#anyway today was probably my most productive day ever I got so many things done!!

[thekoiboi]

So I got into Dead Cells a few weeks ago :3c

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

To Make a Heaven of Hell (8/?)

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Virgil is tasked to go collect more coffee than he can carry alone, thankfully someone comes to save him.

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Chapter warnings: None (please lmk if I'm missing something)

Notes: *rubbing my hands together like an evil genius* guess who's hereeeeeeeeeeee-

Anyway uh- sorry this took like three months? I genuinely don't know what happened - I was very busy over Christmas and then uni deadlines caught up on me - and I've been working on so many things that I'm just screaming into the void at this point. I'm glad I could finish this chapter, though!!! I love this fic so much!

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Whatever scheme Janus and the others had gotten up to had been almost pushed out of his mind by the time it actually came to involve him. 

Almost, because he hadn’t quite been able to stop thinking about the ‘yet’ surrounding his own involvement in the plan whenever he’d had a free second. But they’d spent enough time talking back to assholes at the Hellp desk - and at a good few hours of therapy sessions with Emile that had been mostly productive - to mostly put it out of their mind. For the most part. 

Once a week had passed since Janus and Angel had headed into Hell giggling about who knows what, Virgil started wondering if he really would be involved in this plan at all. 

—-

Barely even the day after Virgil had thought that, he was introduced to the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. 

Well, introduced is a strong word. 

He noticed the guy across the lobby - stood in the entrance to the tunnel that leads down to the residential levels of Hell. Remus was with him, it looked like he was trying to coax the pretty stranger to come further into the lobby, but when Virgil met his eyes - deep pools of molten gold that almost seemed to glow and make Virgil feel like his bones were melting but somehow in a good way? - the stranger ran. Well - good to know he was apparently scary to the pretty demon. What a great confidence boost. Virgil sighed - just as Remus seemed to across the hall - and Lily gently patted his shoulder in consolidation.

“He’s shy,” She said by way of explanation, Virgil just sighed again.

—-

“Oh Virgil!” Angel practically sang from the other end of the desk a few days later, “Can you do the coffee run alone today? Ruggy’s having a bit of a crisis over here-”

Ruggy rolled her eyes - Virgil wasn’t sure she was actually having a crisis, but it wasn’t their place to judge. 

“Sure, uh - can everyone write down their orders? I probably won't remember them alone.” Virgil said, standing up, Angel giggled and handed him a piece of paper that already had all the orders written down on it in multiple different handwritings, he frowned, okay - so they had planned this. What was going on? 

“You’re all grown up now,” Lily chuckled, probably misinterpreting his frown, “You’ve got this!”

“...Grown up?” Virgil looked at her confused, as far as he was aware, he hadn’t changed since he got here.

“Wait, did you not know?” Angel gasped, standing up again.

“Virgie you’re like two inches taller than you were before,” Sharkie pointed out, glaring at him - for growing? Which he’d apparently done at some point without his own notice - but didn’t Lily say…

“You’re settling in, kid!” Bel told him, ruffling his hair with a heavy hand that made Vrgil laugh and shove him away…. Maybe those therapy sessions were helping more than they thought? “Now go get that coffee!”

—-

The coffee shop wasn’t busy when Virgil went in, which they thanked the universe for as they nervously handed over the list of eleven wildly different coffee orders, not even realising there was an extra one - and then asked for his own too. He thought belatedly that he wasn’t sure how he would carry them all back to the desk. 

He stared blankly at the three cup holders full of various drinks and two paper bags of snacks that the barista put on the counter. He once again thanks the universe that the coffee shop is fairly empty as the barista looks at him sympathetically.

“Could no-one else on the desk come down today?” She asked, “If I wasn’t halfway through my shift I’d offer to help you take them down myself…”

“That’s okay,” Virgil waved her off, moving everything to the side so that if someone else wanted to order, they could, before sighing and putting a hand on his hip, trying to figure this out.

“Hey cutie, need some help there?” Someone asked from behind him with a voice smooth as butter in a tone that had Virgil blushing - even more so at the nickname. He turned and found himself face to face - more like face to chest, whatever did this guy get from being so tall? With the extremely pretty demon who he’d seen across the lobby in Hell just a few days earlier.

“Ha-h-hi?” Virgil stammered, feeling his train of thought screech to a halt as he looked up at the demon’s face. His sparkling golden eyes seemed to look straight through Virgil’s pale foundation to his hot blushing face - almost as red as the demon’s skin. From this close he could see bright golden freckles littering his skin like tiny stars, and Virgil could see a lot of his skin too - he wore just as little clothing as Remus did. His heart-tipped tail thrashed behind him - in a way Virgil thought seemed almost nervous, but that couldn’t be right. Smiling, the stranger picked up two of the three cup holders after putting one of the bags of pastries and cakes into the satchel he carried around his waist, an action which totally didn’t draw his eyes to somewhere where they were not supposed to be drawn - he thought he might combust with how much he was blushing as he forced himself to meet the stranger’s eyes again. 

“I see I’ve rendered you speechless,” he said, grinning to show pointed fangs - unlike Remus’ full mouth of shark-like sharp teeth, but still dangerous looking in a way that didn’t scare him, “My apologies, but I simply couldn’t leave a cutie like you to struggle after I saw you in distress.”

“I- wha- you-” Virgil stumbled to start too many sentences at once, not sure what he was even trying to say. The demon chuckled, putting his hand on his hip.

“Like what you see, sweetie?” He asked, tilting his head just a little. Virgil choked and covered his face, equal parts embarrassed and flustered by the callout.

“‘M sorry,” Virgil mumbled, trying to get his words back as his face attempted to cool down a little - but a look up to see the demon was still smiling at him just brought it back tenfold.

“What are you sorry for?” There was a hint of genuine confusion in the demon’s voice despite his smile, he tilted his head.

“I was- I was staring? That’s- rude?” Virgil said, now also confused - wasn’t he offended by Virgil blatantly looking at him?

“I’m an incubus, darling, I’m used to it,” he reassured, ruffling Virgil’s hair - someone needs to explain why that feels nice because it did even though Virgil ducked and tried to bat his hand away with a squawk of surprise that made the demon laugh, “As long as you aren’t scared of me - and hey, I was flirting with you, I dug my own grave just a little, what’s your name cutie? My brother just calls you ‘emo’.”

“Wait- you’re Remus’ brother?” Virgil perked up to ask, before immediately getting flustered again as a grin split across his face.

“That’s me,” he grinned, putting down the cup holders and offering his hand for a handshake - his claw-like nails were red but tipped with gold like he’d dipped them in glittering paint, “My name’s Roman.”

“I- ah - I’m uh- Virgil…” Virgil mumbled awkwardly, tentatively taking Roman’s hand to shake only to have their hand grasped tightly and shaken with enthusiasm. Roman’s hand was so warm. 

“Virgil? What a lovely name you have,” Roman said, bringing Virgil’s hand - which he was still holding - up to his lips to kiss, making Virgil blush a brilliant crimson, “You look like a sunrise, darling.”

Virgil could only cough and bow their head as Roman continued, “Pretty pink cheeks and lovely purple hair, hm, oh and your eyes are such a lovely blue, like the early morning sky, how perfect.”

“Oh- shut up,” Virgil mumbled, covering their face with his other hand - the one Roman wasn’t still holding, “Are you gonna help me carry coffee or not?”

Bursting out into boisterous laughter, Roman let go of his hand and picked everything back up. Virgil quickly took the others and thanked the barista - who winked knowingly at him for some reason - and began leading the way back down towards Hell. Many people stopped to stare as they walked, most of them at Roman, who’s tail had wrapped itself around his leg almost as soon as they’d stepped out of the coffee shop. Virgil couldn’t help but notice through quick sneaky glances that Roman didn’t seem half as confident out here in the universal hallway as he had been back in the coffee shop. Virgil debated asking why for a moment, deciding not to pray until they neared the gates of hell and Roman started to hide behind them. 

