and the pained look on his face when kusanali extracted the gnosis gave you enough confirmation you needed. it made a part of you want to forgive him of all the crimes he committed, though you waved it off as an irrational thought.

⋆ ★

he felt strong arms grab hold of him, instead of the cold touch of the cracked floor. his eyes flickered open, catching a glimpse of your concerned face, before succumbing to the haven in the back of his mind.

⋆ ★

"i trust you can handle this mess yourselves." you gave them a nod, before running out with scaramouche still in your hands. they had no time to answer as you were already out and on the way to your house.

why? you asked yourself. why were you helping him? perhaps it was because of your 'weak' heart, empathizing with those in need, regardless of their questionable morals. but no, you didn't think that was the case. though you pitied the treasure hoarders you fought, as they were only trying to make a living, it wasn't the same. you felt drawn to him, to his marionette self trying to break free of the electro archon's strings. maybe he reminded you of yourself. of the anemo vision tied securely at your hip, a symbol of freedom.

by the time your musing was over, you were already at the door of your humble abode on the outskirts of sumeru city. you laid scaramouche down on your plush couch, as he blinked awake. his eyes were empty, holding no hatred nor sorrow— the blank slate he wanted to achieve. a perfect puppet, to be used for the safekeeping of his mother, no, creator's gnosis. yet, after all that talk about "scrubbing away every last bit of human emotion," he still failed. he still had the gnosis stripped of him, taken away by the god he was supposed to overtake. he still was the imperfect prototype, abandoned and left to rot.

he let you tend to his injuries, dried blood (was that his or someone else's?) washed away by the soothing touch of water. he let you bandage them gently so that they sat comfortably against his porcelain skin. he let you rinse the specks of dirt out of his hair, drying it until it was all ruffled and soft. he let you give him light, cotton clothes to change into (you were too shy to dress him yourself, not that he would've minded otherwise.)

scaramouche sat back down on the sofa, long, white robes adorning his small figure. he stared blankly into space, focusing on you when you came into view. the both of you blinked at each other for a few seconds, being the socially awkward pair you are. you decided to walk up to him slowly, a tiny smile on your face. your arms enveloped him tenderly, a touch he hadn't felt in centuries. his arms were limp at his sides, before wrapping them around your shoulders. one second. two. the empty shell he once was faded, replaced with bitter tears hidden by rage for who knows how long.

his cries came in heaving sobs that racked his entire body. scaramouche's hushed sniffles and soft breaths echoed through the room. lithe fingers grabbed your back tightly, holding on to you for dear life. a silent plea begging, please don't leave me. you squeezed back. i would never. no words had to be said, the both of your actions spoke far louder than they ever could. he left your shoulder damp, but you didn't care. you offered all that you could, in hopes of lessening the agony of his afflicted mind. you rubbed his back softly, mindlessly tracing circles and swirls to soothe him.

as his tears dried, and as you slowly let go of each other, the close proximity you two shared began to seep into your minds. you jumped back in surprise, and he ducked his head down to hide the growing blush on his face.

"i.. thank you," he mumbled.

you looked up at him in shock, because did the scaramouche just say thank you? is this his character development arc? nevermind that.

you smiled. "anytime."

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

a/n: at first i was avoiding spoilers but i already saw a part of it from a tiktok so i went "fuck it" and watched the whole thing (curiosity got the best of me lmao) also i made kusanali more forgiving here because i feel like she had smth to do with scara's change (i haven't played through the archon quest yet so idk if its said there) that being said i am avoiding the rest of the 3.2 spoilers like crazy now lmao

[goodolddumbbanana]

TO BE A MIRROR [5]

An Au when Sun is dead (by Nexus), Dark Sun pretends to be Sun while trying to find some way to revive Sun in secret. Nexus's break down, maybe get some redemption. Everyone is not having a good time except Sun, that poor boy only when he is dead (temporarily) can has some rest.

Summary: Immediately after Ruin was recruited, Dark Sun returned to his dimension to clean up Moon's body. This is Dark Sun's POV, so Dark Sun will call himself Sun, because in his heart, he still thinks he is just a Sun.

“…Your boss will see you pretty soon. Say hi to him for me, could you?”

Sun did not stay to watch the show. It wouldn't be wrong to say he had too much work to do, but honestly, he was just so fed up with whatever threats Moo-Nexus would pull for that poor animatronic.

Nexus - That animatronic, from the day he changed his appearance, continuously so desperately trying to prove that he was so different from his ex-version. Sun doesn't need to be a therapist to know where this will go and how much wrong this could go. It would be adorable if it weren't actually so ironic and shameful to watch.

How he dresses. How he acts. And how he is so obbesess with these star power, with the negative star power.

Tall imitated body with lifeless red eyes, a manic creepy voice and an attitude that doesn't care much about others. It made Sun's tongue dry. The feeling of unpleasantness, to be reminded of a familiar face, the cause of so much of the suffering of Sun’s.