“Hey Roman?” Virgil said, glancing back at him, the demon perked up - as if Virgil’s attention alone had made him feel better, “Are uh- are you good? I mean- are you okay? You look more nervous than me …”

“Hm? What? No - I’m fine, totally fine,” Roman waved him off with a smile that was much faker than the ones he’d given in the coffee shop, “Why would I not be okay?”

Raising an eyebrow, Virgil looks him over, Roman’s smile slowly drops into an apprehensive expression, “Your tail is wrapped around your leg, your hands are shaking, you’re fidgeting with your claws, you’re trying to hide behind me…”

“Okay okay,” Roman put his hands up, seeming embarrassed, “I’m- I don’t really like being in the lobby of Hell, that’s all.”

Virgil tilted his head, “What - do you know what the problem itself is? Maybe I can help?” He understood anxiety pretty well after all, he hoped he could help.

“Oh it’s really nothing - it’s just - the way some of the souls look at me? It just bothers me, sometimes.”

Virgil frowns, “But- you said that me looking at you didn’t bother you?” they asked, suddenly worried he had actually upset Roman even though he’d said he wasn’t - but Roman shook his head quickly.

“It’s not the same kind of looking,” Roman said, before hiding his face with a hand when one lady from the main like glared at them, Virgil found himself giving her a fierce look in response - what had driven such protectiveness he would probably never know - but now he understood, at least a little. 

Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, that was an issue Virgil was very familiar with - and he could imagine Roman got it a lot worse, considering the way he dressed and the kind of people they got at the desk. He hummed, “Hold on a second - I can- it might help…”

It was a balancing act as Virgil shrugged off his jacket without spilling or dropping anything, Roman watched in surprise as Virgil offered the jacket to him, “It’s uh- it always helps me, when I’m anxious, and it stops people from looking too hard.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Roman shifted the things he was holding and reached out to take the jacket. Where it was far too big on Virgil, it actually fit Roman a lot better, he even pulled the hood up as far as he could with his horns and covered his hands with the sleeves and gave Virgil a small smile.

“Thank you,” Roman said, Virgil noticed his tail slowly uncurling from around his leg to sway side-to-side as it had been back in the coffee shop, “This is- your jacket is very cozy.”

Virgil smiled, “Yeah? I’m glad,” it was strange - it had almost become a habit to let people borrow his jacket when they were more anxious than him - it seemed he was able to be more confident when someone else was less. Even without his jacket, in a sleeveless plum coloured turtleneck, he found he was able to keep his head held high as he led Roman back to the Hellp desk.

“Hey Emo!” Remus yelled as he approached, “Hey RoRo! I almost didn’t recognise you, nice hoodie.”

Virgil could’ve sworn Roman’s face got redder when he quietly pointed out that the jacket was Virgil’s.

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General tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

Hell's Belles AU tags: @awitchbravestheverge @twoalpacas @goldnskyart @anxious-mess19 @doteddestroyer @yourchemicallyimbalancedromance :)

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[oppositegenderscantbefriends]

This debate is lame.

*

Still surprised a ex of mine got i.g maybe exposed on reddit? Not sure if she okay-ed it or what I don't speak to them so not my problem but still weird an a Lil gross to see.

*

I want to fuk around or get into a relationship but at the same time I know I'm not mentally ready nor emotionally available right now for that. I also just don't want to spend money. I really have been selfish with myself and it's nice. But uh yeah I kinda wanna fuk around but that could cost my time away from making money and that doesn't seem worth it or productive. I did a lot to be who I am today an locked away the man wh0re b.s I used to do and idk if I'd wanna let that back out again because I started thinking what if I had a daughter or what about my sister's? If they saw or could see how I am with women would they see that as okay if I wasn't being genuine or honest or loyal? Would they accept a lesser man instead of somebody good in nature? So I stopped an changed my ways. Just didn't want them to grow up valuing something horrible and If I had a daughter I wouldn't want her to let men use her or think that what they do is okay or normal or right because they got something from it. That's just not healthy or okay in anyway.

*

Mental health isn't good again. Just not okay but at the same time I will be. Only because I said and promised I wouldn't do anything permanent. Although the urge is strong. I just know now that it'll pass and that it's just temporary pain. It's not gonna be like this forever. Even though I challenge that idea, I have come to accept it and started hoping it does. Really wish I didn't see and go through and have things done to me in life, seen things i didnt ever think i would, heard things from people i never expected to hear, and experienced stuff I shouldn't have ever felt. I know life isn't easy for many and everyone has a story. I get that, not asking or looking for empathy or sympathy because in my eyes. I still believe it's my fault even though I'm told differently. I still don't see it that way.

*

I wish I had somebody that would show me love thru making me amazing food recipes from insta, Facebook or wherever to just try out. Such a food wh0re. That and having somebody make you something from scratch or just overall homemade always means a lot to me because it doesn't need to be expensive or fancy or any of that. It's the effort and thought of that person taking that much time and thinking that hard about me that makes me happy. The littlest things in life truly mean the most because in my experience, they're always overlooked.

*

I had a bad health scare recently. Blood pressure wasn't lookin right, heart rate was a bit high but all good. Just almost maybe nearly went on a ambulance ride. Couldn't catch my breath, talking was nearly impossible. Heart felt funny a couple days but we good. It's normal feeling now. If it happens again I'll probably be in the e.r or possibly dead if it's as serious as it could be but I don't think it will be. I got really good genetics sooooo yeah. Just sucked feeling my chest that tight, not able to speak an when I did it felt like my chest on the left side was gonna pop or burst an the next day it hurting right in the same area like Lil sharp pains an also slightly unable to catch my breath along with my heart thumpin crazy fast while I barely moved(i.e. walked or picked something up or w.e)

*

Fingers crossed that some broad gives me the green light to truly give a real hard-core experience. I just would like to vent a lot of stress and hate out into some intimacy.

*

Lost weight 188 to 152-155 now. I'm gonna get back to bulking and hitting the gym again since I have a nice solid foundation to work with since I didn't lose too much muscle mass. Gonna have a insane physique and strength when I go back to 160-165. Probably take a couple months since I'm gonna be slowly bulking since I want a bit more muscle than fat this time. Although I might eventually get back to 170ish to just be a solid unit. But yea, the main goal is weight gain with strength training.

*

Might be it? Idk. I can't decide anything anymore. Just feel desolate. Goodnight, gonna hit my cart an fuk off for a while. Maybe re share post on here still but my post will slow or stop. Same across the board of other socials.

P.s. stand up an get help if needed. Be safe in what you do in your day to day. Take care of the only body you have. Don't be weak with people who don't care about or use you. Cut em off and lock in on yourself. Nobody will give you a life worth living, you have to make one yourself.

[dredshirtroberts]

it's been a Fairly Productive Week, I think.

my standards for this have changed, in the past I probably would have moped and said this was a week I didn't do anything. But that would have been just as inaccurate as saying this week was the most productive week I've ever had. So we'll meet somewhere in the middle about it lol.

Got a lot of thoughts and ideas forming and percolating in my brain about things to improve the space i mainly occupy, which is already very energy intensive because i'm unpracticed at thinking about "things that would make my life easier (attainable and reasonable)" and "the future as a good thing". I also did clean a little in the various rooms, I've just* folded all the laundry for the household (i fucking love folding clothes, it's a damn shame i am just physically mentally and emotionally incapable of storing them folded. it is my curse to bear alas), and I got the dishes loaded and running 2 days in a row which is I think a record for me just in general.