Killcode .

Despite the fact that it was Sun's decision to borrow ‘the helping hand’ from someone who had nothing to give, witnessing a Moon walking by, still left a feeling of bitterness in Sun's non-existent stomach.

Hopefully the other Moon will quickly deal with this version of Moon...

Or this Ruin will show Sun something new…

Moon… or Nexus, has become too… ‘creative’ for Dark Sun’s taste.

It would be a huge loss if the Nexus was destroyed at this stage now, but... to be honest, Sun didn't care if that animatronic died.

Of course, these days when Sun has the urge to pull and scrap every string on any Moon he sees have passed, but the hunger and anger that wants to destroy those self-centered ego assholes is still like a smoldering fire that can flare up at any time in Sun's chest.

It can be said these feelings of hatred and anger, are sometimes inconvenient.

—\

Hop in the portal to get in his dimension. His home. The atmosphere was quiet, with the breath of gloomy darkness passing over Sun's shoulder. Only the rattling sound from Dark Sun's bell was like a ray of shock, illuminating the lab at this time.

There's no one there anymore…

In fact, there has been no one left in this place for a long time.

Death took Sun as its messenger, luring Sun a door to freedom.

And honestly, Sun has never regretted accepting that hand.

Heavy patches of dust clung to the railings, condensing like a dirty black mud, dripping with stagnant sounds. Green electric light covers Dark Sun's head like a thin blanket, like a gentle greeting to an expatriate returning to his homeland. The circuit boards blurred the light, the black windings of the electrical tubes steadily ran each volt to the prison, the escape route, the home of Sun and Moon.

Moon's rotten body lay lifeless scattered on the white tile floor, feeling like a mockery.

“Ah, Moon… Ruin really did a number on your body, huh?”

Sun quietly mused. He stepped into the sterile white room and looked at Moon's body, torn apart and broken in the way a child who doesn't know how to play with his toy would do.

Sun doesn't know what to feel, should he be happy that his Moon is dead? Or angry? Anguished? What should a normal person feel when standing next to the body of someone who the term loved and hated is so conflicted to tell?

Sun had killed Moon before, he had killed so many Moons, so many that he couldn't count them all before he fell into the fatigue of a habit that had grown old.

Sun shouldn't have felt anything, but looking at the layer of black oil spreading on the floor, the emptiness had been screaming since the day Sun made the 'decision' to cut off the connection between them, once again vibrating.

There was a tearful calm that slowly spread in his soul, spare with an annoying feeling when he saw his belongings being touched by others.

A cold, bitter taste filled Sun's mouth, like a red shadow falling on the top of his head.

Sun felt heavy, but didn't know where that heaviness came from.

The empty moon-shaped metal face stared back at him, the red light that once flashed with fear and hatred now faded, returning to a lifeless piece of glass.

Stretching out his hand to pick up Moon's face, the thought briefly appeared in Sun's mind, whether he should rebuild his Moon again, before realizing that his hand was shaking slightly.

The gold-plated metal joints, wrapped in bells and red ribbons, seemed to encounter some error that his sensors did not recognize, twitching endlessly.

Moon was dead, and he should have been happy, or relieved, but in this prison that suddenly became too stuffy, he doesn’t know why he didn't feel satisfied with that.

What is wrong?

Moon was no longer Moon since a long time ago, from the day Sun touched the source code behind his brother's head.

His intelligence was completely destroyed, just a broken machine that kept repeating empty pleas, probably because the influence of the personality chip was still intact.

Sun wondered what took him so long to kill Moon.

It's because of the remaining love, one thing makes him feel so nostalgic about the old days, about the wish that how they could have been better?

Or is it simply hatred, a petty revenge for the fact that Moon always wished to have a body of his own; always enjoy making Sun's life hell?

That if hell is Sun's path to go, then at least his brother should be in the first row?

“I don't understand why I can't clean you up like all the other useless trash, Moon. Even though my old program is screaming at me to do it.”

Choosing a comfortable position to sit down, Sun leaned his back against the wall. Black oil and soot clung to his pants, and the air had an unpleasant smell of moldy motor oil dust.

It felt like the old days came back, about these days of struggling in the bunker, about how instead of motor oil clinging to his hands now, there was the blood of innocent lives.

“It's pointless to talk to you, because animatronics don't have souls, so I can't say you are haunting me.”

If Sun believed in ghosts more, or Sun's hallucinations hated him more, perhaps the person who was silently looking at him in the reflective surface at this time would scream and curse at him, trying to make him feel guilt and pain. But no… they never did that.

Just looks, these red, yellow, brown eyes, staring at him with silence... Of breathing and the feeling of someone standing behind Sun’s back. It was almost comforting, a feeling of someone's companionship, of ghostly guilt rippling waves in Sun's parched heart, before being forced into the eternal void of non-existence.

“Is that the sentimentality of the elderly, Moon?”‌ Sun chuckled, stroking tenderly the sharp edges of the face plate. “Or in this case, animatronic?”

There was only the gentle sound of metal colliding in a space that had never been able to fully breathe for Sun.

Sighing softly, Sun stood up. Moon's face was still held in his palm before it fell coldly to the ground, making a harsh noise.

It shouldn't have startled Sun, but when looking at the rubble called the corpse of someone not worthy of love, Sun's body twitched again.

In the blink of an eye, it was as if he could hear Moon's angry scream, and his sobbing apology from the past.

Maybe he should come another day to clean up, it's not like Ruin could find anything in these broken things anyways...

Opening the teleportation gate, Sun walked through. But instead of Sun's gloomy tower, there was a warm room with another yellow animatronic sitting and playing games.

Another version of him, a Sun, was so startled that they stiffened when looking at him. That yellow animatronic body almost screamed reflexively, before holding back and relaxing forcibly.

Silver eyes contrasted with Sun's red pupils, looking at him alert.

"You…"

“Ah… Me.” Sun smiled lifelessly. He doesn't know why he could have made such a mistake like misplacing the direction, but the feeling of not breathing clearly in Sun's chest suddenly stopped, causing the steps he was about to disappear to suddenly become hesitant. 

The other person sat nervously on the sofa, the loud noise made the cat in their lap jump out.

“Why are you here?!”

The voice was still mixed with a bit of stammering and worry, but mostly it was fatigue, the feeling of exhaustion deep in their bones that Sun himself was all too familiar with, something that always existed there every time he woke up.

“And what happened to your clothes?! You look like you just fell into a garbage pit and fought a bear but lost!"

“Oh nothing much, Sun. Kill a guy, destroy a dimension. Whatever you want me to say.” Sun shrugged, he leaned down on the couch, letting the greasy layer of oil seep into the expensive lotus fabric bought with Moon's money.

“Eh—” An awkward atmosphere surrounded the other person. Their hands were constantly intertwined, half awkwardly as if wanting to stand up and call their Moon, half indifferently placed in the void.

It feels like the other version of Sun had something to say but didn't. And the movement kept repeating as if stuck in a loop, until the 5th time when that bell rang in Sun's ear, it started to make Sun open his mouth.

“Do you have anything you want to say?”

That nervous anxiety had rarely bothered Sun so severely these days since he had killed most of his universe's enemies. But it seems that for the other person, it is still a burden.

“Er–Ah— There's something strange about you today…”

“How so?”

Sun raised his eyebrows in confusion, his hand raised, vaguely stained in oil and soot. He feels fine, nothing wrong. 

Actually, he feels better than ever. 

The concern looks slowly crawling in their other eyes. It makes Sun want to get out, it feels like some of his heart was exposed. A funny thought suddenly came from nowhere, causing him to approach the other person in a suspicious way.

“Hey, Sun~~~”

“W–What?! Wait— What’re you want to do!!?”

The other person looked so scared that he backed away unconsciously. Sun almost felt guilty for making his other self look so tense, before realizing ah, he wasn't actually giving a flying fuck.

Pop!

Sun's dirty, slimy hands pressed and applied forcefully to his clean version's shoulder. The other person's face was blank for a moment before hardening into an expression of disgust mixed with indignation, when they themselves realized something sticky was running down their shoulder.

“Uh!!!!! Wh–Why did you do that??!!”

Because it's fun? Because you deserve it? Because you dare to show concern for me when in fact you can't even take care of yourself? Because even though your Moon is still alive and kicking, I don’t hate the rest of your family this much?

Because in reality I'm jealous of the closeness you have and I'm also desperate to get some warmth from someone else?

There were many answers that Sun couldn't give, so he just stood up suddenly, opened a gate and jumped in, leaving behind confused curses from another him.

“What just happened???”

[kieraninakaleidoscope]

INTRODUCTION!

HIHIHI! ^w^

My name is Kieran and I use he/him pronouns!

More about me below the cut!

ABOUT ME!

Hi! Thanks for stopping by! Like I said, I’m Kieran & I’m a trans guy who loves videogames, drawing, anime, painting, & dancing. No matter who you are, you are welcome here. Don’t forget you are loved <3.

Ask box is always open!!

My Fandoms:

-Helluva Boss

-Hazbin Hotel

-Danganronpa

-Undertale

-Apex Legends

-Overwatch

-Hades

-Hollow Knight

-Pokemon

-Kinito Pet

-That’s Not My Neighbor!

-Five Nights at Freddy’s

-Cavetown

-Legend of Zelda

Check out my friends!

@junkkey cool tumblr mutual with so many cool OCs and art!