My hoodie got it's once-every-three-to-six-month cleaning so it's all fresh and nice now and will be perfect for Snoogling up in tonight when all the responsibilities are done. I've refereed several cat interactions just today, I bought new jeans and new underwear yesterday so I can finally get rid of Old jeans that do not fit and Bad Underwear that are either worn out, falling apart, stained, or otherwise also do not fit.

I also have tentative plans to either

1. read the therapy book to help me therapize myself about my fucking parents (Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents specifically) or 2) finish Christmas Hat numero dos (for the mom this time)

at some point over the next couple few days. So again, like. Definitely a productive week. I also was writing a little bit i nearly forgot, i did that! that's a thing I did! haha!

Anyway, I'm allowed to take a break and rest before needing to get myself together to acquire Partner from Work, and I'm allowed to be sore and tired about it too, because I did Many Things on a week where it was extremely difficult to even just roll over in bed in the mornings (bones kept getting filled with Dead Stars and stars are like very heavy). And despite what my brain will try to tell me, that is a lot and I did it.

*just as in nearly 45 minutes before starting this post

[purplesurveys]

1703

it’s me robyn i’m just ending the ssurveys era

How often do you eat your favourite food? Sushi...maybe once a month? Probably even less than that. It’s not something I have a lot. Good sushi especially is expensive, so it’s not something I’ll always have the budget for.

Have you ever fallen asleep on public transport? (including planes) I have, very few times, but in general it’s something I try to avoid. It’s awkward and I hate the feeling of my head swinging left and right – even lurching forward – when the ride is bumpy.

What room of the house are you in right now? Just in my room.

What was the last tv show you watched? I caught the second half of Beyond the Sea episode of Black Mirror with my sister. Pretty good episode! Made me remember just why I love Black Mirror. The twist at the end was entirely unexpected for me, too.

Have you been using Apple Music? I’m on Spotify and have always preferred Spotify. I remember activating my free trial for Apple Music for what I’m almost certain was a BTS-related reason lol, but I didn’t last beyond a month on it.

Do you pay rent for the place you live? How often? I don’t.

How do you feel at this particular moment? Anything on your mind? My right shoulder is extremely sore. It’s bothersome. Emotion- and mental-wise though, I’m doing fine. I’m happy that it’s the weekend.

Where was the last place you went on vacation/holiday to? Who’d you go with? We had a weekend staycation somewhere south-ish, if that counts. I was with my family – it had been my dad’s last weekend home, so we wanted to maximize the little time we had left.

Does the place you work have music playing? What sort? Well not by default, but people can play their music if they want. No one ever does, but it’s not like we’re prohibited either.

List all the colours you’re currently wearing. Beige and orange. What’s your favourite type of donut? I like all kinds of doughnuts, as long as it is NOT filled; I’ve always disliked those. Too messy and defeats the purpose of having the hole, which to me has always been the fun part of eating a doughnut haha. I also dislike anything with coconut on or in it.

What do you usually eat for breakfast? I skip breakfast most days. If anything, I always just have iced coffee.

Do you have any candles in your bedroom? Do you light them often? I never use candles. I’m too scared of fire to deal with them on a regular basis.

When was the last time you went out for dinner? ^ The aforementioned staycation, a week ago. We went to Gerry’s Grill because we were all craving ginataang kuhol, only to find out they’ve cut it from their menu for what’s apparently been years now D: Anyway what we got was still yummy - we had kare-kare, crispy pata, and grilled squid.

Have you seen all the Hunger Games films as of current? I’ve only seen the first movie. There was a time when one of the movie channels (remember cable?) aired it absolutely nonstop.

What was the last thing you said to someone else in person? I think I was just telling my mom “yeah” when she quipped how cold it was tonight.

Do you use Windows, Mac, Linux, or something else entirely? Mac.

How many times do you call someone on the phone a week? Never. Have you cooked anything today? What was it? I don’t cook.

Do you have a lot of cousins? What are their names? Yeah when you’re Filipino the list of cousins just never ends. I even have first cousins I’ve never met before.

What does your shampoo smell like? It doesn’t really have a distinct scent. It just smells...nice and refreshing, I guess lol.

What about the body wash or soap you’re using at the moment? It smells just like soap. I’m not picky at all when it comes to bathroom products; as long as it gets the job done then I get it.

Have you ever had an exotic or unusual pet? Nah.

Any movies you’ve seen recently that you’d recommend to me? Not really, no.

Why did you last go see a doctor? Besides the dentist, I went to the local animal bite center to get my last wave of shots after Cooper bit me.

What was the last thing you bought online? Wireless headphones.

Where do you usually park your car? We have a carport.

Does your mail get delivered to your house or do you have to collect it? Always delivered straight here. I’m not sure if we have a public facility where mails can be sent otherwise.

Are you more logical or creative? Logical. Creativity is not my forte.

Do you cut tags out of clothing so they don’t itch and bother you? Most of the time, unless it’s a pricey brand.

What is your dream job? Do you think that’s attainable for you? If writing paid well, I would’ve been in media a long time ago so I can write for the rest of my life. It’s all I know and love to do. Alas I’ve had to compromise and stick to a path that to be fair still entails a lot of writing (great for me), but also demands other skills that I’ve since had to pick up and learn.

When was the last time you looked at Facebook, Twitter or etc.? About half an hour ago. It’s 3 AM and all my feeds are understandably dry.

Have you ever been on a train? Where did you go? A few times. Last time was in Bangkok, and we were just travelling back home after one of our Klook tours.

How many times a year do you go on vacation? 2-3 times a year, usually with family. Bangkok really awakened the traveler in me though and I wanna make it a point now to travel with my own funds at least once a year.

Can you curl your tongue or do anything else cool with it? I can just curl it.

What was the last job interview you went to? It was for a global e-commerce site. I was desperate to escape at the time, but that feeling has since considerably died down.

Do you ever just feel like you need to be alone for some reason? Of course. It’s a fairly common feeling I get, especially in a job that squeezes so much socializing out of me on a daily basis.

When was the last time you wore something totally inappropriate for the weather? Does this happen often? I’m not sure...hasn’t happened in a while. The weather doesn’t exactly drastically change often in this part of the world, so I always have an idea what to wear.

The last time you went out of the house, where were you going and what did you do? I was going to the office because I had a scheduled one-on-one with the CEO. Nothing big or serious, she just likes to have catch-ups with her employees from time to time and that’s what we had.

When was the last time someone cancelled plans on you? Were you annoyed? Eh, it was like half a year ago. We invited a few friends for a Christmas gathering, then they canceled the day of. I was definitely a bit peeved then but I’ve since moved past it.

Do you have a friend that has a tendency to “dump” you whenever they get a new partner? I don’t have friends like that. All of them are either in committed relationships by this point, or are too busy to find a partner.

Would you ever want to go on vacation with just one of your parents? In theory it would be nice but realistically I think it’d just be awkward.

In summer, do you prefer to wear dresses or shorts and tops? Dresses! I’ve never been into shorts.

Has someone ever tried to start an argument with you over Facebook? What happened? Yeah, once. I just ignored it because I knew it was pointless to argue with the man who tried to start something with me.

Have you ever had an unusual type of milk (eg. oat, rice, almond)? Almond milk, yes.

If you could experience life as a Disney princess for a week, which princess would you pick and why? Rapunzel. I’d love to hang out with Maximus and Pascal.

How many cans of soda would you say you drink in a week, if any at all? Zero, I hate soda.

When you’re at home, do you spend most of your time in your room? I wouldn’t say so. I like hanging out downstairs too because I regularly play with the dogs and use the TV there too.

If you like to sleep in late, have your parents ever told you off for doing so? I don’t sleep in. You know how revenge bedtime procrastination is a thing? I like to do that with waking up too, if that makes sense lol i.e. I wake up early so I get more out of my day.