@falsefantasy I love them so much. They always brighten my day when they tag me in stuff!

@the-confused-muse MY ABSOLUTE BESTIE EVER OMG I LOVE YOU SM! She is so smart, funny and talented! Check her posts out ^w^

@hyperizzation long-time friend. Super cool fandoms, posts, and art! So talented!

@eternallyajanedoe longest-time online mutual. Sweet, considerate and one of my besties! Go say hi!

@eanul-rmbl fellow Hypnos fan. So cool! Awesome art. Reminded me I’m not alone and it meant the world to me.

@chaostrainee makes the coolest FNAF bracelets ever? Literally so so talented like wtf

[sydsaint]

Summary: The reader is Shawn's assistant for NXT having an out-of-control night. Luckily for her, Ilja is always around to lend a helping hand and charming word where he can.

You rush into the building clutching an overflowing briefcase of files in one hand and your bag in the other. Your security badge swings violently against your chest as you weave through backstage personnel in a desperate attempt to make it to Shawn's office before he notices your absence.

You reach Shawn's office huffing and puffing like an animal. You shoulder through the door and thankfully find the room empty. "Oh thank god, I made it." You let out a shakey sigh and hurry over to your desk.

You set your stuff down and take a second to compose yourself. While you're catching your breath, the doorknob turns signaling that someone is coming in. You quickly scramble to your feet ready to greet who is surely Shawn arriving for the night.

"Oh, Ilja." Your rigid posture relaxes when the current NXT champion steps through the door. "Good evening." You sink back down into your chair with another sigh.

"Good evening, YN, my dear." Ilja flashes a debonaire smile at you as he aproaches your desk. "I saw you rushing across the loading bay earlier." He explains. "So I assumed that you could use a little pick-me-up before our night begins." He reveals a cup of hot coffee from catering in his hand.

You eye the coffee with a grateful smile and gladly take it from Ilja's hands. "Oh, thank you so much, Ilja." You thank him. "This is just what I needed after all that running I just did." You muse.

Ilja chuckles at your joke and nods. "I was happy to help, YN." He assures you. "Now! I will let you get back to work. Please do take care, my dear. And perhaps we will see one another again tonight." He bows his head at you with charming smile before turning and exiting the room.

You watch Ilja shut the door behind him and feel blush creeping up your neck. You've been hit on plenty of times by some of the NXT superstarts since you took this job as Shawn's assistant. But none of them have the charm and poetic way with words that Dragonuv does.

A few minutes later Shawn finally arrives and greets you as he comes into the room. "Evening, YN." He nods as he passes your desk.

"Evening, boss." You nod back at him, pretending to be enthralled with the various paperwork at your desk.

"YN, remind me what we've got scheduled for tonight." Shawn asks you as he makes his way around his much larger desk at the back of the room.

You nod and dig around for tonights schedule. Once you've located the paper you're looking for you rise from your seat and walk over to Shawn's desk.

"We've got two more Dusty cup matches tonight. Both Semi-finals. Roxanne Perez and Cora Jade have a match scheduled. Chase University also have a tag match against Gallus. As well as a few backstage segments and promo's being filmed." You read everything on the list before handing it to Shawn. "Oh! And you have a conferene call with Hunter in 15 minutes." You add.

"Right, conference call." Shawn sighs and glosses over the paper. "I want you out at the producers table while I'm on the call." He informs you. "Just in case something happens that would otherwise warrant my attention."

You nod and walk back over to your desk to get some work done before Shawn's conference call. "No problem, boss."

You reply to a few emails and fill out a paper or two before it comes time for Shawns conference call. Shawn gets ready to take the call and you dismiss yourself out to the producers table backstage.

"Hey, guys." You greet everyone at the table once you've arrived backstage. "Shawn is busy taking an important call so he's left me in charge in case anything goes down while he's busy." You explain as you take a seat at the table.

The others nod and everyone gets back to work. You sit and watch the action in the ring for while before you grow thirsty and decide to grab a water from the table on the other side of the room.

You are retreiving said water when Ilja happens through the room after filming a short backstage promo for the show. "YN, darling!" He greets you with a wide smile and walks over.

"Ilja! Hello again." You smile right back at him. "How are you since we last talked? Everything go well with your backstage promo?" You ask him.

"It went fine." Ilja nods. "And I'm looking forward to facing Trick Williams in the ring here in a couple of weeks." He adds.

You nod in agreement and take a sip of your water. "I'm sure it'll be a great match to watch."

"How are you?" Ilja asks you after a moment. "Shawn isn't working you too hard is he?" He lightheartedly jokes.

"Not at all." You giggle. "The job can be hard at times, yeah. But I do love my work." You assure Ilja. "Plus, I have noticed a certain someone is always nearby to make my day better." You grin at him.

Ilja chuckles and nods. "It's my pleasure, YN. Anything I can do to ensure that stunning smile graces your lovely features, my dear."