How much stuff do you take with you when you go on vacation for a week? I overpack to the point of absurdity. If I’m going away for a week, I will 100% pack clothes good for 1.5-2 weeks instead. I like having my options because I might not always feel my ‘planned’ outfit for the day I’m meant to wear it.

How old is your oldest living relative? To my knowledge that would be my maternal grandmother, but idk. I could possibly have relatives who may be older.

Could you willingly live on a vegan diet? I’m sure I can, as long as the meals are prepared for me. I have no clue how to whip up any vegan dishes.

If you’re a fan of Harry Potter, are you sad that there’ll never be another book or movie? I’m not an HP fan.

If you’re an only child, do you wish you had siblings? If you have siblings, do you get along? I’m great with my younger sister.

How long have you had the shirt you’re wearing? Less than a year.

What happened last time you got drunk? Stayed in the parking lot for like 30 minutes because I thought I lost the money I needed to pay for the parking, and was frantically looking for it around the car (the time alone was enough to make me sober again lol)...eventually I gave up and fortunately the payment booth accepted e-wallets, so I got to get out of there and drive back home. Then the next day I went back to the car to try and look for that stupid P500 bill only to find it in the cup holder -______-

When’s the last time you straightened your hair? Over a decade ago.

Do you bite your toe nails? Oh my. No I don’t.

Last thing you said out loud? I was just singing along to a song.

Last time you laughed your head off? About half an hour ago watching Run BTS. What do you want right this second? I could go for McDonald’s right now, but ehhhh I can hold it out.

How are you sitting? My legs are propped up.

Your mood? Content.

Did you sleep alone last night? Yuppers.

Do you plan on sleeping in tomorrow? I don’t think I’m supposed to be anyway. I’ve got a dentist appointment first thing later.

Do you find piercings attractive? It’s highly subjective for me. A lip piercing might look super hot on someone but meh on another person.

What were you doing last night at midnight? I think I was watching Smosh.

Will you have sexual intercourse within the next two weeks? Nope.

How many cigarettes have you smoked today? Zero.

Do you have a hard time admitting you’re wrong? Sometimes.

Do you like potato chips? They’re fine, but can definitely live without them.

Do you give out second chances way too easily? No.

[helnjk]

A Change of Scenery - C.W.

Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

Requested: yes!

omg hi! I just saw the fanart of the oldest Weasley brothers(🥵🥵🥵) and was hoping you could do a Charlie x reader thing? Maybe the reader is a healer at the sanctuary and Charlie doesn't mind getting hurt because he gets to see her but she literally has no idea he adores her till he spells it out. With promt 42 of your list maybe? Totally cool if you want to leave it out 😁 love you and your work! -🍄

“what the hell were you thinking?”

Word count: 3.1k 

Summary: moving to romania for your absolute dream job, you did not expect to meet a cheeky, flirty redhead along the way. 

Warnings: mentions of injuries, food, & drinks. charlie is a dragon tamer, reader is a healer, of course he’s going to end up with a few cuts and bruises. 

A/N: god i love charlie weasley with all of my heart. that is all. 

prompt is in bold

-

Being connected to and living somewhere very in tune with the earth had always been a dream of yours. It just so happened that your new job had you transferred to the perfect place: Romania. 

Sure, it was quite far from England and had quite a different culture, but the beauty of the mountains and the picturesque scenery made up for it. The fact that you were also working in one of the best medical wings in the country, on a dragon reserve on top of that, was basically your dream come true. 

“Alright, and this right here is your station,” announced the head healer, who insisted you call him Gerry, gesturing to a decently sized office space. “You can decorate it anyway you like, as long as it’s appropriate. Most of the folks around here aren’t locals either, so we’ve got loads of photos up and lots of owls coming in and out everyday.” 

“It’s perfect,” you grinned. 

Gerry left you alone to get settled, and you didn’t want to admit it to anyone, but the first thing you did once he was out of earshot was to squeal excitedly and do a little happy dance. 

It was just all too exciting, really. Dream job, dream location, dream view even. After your burst of excitement, you spent a bit of time just staring out of the window, taking in everything. In the distance, you could even see the silhouette of a dragon peeking over the canopy of trees. The fact that this was going to be a regular occurrence just spurred even more delight in your heart. 

Later in the day, after most of the introductions were made and tours were finished, you could be found familiarizing yourself with the medical wing of the sanctuary. 

“C’mon Gerry, I’m completely fine!” you heard a gruff voice complain. It was coming from the hallway outside, but the accompanying footsteps sounded as if they were on the way to the wing. 

“You know it’s protocol, Weasley,” a very amused Gerry replied as they rounded the corner. 

Beside your boss was one of the most gorgeous men you had ever laid eyes on. With wind ruffled hair the color of sunsets and lightly tanned skin, you almost didn’t notice the small, almost inconspicuous limp he was sporting. It also took you a few seconds to realize that he was probably one of the dragon tamers of the reserve, the first one you were going to meet and treat, it seemed. 

“Ah, Healer L/N, perfect!” Gerry called out to you, “This is Charlie Weasley, one of our on-site dragon tamers.”

“Nice to meet you,” he smiled, holding out his hand for you to shake. 

“You too,” you said in reply, trying not to think about how warm and calloused his hand was in yours. 

“His leg got swiped by the tail of a Chinese Fireball,” Gerry explained as he motioned to the leg that Charlie wasn’t putting much of his weight on.

You could see the redhead roll his eyes, “Honestly, I’ll be fine! This has happened more times than you know.” 

Despite his best efforts, both you and Gerry managed to get Charlie to take a seat on one of the beds that lined the wall. With a sigh, he rolled up his trousers just enough for you to see the area of the wound. 

“Lucky for you, treating this doesn’t take much time,” you smiled. Swiftly, you took your wand out and muttered the correct incantation, “There. Good as new!” 

“If I get to be under the care of Ms. L/N here, I wouldn’t mind getting injured more often,” he flirted, sending you a cheeky wink. 

Gerry just guffawed a loud belly laugh, patting Charlie on the shoulder fondly, “Don’t you go running off with one of my best healers now, Weasley. We just got her!” 

“Don’t worry, Gerry,” you smiled, “I think this one’s too injury-prone to run anywhere.” 

–

As the last work day of your first week at the reserve was coming to an end, you were surprised to see Charlie Weasley knocking on the open door to your office. 

“Hey,” you said, sending him a small smile.

“Hey,” he parroted, stepping inside. 

“Anything I can help you with?” you asked over your shoulder while putting away the last of your files and slipping out of your healer robes, “You’re not injured again are you?” 

Behind you, Charlie gulped as he saw the little sundress you wore underneath. His head spun at the sight of your exposed legs and he nearly forgot what he was about to say. 

“Nah I’ve got a better track record than that, thankfully,” he chuckled. Doing his best to keep the calm facade he had going on, he leant against the doorframe as he asked, “Got any plans tonight? I was wondering if you’d fancy getting a bite to eat.” 

You were caught off guard by how nonchalant and straightforward his invitation was.

“Is this your way of asking me on a date?” you asked, finally turning around to face him once again. 

He raised an eyebrow, “Do you want it to be? Because I just wanted to be a nice person and show you around Romania, but if you’re looking for a date…” 

“Oh shut it, Weasley,” you groaned, “The tab is on you tonight, then.” 

Charlie sent you a grin as you strode out of your office. Despite your faux-annoyance, you were happy to have someone show you around. Being a healer was your dream job, but it did have some setbacks. Obviously, you were needed at the medical wing of the reserve for the majority of the week and that didn’t give you much time to familiarize yourself with the town and the people. 