You begin to blush again and bow your head in embarassment. "Ilja." You giggle to yourself when someone from the producers table begins beckoning you back to work. "Sorry, I should get back." You sheepishly dismiss yourself.

"Of course." Ilja nods and steps out of the way. "I'd never dream of keeping you from your work. Have a wonderful rest of your night, YN." He flashes you one last frustratingly charming smile.

"You too, Ilja." You nod and hurry back off to the producer's table blushing like a schoolgirl with a hopeless crush.

[sepublic]

Finished S1 of Castlevania Nocturne! I gotta say, that one vampire wife of the Marquis who kept his head around was the funniest character in the entire show so far.

In all seriousness, Alucard!!! I was wondering when he'd show up and by the time he did, I'd completely forgotten and thought it was Olrox who saved Richter from Drolta! Speaking of Drolta, she dresses very similar to the Succubus from Symphony of the Night, and even has a similar attack where she spreads out her wings, and sharp tendrils emerge from them; Plus with Alucard being the one to kill her, I'm just gonna treat her as the Succubus. RIP Queen you were a good one.

Does anyone else think Emmanuel is Shaft? He looks like Shaft, he's an evil priest, he's working for an evil vampire, him being human makes him necessary to pull souls from hell. That forgemaster contraption kinda reminds me of that weird orb-thing his ghost fights with in Symphony of the Night...

Speaking of that! Olrox muses on the demon that Emmanuel made a deal with to create that machine, and because of its creator, it's indestructible. Could this be pointing towards Galamoth as the final enemy of the show; He's the hardest boss of Symphony of the Night, Alucard has just shown up, and the two technically fought in... Kid Dracula. Where he was also the final boss for Alucard. The demon might just be Death, but then he's described as an elemental spirit.

I'm also curious as to how Edouard's story will turn out! Between him and Jacques and the Night Creature with a suspicious amount of mouths (as Bathory noted), the show seems to be going back to the whole idea of Night Creatures remembering their humanity and being rehabilitated. Which just begs the question of what happened to Isaac's kingdom of Styria, meant to be a place for Night Creatures to heal? Will we see that come back for Edouard? Isaac was once a slave himself, just as Annette was, so seeing all three come together would be wonderful! It's poetic, as Night Creatures are literally dehumanized slaves, so seeing Isaac, as well as Edouard (someone who helped liberate slaves) resonate with them works.

I wonder if we'll see the Moth Princess from Bloodlines; She's the penultimate boss, and Bathory had her starring role in that game. She looks human enough, but she's probably a vampire, so it'd be easy to adapt her as another lieutenant, especially in the wake of Drolta's death.

DAYUM Olrox and Mizrak! Firstly I'm glad they made Olrox turn into a green reptile monster like in the games... I was joking about the more comfortable place to meet being a bed, but holy shit it actually happened. I love all the references to Olrox's game lore, like his skulls and floating around... Here's hoping we get to see him dramatically unfold his legs in a chair, and then stand up!

I had a lot of fun; Richter was great, Maria was adorable and she is my precious child and I love her so much!!! I love her turtle and I hope we get to see her summon a whole-ass dragon as her most powerful spell, something like that.

I wonder how Emmanuel will go from here, if he's meant to be Shaft; Will he dive into full villainy, or will he be like Isaac, in that his show counterpart will have a happier ending? As Tera said, Emmanuel got his ram; Could it lead to him developing a messiah complex, thinking God rewarded him for his faith? Or will he know better? If he's Shaft, I better see him throw some... *snrk*... balls.

And did anyone else find the Night Creatures in this season to be particularly horny? Like that one moth girl who looks like a monsterfucker's OC, I mean I'm not complaining! Is this just a creative decision by the animators or does Emmanuel have anything he wants to share with the class... It all started with Abel it seems.

AND JUSTE!!! I managed to guess it; The white hair always made me wonder how Juste might be adapted, hypothetically, so it seems the show just portrays him as an old man for that! When he took Richter's whip, I had my suspicions and made the hair connection, it was wonderful... And they referenced Lydie and Maxim!!! Unfortunately it was yet another tragic ending for a Belmont... Man, what happened to the previous season's ending suggesting a happier route, only for us to go back to a "Last of the Belmonts" situation??? At least we got a Sypha shout out!

One more thing I just remembered; Annette's favorite color is Green. I believe that's a reference to her sometimes being depicted with a green dress in the source material? And in-universe, might reference Edouard... I love the connection between Annette's manipulation of metal, and her whole thing of banishing the demonic machine; Here's hoping she gets to pull it off!

All in all, I'm excited to see how things go in the second season! Which will really suck waiting for, but that's the price for quality I'm afraid. Ethical quality at least. But I gotta wait, what other choice do I have? Here's looking forward to how Alucard interacts with yet another Belmont... When Richter almost drank, I could just SEE him become Trevor again and I bet Alucard felt a chill down his spine for some reason.

[winterwitch-trash]

" Broken. "

Author's Note: Thank you everyone for all the reblogs and the comments! I hope you enjoy this new update that sets a lot of things in motion! <3

Summary: The aftermath of that wretched tape. How will Bucky react upon seeing his wife in this state? One thing is for certain. No one is safe in the city.

Word count: 1722 words Chapter Warnings: Violence, mentions of assault, angst.

Rumlow had just received the tape that he had created hours ago, so it was time to mail it to the bane of his existence. James Barnes. He hated that man with a burning passion, so he would do anything to ruin him and that’s exactly what he planned to do.

Just as he was getting ready to move out, his right-hand man, Rollins trudged in, wanting to know the arrangements for the day. The dark-haired mobster just shrugged before talking. “You will drop that little tramp back home. But before you do, feel free to do as you please with her. I don’t really care. I need to take care of something.” Rumlow responded as he strapped the gun secure on the inside of his jacket.      

To this, Rollins simply grinned. Finally. He would have a bit of fun with that whore. The whole time his boss was recording, the man could only imagine the sounds she made. But no. He was going to leave something for her to remember them by. 

“Fine. I’ll go downstairs to get her ready.” He grumbled retreating to the corridor, while his boss exited the building. 

Meanwhile, back to the Mansion, Bucky was properly freaking out. He had been trying to reach his wife since yesterday, but her phone kept going straight to voicemail, making him think that something was seriously wrong. And he didn’t like that, at all.

The brunette mobster was getting ready to head out with Clint to look for his wife when Natasha’s voice boomed across the mansion. “Buck!!!! You got mail!”

Mail? From who? This was not exactly a good thing.. Nevertheless, he would see what this was all about. Natasha hadn’t dared to examine the content of the folder as it was destined for Bucky and she knew that he wanted to be the one who took care of things like this. But she couldn’t help but be curious as to what was on this tape. 

“What’s this?” Bucky asked casting a curious glance on the item. “It looks like a tape, but I don’t know what this tape is about…” Nat answered honestly.

“Maybe it’s footage from the club? I took the liberty of requesting it just to make sure we avoid any unnecessary clash with people that think it’s a good idea to come looking for trouble there… And the person who runs it agreed. So maybe that’s it?” She mused, trying to think of the kind of the footage that was on there… Just like James, she was about to be proven wrong in the worst possible way.

One way to find out.

Without uttering another word, the brunette mobster, put the tape on, and sat down, completely unprepared for the shock of his life…

Within minutes, the screen filled with the moans and cries of his wife. No… That was—That was impossible.. Someone had to be playing a sick joke on him. Seeing her bloody and beaten, being forced to listen to her screams for mercy tore his heart out, but he managed to hide it well. So well, that it scared Natasha who was observing him, not bearing to turn towards the screen; she herself couldn’t bear watch her friend being torn apart so brutally. Rumlow had just signed his death sentence, he just didn’t know it.  

As for Odette, she was desperately trying to find something sharp so she could break down the lock. But as soon as she heard the heavy footsteps approaching, she scrambled back to her chair, panting heavily. Seconds later, the heavy door opened to reveal Rollins. Just like Rumlow, he was scary, and downright sadistic. “Morning princess!” He teased, only to be met with silence. “Ah, don’t be mad… You and the boss had fun yesterday, didn’t you?” The moment he reminded her of the torture she had to be subjected the other day, she turned and spat at him. “Leave me the fuck alone!” She screamed, choking back a sob as the memories were still fresh in her mind.

“How about I take you home instead?” He suggested, feigning innocence, despite her act of defiance.

Now, this proposition came out of nowhere, and she pondered on it for a few minutes. “What’s the catch? You put me in the van and kill me instead?” She was not trusting a single word that came out of his mouth. 

“No catch. I promise.” Obviously that was a lie, but he had to get her to relax somehow. 

Odette was exhausted from all the screaming and the pain that seemed never ending. So she simply slumped down to her chair, not expecting the onslaught of pain that he would bring her, as she had no idea that he was about to brand her.

“Smart choice kid..” Rollins smirked victoriously, before strapping her down. “Now, this won’t hurt a bit.” As he spoke, she could see some sort of stick protruding from his jacket.

Oh god. What was he going to do to her?

The HYDRA henchman looked at her as if he could read her thoughts. “What I’m going to do you ask? I’ll just leave a reminder for your husband. That’s all.” He informed her calmly all the while he prepared the burning instrument. Odette was petrified, yet she had no time to react when he pressed the instrument on her skin, her pained screams filling the room.