Because of how remote the reserve was, most staff and employees lived on site. There was a designated area for the many different cabins and living quarters. To give you more of a tour of the little Romanian town nearest the reserve, Charlie offered to side-along apparate you. 

You could feel heat creep up your neck and spread along your cheeks as you gripped firmly on to his muscular arm. 

The sun was just about to set and cast gorgeous hues of orange and pink across the sky as the two of you landed just outside the town. Charlie led you along, showing you where the most important areas were; you saw the town square, the little street bazaars, and the most popular eating places. 

By the time the pair of you got to one of his favorite restaurants, a quaint little place in one of the sidestreets, your cheeks were sore from laughing too much. After the initial awkwardness as you tried to navigate topics that interested the both of you, you found yourselves chatting away animatedly. 

“Yeah, Fred and George were an absolute nightmare when they were little,” he chuckled, fondly recalling the many times he and his older brother Bill were left to babysit their younger siblings, “But they’re great. They’ve got a shop in Diagon Alley now, selling prank products of all things. It’s wild.”

“Your family sounds absolutely lovely,” you said. It warmed your heart seeing how his eyes lit up talking about them. “It must be so hard being so far away from everyone.” 

He nodded slightly before taking a sip of his drink, “Definitely. My first year here was such a big transition. I’m lucky I get to go home every so often.” 

There was a lull in the conversation as you dug into your food, but it was far from the awkward silence you were expecting. 

Maybe working in Romania wasn’t going to be so bad after all. 

–

“Why is it that when you get hurt, I’m always the healer on call?” you sighed playfully as Charlie walked through the door of the medical wing. 

It was the fourth week in a row he had to come and get something patched up. They weren’t major injuries, thankfully, but you had come to learn that the dragon tamers were required to know how to perform the basic healing spells. The things Charlie would come in for were almost always resolved with a quick episkey. 

“You know me,” he joked, taking a seat on one of the empty beds, “Always so accident prone.” 

“Sure.” You rolled your eyes. 

Still, with your wand in hand, you gestured for him to show you where the injury was. 

“I’ve got two things today,” he began. You raised your eyebrows in response. “This is the first.” 

 Charlie quickly rolled the sleeve of his top, his toned arm flexing at the movement. In all the time you had worked at the reserve, which wasn’t that long at all, you still hadn’t gotten used to how fit he was. A quick intake of breath had you re-centering and focusing on the task at hand. There was a small burn on his forearm, not enough to cause too much concern. 

You cast the charm quickly so as not to be distracted further, “There, all done.” 

“There’s still one more place that’s hurt Y/N.” 

By the way Charlie spoke, you knew he was up to something. Inwardly you sighed, “Alright, let’s get to it then.” 

Your heart seemed to stop as he began to unbutton the first few buttons of his top. 

“What’re you doing, Weasley?” you asked, trying your hardest to keep your composure as you got a peek of his very toned chest. 

With a dramatic sigh, Charlie leant back and pointed to an area above his chest, “My heart hurts, Y/N.” 

For a moment you just stared at him, looking absolutely ridiculous in the position he chose to don, eyes blinking owlishly. Truthfully, you didn’t know whether to laugh or to send the strongest stinging hex in his direction. 

“Charlie Weasley, you thank Merlin and Morgana right now that I’m not hexing your balls off,” you said, rolling your eyes. 

“I’m being serious, Y/N!” he continued, “I don’t know if I’ll survive this!” 

“Pity, does that mean I’m losing my ticket to free weekly meals?” she joked, already turning on her heel to get back to what she had been doing before he entered the wing. 

There were sounds of shuffling as if Charlie had gotten back up on his feet again and then, “Definitely not! I’m banking on those meals, one of these days you’re going to be begging me for an actual date. You’ll see.”

“Keep dreaming, Weasley.” 

You sent the redheaded dragon tamer a sarcastic smile, but he just sent you a flirty wink in reply. 

–

“Code white. Need extra hands in the medical wing ASAP.” 

The shimmering white bloodhound soon dissolved into nothing as it delivered its message to you, early one morning. You had just gotten to work, not even in your healer's robes yet, when Gerry’s patronus appeared. 

As you rushed to the medical wing, another patronus made an appearance and rattled off what had happened and who was hurt. Your heart dropped the moment you heard who you were going to be treating. 

“Oh Merlin,” you whispered to yourself the moment you saw the state Charlie was in, “What did you get yourself into?”

In all the time you had been working at the reserve and as a healer in general, it was not unusual for you to treat severe injuries. In fact, you liked to think that when you were faced with someone’s life or quality of life in your hands, you worked even harder and smarter. However, seeing Charlie more battered and bruised than you had ever seen him made your heart pound loudly in your chest. 

“Healer L/N, you’re right on time,” Gerry spoke to you clearly, rapidly explaining the situation and what you needed to do. 

In a flash, you had your wand out and were muttering all the healing spells that came to mind alongside your head healer. You didn’t notice how you were holding your breath and clenching your wandless hand until you let out a sigh of relief when Charlie began to stir. 

“He’s stable,” Gerry announced and released a breath. 

You felt a soft pat on your shoulder as he left you to deal with the patient, deeming it alright for him to step out and get back to his other responsibilities. Carefully, you walked towards the redhead whose eyes were fluttering open. 

“What the hell were you thinking, Weasley?” you murmured softly, your wand sweeping over him one last time to check is vitals. A soft hand reached out to push the stray strands of hair that had fallen in front of his face and you felt him lean into your touch. 

“Y/N?” Charlie mumbled, his eyes still half-closed. 

“I’m right here,” you said in reply. 

“What happened?” he asked, trying to prop himself up but groaning in pain. 

“What happened,” you began, going to help him get to the seated position he wanted to be in. He smiled up at you and you could barely remember what you were trying to say. With a small shake of your head and clearing of your throat you continued, “What happened was that you were being an absolute idiot who absolutely did not call for backup when a nesting mother was going on a rampage.” 

Despite his obvious discomfort, Charlie had the audacity to chuckle slightly, “Sounds about right.” 

“Don’t you dare do that to me again, Weasley,” you admonished, pulling back and shooting him the dirtiest stare you could muster. “You nearly gave me a heart attack. When I got Gerry’s patronus, all I could think about was–” 

As if an electric jolt shocked you, you cut yourself off before anything else escaped your lips. 

“Was what, Y/N?” he asked softly. 

His eyes were shining with something you couldn’t quite name, but the sincerity in his face gave you pause. 

You shook your head, “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” 

Instead of continuing to reprimand him for his foolishness, you busied yourself making sure he was comfortable and that everything was alright. The potions he needed to take later in the day and the different salves to be applied to his skin were placed on the bedside table. Pillows were summoned, fluffed, and placed behind him. 

As you shuffled around the room, purposely ignoring the redhead, his eyes were trained on you. 

The moment his eyes opened and he felt your hand brush gently across his face, he thought he had to have been dreaming. If it weren’t for the ache in his muscles and the sting of his burns, he would’ve believed that he was in some alternate reality wherein he woke up next to you every morning. 

He was tired of waiting for his fantasies to come true, he decided. 

“Y/N.” 

The way he said your name sent shivers down your spine. Your whole body froze for a microsecond before you turned to face him. 

“Yeah, Charlie?” 

“Look at me please,” he begged. 

With a deep breath, your eyes locked with his and you were almost blown away with the look on his face. 

Sincerity pooled in his eyes as they scanned your face, trying to see if your own expression gave anything away. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights, unable to move or look away from him. 

“Tell me what you were thinking,” he whispered gently. 

It was now or never.

“All I could think about was how,” you gulped, taking a steadying breath, “How you could’ve died or gotten so hurt, when I hadn’t even had the chance to tell you how I felt about you.” 

You could hear Charlie’s sharp intake of breath and you had to look away, unable to face the rejection you were ultimately going to hear. 

“Y/N–” 

“And, and I know that you don’t feel the same–”

“Y/N–”

“But, just seeing you lying there–”

“Y/N!”

Charlie’s voice rang through the whole wing, a sharp contrast to the otherwise silent space. You sucked in a deep breath, surprised. 

“Y/N you have to know I’m absolutely mad for you,” he said clearly. 

You blinked furiously at him. 

“You-I, what?” 

Charlie tried to reposition himself so that he could face you properly, but you could see that he was still in a bit of pain. Instead of letting him maneuver himself uncomfortably, you placed a soft hand on his shoulder before taking a seat by his legs. 

Immediately, he went to take your hand in his. “I think you’re absolutely breathtaking, and talented, and passionate. I just haven’t had the balls to ask you out on a real date.” 

“Then what are you waiting for, Weasley?” You offered him a small smile, glancing back down at your intertwined hands. 

The smile he sent you left you breathless. 

–

“You ready to go?” Charlie asked, leaning against the doorframe with his legs crossed just like when he had visited your office that first week. 

A small grin inched its way on to your face at the sight of your boyfriend. His hair was just a tad bit windswept, adding to the rugged look he insisted he could pull off (and he definitely did, you just didn’t like feeding his ego too much). 

“Just about,” you smiled. “Let me get out of these stuffy robes first.” 

And, just like the first time he had knocked on the door to your office, you turned to shrug off your uniform and hang it up in one of the hooks beside your desk. Instead of keeping his thoughts to himself, Charlie grinned widely and whistled at the sight of you in your dress. 

Just as you were about to chide him for being inappropriate, strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you backwards. A small ‘oof’ escaped your lips as your back made contact with Charlie’s strong chest. 

“Charlie!” you slapped his arm lightly, “C’mon, I’m still at work!” 

“What so I can’t show my girlfriend some appreciation for being absolutely drop dead gorgeous?” he mumbled, pressing soft kisses on the joint where your neck met your shoulders. 

You rolled your eyes, “You know I love a good compliment. I would just rather you do it outside my place of work.” 

With a chuckle, Charlie released his grip on your waist. “Alright, alright.” 

“Just for that, the tab’s on you tonight, Weasley.” 

“Ah so the usual, love?” 

“Of course.” 

Charlie held his hand out for you to take, and unlike the first time he took you out, you allowed yourself to blush, take his calloused hand in yours, and press a soft kiss on his lips. 

–

General taglist: @expectoevans @george-fabian-weasley @gxthsanrio @slytherinscribbles @harpyloon @nuttytani @mesmerisedangel @amourtentiaa @sarcasticallywitty15 @lumos-barnes @cruciostyles @writingsomewrongs

Charlie taglist: @pinkypurplemagic @lifeofkaze @oldschoolkiddo

[nobutfredweasleytho]

YOU JUST DON’T LISTEN(F.W)

Summary: Fred’s ex girlfriend writes him a letter to explain the how him using her wrecked her emotionally.

Warnings: angst, like a lot of angst, depressed Y/N, mentions of self doubt, a little swearing, mentions of parents not loving correctly, used reader. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: Major thank you to Gabriella @onlyfreds for being an amazing person and encouraging me to write whatever this mess is. I am forever grateful to you

(The font is terrible Im sorry im just getting used to working on tumblr)

Fred Weasley checked the muggle clock on his nightstand. 10:30 AM. His mom will call him for breakfast anytime now. He has been awake for quite some time if he can even count the 30 minutes he tried to sleep but couldn’t, not when every time he tries to close his eyes his mind and eventually dreams are clouded by her. By the last time he looked at her, how devastated she looked, How her face was wet from her tears and her eyes bloodshot red, but the thing Fred will never be able to forget is her voice. How raw and vulnerable she sounded while saying the most horrible thing’s anyone has ever said to him, but he can’t blame her, he has no one to blame but himself because in the end it was he who caused all of this and now its come to bite him in the ass. He hears the door open and his twin brother George enters.

“Mom says breakfast is ready and she wants you downstairs. She says she’ll drag you herself if you don’t show up again today.”

“Tell her I’m not hungry and I’ll come grab a bite later.” I really don’t feel like being surrounded by other people right now. Not in this pathetic state I’m in. Besides it will take me willpower I don’t have to not hex Ron into oblivion.

“Well she will not take no for an answer and I wont either. What’s done is done now and you’ll have to face the world someday so start with your own family because everyone down there is worried sick about you and the least you can do is show your face once in a while so they know you haven’t died of starvation or sleep deprivation.” George has worry written all over him and I’m sure the rest of the family has it too. I feel even more like shit for worrying them.

“Fine. But I come back here if she is mentioned are we clear?”

“We weren’t gonna mention Y/N anyway now lets go moms worried sick for your dumbass.”

Breakfast was going smoothly with Ginny and Ron being exited for Quidditch season, Harry and Bill discussing the unfortunate events of the Triwizard tournament last year, dad asking Hermione about a rubber duck whatever that is, but the most shocking thing is mom asking me and George about the joke shop products. George is doing most of the talking but still the fact that shes even asking is awesome. I was finally feeling peaceful this whole winter break until I heard a hoot outside the window.

“I thought it was Tuesday but since mail is here does it mean its Friday already? Oh how fast time is going.

“No Arthur honey you are right it is Tuesday, Bill or George can one of you see if that owl has the owners name attached to it and bring whatever letter he has here to see who is it for.”

Bill got up from his seat and went to the window next to the countertop to look at the mystery owl. “Do we even know a Y/N Y/L/N?”

The room went quiet. The only thing that could be heard was the owls hoot asking for its treat. Bill seemed not to realise this as he took the letter from the owl, gave him a treat and sent it on its way.

“To Fred Weasley from Y/N Y/L/N… Who’s Y/N is she the girl you’ve been crying over this whole time huh Freddie?” Bill chuckled but I just grabbed the letter. I had no time to even be mad at him because once again my mind fogs up with only her. I couldn’t help but feel relieved and the happiest I felt in a long time. She has forgiven me. Y/N forgave me. That has to be it. Why else would she send me a letter?

“I had a great time with you guys but there’s important matters for me to attend so I have to go to now. Thanks mom the breakfast was amazing as always.” And with that I sprinted towards my room, locked the door and examined the letter in my hands. It was a bunch of them in here. I went to mine and George’s worktable threw some papers that were on top of it to make room for these letters and carefully opened the envelope.

The first thing that I grabbed was a photo. It was a polaroid of me and Y/N on the Gryffindor common room. Happiness filled my heart when I started remembering this night. I looked at the back of the polaroid and surely enough there was a writing on it.

Fred and Yn on the Gryffindor common room at 1 AM the night she turned 17. Listening to ABBA’s “Dancing Queen”. Picture taken by major 3rd wheel George Weasley.

Tears filled my eyes when I remember this night. It was the night I looked at her the way I always should have. Not as a replacement of someone who didn’t care about me.

The next one was also a polaroid photograph but this one I don’t remember being taken. It’s a picture of Y/N teaching me how to play the guitar. I can make up that we are in her dorm but not more as the picture is taken in black and white. I look at the back and surely this one also has a writing on it but the handwriting doesn’t look familiar at all.

A drunken Y/N accompanied by a even drunker Fred trying to play the guitar in the middle of the night. If I fail my charms exam tomorrow I’m killing you both but right now you two look adorable. Picture taken by Cho Chang.

The third one is an actual letter. I chuckle looking at the handwriting. Always so precise and not even one line out of place. I always thought Y/Ns handwriting always contradicts her hot headed persona but it’s actually really cute. I start reading the letter and my heart stops.

Dear Freddie,

I can only imagine the shock that receiving a letter from me would cause you right now especially after our last conversation.