Soon, the smell of burning skin wafted in the small space. She could see the HYDRA insignia on her bleeding skin, but her throat closed up, leaving her heaving. If there was a God out there, she begged for him to take her life. Bucky wasn’t going to want a person who was damaged goods as a wife… He needed someone perfect… And Odette was far from perfect.

Scarred, violated, beat up… Why would someone like Bucky want to stick with her now? The redhead felt like a shell of herself now…

“There. Now you’ll always remember that you were Rumlow’s whore.” Rollins taunted before pulling her up from the chair, not caring about being gentle or careful.

In the meantime, Bucky was pacing in his office like a raging bull. Even Nat couldn’t keep him in check at this point. “Bucky! Just listen to me!” She all but yelled at him. “I know you want to get Odette out of there, believe me, I do! But if we barge in there right now, guns blazing, Rumlow will not hesitate and end her life in front of you. Is that what you want?!” She relayed the situation from a logical perspective. She wanted her friend back home too, so she could understand how he felt. This wasn’t an easy situation where he could just attack his enemy in his own turf.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do Nat? Just sit around, waiting for him to send me another tape??! I just witnessed the woman I loved being violated in the most brutal ways!” He yelled, clutching at his gun. But deep down, the mob boss knew that she had made a valid point. However, no one in the streets would be safe from now on. He would leave no stone unturned and every HYDRA sympathizer would be dealt with accordingly. Before meeting Odette, Bucky was dubbed as Winter. That was due to his cold nature when it came to executions and assassinations of whoever crossed his path. So one could say that Winter was coming for everyone. “I need Steve, Clint and Sam in here. We’re going to have a meeting. I need you to go out, warn civilians to stay in their homes. Our target as of right now is Rumlow and his whole gang. But the citizens don’t need to get caught in the crossfire.” Bucky announced moments later, after he had managed to regain control of his emotions. Nat nodded in agreement and just as she opened the door to head out, one of the housekeepers was standing there, with a mortified expression. “Sir…  You need to come see this.” She said, voice trembling. Before she even finished the sentence, Bucky was rushing down the stairs. And what he witnessed, knocked the air right out of him. Same with Nat. Her eyes widened in shock. Odette was back.

“Baby…” Bucky muttered, rushing to her side as the housekeepers were instructed to prepare her room.

She was back… She was finally back to his arms, and at that moment Bucky swore that he would never let go of her again. Seeing the bruises and the marks littering her skin, made him feel awful.. But seeing the HYDRA insignia branded on her was the worst. Why couldn’t he sense that something was wrong? “Bucky… They—They—” Odette broke down in his embrace, not caring about the wounds or the scars. All that mattered was that she was back.

“Shh… It’s okay my love.. You’re okay… You’re going to be okay… I promise…” Bucky whispered back kissing her repeatedly on her lips, attempting to distract her even a little.

“Alright! Everyone, we need to give our boss a little privacy!” Steve announced to the staff and everyone who was watching the scene unfold. In that moment Bucky couldn’t feel more grateful to his friend for that…

Slowly, the small crowd dispersed, going back to their duties.

“Let’s get you upstairs angel…” Bucky proposed softly swooping his wife up in his arms. Minutes later, the two had made it into their bedroom, and the brunette was carefully stripping her off the dirty and torn-up clothes. God, what they had done to someone so precious as her? A million thoughts were swirling in his mind, but he couldn’t—no, he didn’t want to do anything right now. All that mattered was to help his wife. “B-Bathroom…” She mumbled hoarsely, not having the strength to stand on her feet. And so, the mobster did as she asked him, her soft cries breaking his heart little by little. “This wasn’t your fault…” He kept repeating as if that would make it better… But what more could he say to help her feel better even a little? Nothing. So, he spent the next hours, taking care of her. Rumlow could wait. But one thing was certain. War was coming to him.

@world-of-aus @tuiccim Thank you for the ideas and the inspiration you're giving me for this story <3

[multiverse-imagines]

Vashtember (A Writer's Hijacking) Day 2: Knives

Okay, so I cheated a tiny bit. Its technically about @aidakhar 's dad!Knives au. But how can I resist Knives being a doting father?

"Azrael, that's the third Toothbrush this month." Knives frowned as he looked at the small disgruntled boy who presented him with yet another mangled toothbrush.

"My teeth are just too sharp, Papa." Azrael moped.

"I see that. I'll have to talk to Dr. Conrad about this…" Knives mused to himself, as he comforted his son, "For now, why don't we just keep doing our best until we can figure something out, okay? It's not very efficient as far as the lifespans of toothbrushes go, but it'll keep your teeth clean in the meantime."

"Fine." Azrael huffed as he stalked off, going to his room. Knives was frustrated as well. It was important to maintain oral cleanliness. How was his child supposed to do so when his teeth were ripping through each toothbrush at such a rapid pace? He pondered these things as he too stalked down the hall towards Dr. Conrad's lab.