But I have a lot to get off of my chest and I wont be able to move on if I haven’t said it all. Call me a coward but I was really scared to ask you to meet me so I can say it in person, but maybe that’s what I have always been. A coward. A coward because I get scared when someone wants to enter my life, a coward because I hate trying new things at the expense of failing, a coward because I should be able to confront people who brought darkness and sadness to my life.

But one thing I will admit Fred Weasley is that I wasn’t a coward when It came to loving you. It was the first time that I let someone come into my life and heart the way you did, and it will probably be the last. Throughout our “relationship” if you can even call it that as it was more of you customizing me to be her, to be someone I’m not. But that’s why you even talked to me is it, because I reminded you of her.

The signs were right in front of me and I feel stupid enough not to have seen them. But I guess people are right when they say love is blind. Love is such a funny thing to me as the first time I experienced the right kind of love was through you. But that was me creating stuff in my head. You didn’t love me no, you loved the idea of me. But I loved you. I loved you more than anything or anyone I have ever loved, I loved everything about you. But you just don’t listen. You don’t listen to anyone around you. Not George, not your other siblings, not Lee or any of your other friends for that matter, not your professors, but most importantly you don’t listen to me.

You didn’t listen when I told you that the love my parents gave me was only because I reminded them of my brother, the love my old friends back home gave me was one of interest. Everywhere I go no matter who I talk to no one will love me for me. I came to accept that until I met you.

You were funny and crazy and brave and oh so gorgeous. You were basically everything I looked for in… well everything. In a friend or in a partner it doesn’t matter. I thought you saw me for who I am. A broken teenager with issues but that at the end of the day was deserving of love. Oh how wrong I have been but no more wrong than you. You knew this but you just didn’t listen.

That makes us both horrible people now does it. Me who thought you were some kind of savior or some kind of saint and selfishly wrapped myself around your love and you who used me because I remind you of your ex girlfriend who broke your heart. But mine is excused I feel like and yours isn’t.

You would have kept me going for who knows how long just so you can live your imaginations you had for someone else.

Did you think about her the first time we slept together?

Was I not enough for you Freddie?

Was I too clingy too soon?

Is it my hot temper that gets the best of me?

So many questions will be left unanswered on my end because frankly, I never want to speak of you again. Sure I am deprived of love but I will not take it if its not directed directly at me.

I still care about you and will continue to support you and George on whatever you set your mind into. I was waking through Diagon Alley last week and saw this little store with a “for sale” sign. It’s right in the middle of Diagon Alley. I hate how my first thought went that you would have loved it but I seem to do that a lot recently.

I’ll get dressed and think would Fred love this skirt or this shirt.

I start applying lipstick and I’ll think will Fred love this color.

I start eating and I’ll think does this look good enough that Fred would’ve stolen a piece of it when I’m talking to Ginny.

I don’t even know why I am telling you this. How pathetic I’ve become clinging into someone that doesn’t want me.

Anyway I’ve probably bored you enough with my ranting but I wouldn’t have been able to move on unless I said everything that felt heavy on my heart. I also attached some photos I thought you’d like to keep seeing as now you can see yourself with Kayla without having the burden to be near me.

Say hi to your siblings and Harry for me.

Have a nice life,

Y/N

[soramei]

Intentional - Part 5

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn

Warnings: cursing, eventual smut

Word Count: 4.0k

Masterlist

A/N: yeah so about that upload... i was really busy this whole week but i hope to start uploading mondays again! thanks for understanding!!

Taglist (reply to be tagged!): @planetdemon​ @hvunvely​ @fluffybitch0325​ @fashi0nablee @juststop88 @straykisz @theultimaterad @margaritas-en-la-montania @meowtella

There was a pause in the phone call.

You started biting your nails, instantly regretting what you had just done. Basking in your stupidity, you could only wait for his response, for it was too late to retract what you had just said. Your day must have been worse than you thought. It must have been so bad that you had the nerve to ask Bang Chan — an idol, a person with a strict schedule, somebody who you had an argument with — to come over to your pathetic little apartment.

You kept nibbling on your fingers.

“I’ll get my jacket.”

You froze, eyes wide.

“Huh?” You were bewildered. You weren’t even expecting an answer, much less this.

“It’s cold this late at night,” he explained, “I’ll be there soon.”

You didn’t know what to say. You heard rustling on the other side of the call.

“Wait, I’ll tell you my address,” you blurted out.

“You did,” he said.

You frowned, trying to remember if you did or not. That’s right. You blushed at the memory of your first day of work.

“Oh yeah, umm, I’ll hang up now.” You awkwardly said, hanging up before Bang Chan could fit another word in.

You were a statue in your own apartment, clinging on to the last words exchanged on your phone. In actuality, you didn’t know why you asked him to come over. It was just blurted out in the moment. Or maybe it was a result of your extremely frustrating day. Either way, you felt extremely embarrassed that you did so, especially so late at night.

You started boiling some water, still trying to rationalize what you had just done. This was normal for friends, right? Na-eun and Yoojin came over just yesterday and you were friends with both of them. You knew for a fact that you two were friends, but you still couldn’t find an explanation for the strange feeling in your chest whenever you were around him.

Turning your phone on, you checked your face in the selfie camera. It was a miracle that your makeup didn’t smudge off. You thanked your new ‘CLIO’ foundation cushion, it looked like all that time you spent doing your makeup didn’t go to waste. You stared at your reflection for a couple more seconds before turning your phone off. Why did it matter what you looked like anyways? You wiped off any remaining lipstick with the back of your hand.

The kettle started rumbling, letting you know that the water was ready. You took out your mug to prepare some tea. It was a bad idea to have tea this late at night, but there was something about your mother’s tea that could knock a grown man out.

Sipping your tea, you turned on Youtube to an episode of a Korean web-drama that was getting really popular. It was another one with some rich CEO and a clumsy average girl, but you still watched, fully enamoured. On the recommendations list, there was a video with Felix — the other person you saw at the cafeteria on your first day — on the thumbnail. I can never escape from work, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes.

You clicked on it anyways, just to pass the time. Watching through the video, you were shocked by the production value. Well, that, and Bang Chan. Whether it was hair and makeup or just his acting, he was so different from the person you knew in real life. You were in awe by his natural charisma gleaming at you through the screen as it was a rare quality that few people you knew possessed. Embarrassingly, you found your eyes drawn to only him in every group shot. He looked good in an apron.

You got distracted by more random videos before clicking back on your drama. The next episode was just about to start when the buzzer to your apartment rang.

It was Bang Chan.

Hurriedly, you shuffled towards your door. With your hand on the handle, you took a deep breath before opening the door.

“Hey,” you smiled.

“Hey,” he smiled back. He was leaning over you, his forearm on the doorframe. His coat was bulky, almost engulfing his whole upper body. He was wearing the same beanie you saw on multiple occasions, and in his hand was a white plastic bag.

You stepped aside, silently gesturing for him to come inside. He took your hint and sauntered in the room, head turning left and right to observe his surroundings.

“It’s not much,” you blushed, realizing how small your apartment really was. You could basically see all your belongings from the center of the room.

“No, it’s cute.” Bang Chan looked at you, taking his hat off. His dimple peaked out. “I brought some leftovers from that barbecue place. The kids and I went there after our shoot today.”

So that was what the bag was. With only food on your mind, you rushed to help hang Bang Chan’s coat before setting the table up.

The food was really good. They were leftovers, but it was so good. Stuffing a bite of pork belly in your mouth, you sighed. Where was this food earlier today?

“It’s good, right?” Bang Chan asked whilst chewing on a piece of meat. “I’ll take you next time.”

It was like he read your mind. You nodded eagerly in response, to which Bang Chan replied with a smirk.