"Ah, Master Knives. What brings you around this time?" Conrad asked, sitting at his desk, a beaker of coffee still steaming close by.

"Azrael just gave me his third decimated toothbrush this month. I need something different than this archaic stick." Knives complained to Conrad.

"Well, the evolution of the toothbrush hasn't really changed since the Earth's 1800's… they even used them in the ancient Egyptian era. It's one of those "If it's not broke, don't fix it" kinds of things." Conrad explained.

"Then we have to make something those stupid humans couldn't." Knives snidely replied.

"Of course, Sir. When I was a child back on Earth, they did have these chewable toothbrushes, but I fear the boy will just chew through them."

"What were they made of? Could we improve upon whatever material they used? Make them reusable, or recyclable?"

"They were just silicone, but, again, I fear he would just rip through Silicone like a shark eating a seal." Conrad lamented, taking a sip from his beaker of coffee, "I could improve it to withstand the psi of his bite strength strength. I can probably project 170 psi at the most, so I can make a silicone that withstands up to 200… Can you bring The Boy in to run some tests? He might enjoy it, since he'll get to bite stuff." Conrad began to write calculations and equations down on a piece of paper before asking the question.

"Yeah, I can bring him around, but… in the morning. He needs his sleep." Knives said, noting the time. Conrad chuckled, realizing what a doting father his fearsome boss had become. It made Conrad miss the daughter he'd wronged so long ago as he sipped his coffee once more.

"Of course, Sir. That will give me time to experiment with the silicone before I can run my tests for the prototype. This is a welcome distraction. I was beginning to feel burnt out on my previous experiments." Conrad shrugged.

"Wonderful. I know you won't disappoint us, Doctor. I shall return with Azrael in the morning." Knives nodded before leaving Conrad to his work.

***

When Knives and Azrael returned the next morning, Conrad was still hard at work.

"What is your progress, Doctor?" Knives asked as He reminded Azrael to be mindful of his surroundings, as not to collide with anything within the lab.

"Ah, Master Knives. You're just in time. I just finished with the silicone that can withstand 200 psi. I still want an average bite test from him. I may be able to adjust the longevity of the silicone, and we'll be able to recycle them, combine them together to make new ones. Silicone is surprisingly easy to make on this planet, since silicone is made from sillica particles in sand. We live on a planet covered in the stuff!" Conrad said triumphantly, pulling a lever for dramatic affect as a compression machine squished a rubbery piece of silicone. A little machine attached to it beeped, calculating the integrity of the small marble, and the he lifted the lever, to show the marble still intact. Conrad took the marble to a nearby sink, washing it thoroughly, before handing it to Azrael.

"Here, chew on this for me. Please do not swallow it." Conrad instructed. Azrael paused before taking the little marble from Conrad's hand, and popping it into his mouth. He munched on it, his eyes brightening a little at the bouncy resistance the marble gave.

"Should I try to rip it apart with my teeth?" Azrael asked as he chewed.

"Give it your best shot, kid." Conrad nodded, giving Azrael permission to destroy his prototype in the name of science. After a minute or two, Azrael spit the ball back into Conrad's gloved hand. Conrad gave the silicone ball study under the microscope, investigating the small tears made by Azrael's teeth.

"Was it hard to chew on, Azrael?" Conrad asked as he gazed into the microscope.

"Not really. It was like… chewing gum." Azrael explained. Conrad nodded, standing from the microscope.

"Okay. I figured Independants had a harder bite force than humans, but I didn't expect harder than 200 psi, damn. Good thing Silicone can go up to 1,500 psi when using the right formula." Conrad sighed. "My goal is to create a silicone that won't tear under his bite force, but is still easy to chew on." Conrad explained. He picked up a small device that had a rubber mouthpiece attached. After sterilizing the piece, he asked Azrael to place it in his mouth, and bite down as hard as he could. Conrad frowned at the results.

"Hm, 220. Yep, gotta make a stronger silicone. Alright, I should have the prototype ready by tomorrow morning." Conrad concluded, writing some notes. Knives and Azrael went about their day as normal.

***

"Okay, I think I've got it this time. Try this one." Conrad handed Azrael a small ball with little silicone bristles, sterilized of course. The middle was hollow for toothpaste to fit inside. Azrael chewed on the ball, purposefully trying to mangle it with his teeth. After a few minutes, he spit the ball out as before, and after a study by Conrad, the item was complete.

"Yeah, this new chewable toothbrush should last you two months, or about sixty teeth cleanings. I'll have more made, and ready to go within the week. They're easy to recycle, so I'll be able to make a sustainable stock of them." Conrad was nearly giddy at his success, "I recommend using this with supervision due to the potential choking hazard, but that's just a precaution." He noted to Knives, from one father to another.

"I'll be sure to do so. We can brush our teeth together, then." Knives nodded, internally excited to have a new style of cleaning for his son.