“So, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck, “how was your date today?”

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to remember that embarrassment of a night. It was such a pity too, because that man was probably the most gorgeous man you’ve ever witnessed. You swore he had just stepped out of a webtoon when you first met him.

“It was alright,” you shrugged. It was difficult to reflect on the date without putting a damper on your mood, but maybe vocalizing it would have helped ease your discomfort. “He compared me to a model, you know.”

Bang Chan chuckled, making you look up in confusion.

“Was it because you looked exactly like the model?”

“No,” you replied.

His face immediately fell. “You’re kidding, right? Y/n, tell me you don’t believe anything that loser said. He’s got to be something below garbage if he was comparing two women.”

“Thanks, Chan.” You tried to force a grin on your face. “I appreciate it.”

There was a pause.

“I know my opinion means nothing, but Y/n, I think you’re beautiful.”

You stared into Bang Chan’s eyes, frozen like a statue. Your heart was beating so loud that you could hear it more than you could feel it. He stared back at you from across the table; mouth parted, breaths uneven.

You’ve received many compliments before, to which you would always reply with a smile and a quick ‘thank you’. However, it felt as if your brain malfunctioned in this moment and your heart was the only thing keeping you alive. You could still feel your body, but you couldn’t think.

“Thank you, Chan.” You awkwardly coughed, blushing profusely. Immediately focusing your eyes at the table, you couldn’t bear to keep looking at him.

The two of you ate in silence, with only the tapping of chopsticks adding to the ambience of the room. You wanted to make conversation with him, but you did not want to be the first one to break the silence. It frustrated you that you were so shy right now as you’ve never been like this back home.

To heck with it, you thought. There was no need to be shy around him.

“So,” you still couldn’t look him in the face, “any shows you’ve been watching lately?”

Small talk was good. You could do small talk.

“Actually, I’ve been wanting to watch this Transformers movie for quite a while.”

“Transformers?” You’ve never heard of that one. It must’ve been an American movie.

“Seriously?” his eyes widened. “You’ve never seen Transformers before? Oh, we’ve gotta watch it now.”

“You wanna?” you smiled. “I haven’t used my TV since moving in.”

“Mhm, let’s do it.” He stuffed the rest of the leftovers in his mouth before standing up and clearing the table.

You watched him clear the table in a trance. You should have offered to help since it was your own home, but watching the veins on his hands appear and disappear was way more interesting. Watching him, you suddenly remembered the hoodie.

“Oh, that’s right!” You exclaimed, shuffling over to the bag with the hoodie in it. Taking Bang Chan’s black hoodie out, you held it up to him with both hands.

He looked down at you and chuckled.

“Keep it,” he took it from your hands and slipped the hoodie over your head. “At least until you buy a new jacket.”

“I will.” You rolled the sleeves of his hoodie higher to show your hands. You turned the light off, leaving only the floor lamp to illuminate your apartment. Grabbing the remote from your coffee table, you summoned Bang Chan over to the couch.

You turned on the TV, fooling around with the remote control for a few seconds before giving up.

“I give up.” You sighed. Pouting, you handed the remote over to Bang Chan. He took it from you and started reading the buttons.

“Netflix, right?” Bang Chan asked, to which you nodded. “There we go.”

He scrolled through the titles, looking for the coveted movie. Once he found the movie, he quickly selected it and turned the subtitles on. That was nice of him, you thought. Although you also studied english in university, it was nowhere near the level of watching a full english movie.

The title sequence started and you tried to immerse yourself in the movie. You watched in awe, surprised at the fast pace of the action already.

Fully engrossed, you started to sink your back into the couch. Half-way throughout the title scene, you felt Bang Chan stretch his arm behind you to rest on the back pillow. Suddenly, you started feeling too aware of your surroundings. You sat up straighter.

Throughout the whole movie, you caught wafts of Bang Chan’s cologne everytime he moved. He smelled like safety and familiarity.

You turned your head up a little to get a glimpse of his profile, mapping out every edge and curve of his face. The light illuminated the tip of his nose, along with his dewy cheekbones and chin. The plum of his lips were let slightly open, allowing his teeth to peek out slightly. You unconsciously let out a sigh.

“Something wrong?” He turned his body to face you.

You shook your head and focused on the movie.

The rest of the movie was pretty good, although it lost you at parts. You watched the end credits in silence, not knowing what to say.

“So,” Bang Chan cleared his throat beside you, “I should get going now. Since it’s late.”

You turned your head to face him, not realizing how close the two of you had physically gotten throughout the movie. Looking up at him, your face was inches away from his. His face was almost enveloped by the darkness of your apartment. You heard his breathing get heavier.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “you should.”

He didn’t get up though.

You heard his staggered breath as you kept looking in his eyes. The end credits had long been over by now. Your own breath was just as shaky and you heard your heart beat out of your chest.

He started leaning in. Slowly.

Your eyes widened. You gulped, your nerves snapped you back to reality all of a sudden. Wasn’t he supposed to be your friend? This wasn’t what friends did… Right?

Clearing your throat, you leaned back shyly.

“You should go. I don’t want the others to notice you’re gone.”

Silence.

“Yeah.” Bang Chan’s lips flattened in a line. Without another word, he stood up and walked towards your door.

You followed him in silence, hoping to at least send him off. Wrapping your arms around your torso, you watched as he put his boots on in the dark. He tied his laces, and with a nod, he opened the door and stepped out.

You were left with a sour taste in your mouth and a cloudiness in your head. Still standing in front of your door, you tried to process what had just happened. However, you couldn’t. All you could think about was the soft curls of his hair, the delicate threads of his eyelashes, and his lips. The dusty rose of his lips. The parting of his lips. Inviting you in.

You were frozen, looking at nothing particularly. The only thing on your mind was Bang Chan.

The door opened.

“Hey, sorry, I forgot my jack-”

His sentence never got a chance to complete itself as you rushed to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. As your lips touched his, you felt a fire ignite in you like nothing you’ve felt before. Your fingers clawed at the nape of his neck, wanting more. Wanting to be closer.

Almost immediately, Bang Chan responded. He was taken by shock at first, but his hands didn’t waste any time to grip your waist. You felt the muscles of his shoulders tighten as he pulled you closer.

He moved you back into your apartment by the waist, lips never leaving your own. You blindly shuffled backwards, only focused on trying to get closer to him. If that was even possible.

You ignored the clunking of his boots against your clean floor, allowing him to guide you to the couch. A whimper left his lips as you used your hand to comb through his hair, pulling it. His soft brown curls were silk against your fingertips.

The back of your legs hit the couch and he turned you around so he could sit on the couch. Your lips finally left his. You gasped for air, trying to steady your deep breaths.

Bang Chan’s breathing was synchronized with yours, his equally as unsteady. He reached his hands out again, grabbing your waist and pulling you on top of him. You were a ragdoll, responding to whatever he wanted to do to you.

With each knee on either side of him, you gripped his jaw and kissed him again. The fire inside of you instantly reignited. It was addicting.

The two of you didn’t dare to separate from each other, only parting to gasp for air every now and then. Even in the dark, you could imagine the plum of his lips and the threads of his eyelashes. This drove the fire in you more.

“What if the boys realize you’re gone?” you breathed out the next time you parted from his lips. They were most likely sleeping, but the thought still worried you.

“Fuck them.” Bang Chan exhaled. Grabbing the back of your neck, he reconnected his lips with yours. You gladly complied.

His sloppy kisses slowly moved from your lips to your jaw, then to your neck, eliciting a soft whimper from your throat. This seemed to only edge him on as kept leaving sloppy kisses against your neck, all the while running his hands up and down your waist.

His cologne surrounded you, keeping you safe. Soon later, the adrenaline left the two of you, leaving only the sound of heavy breathing to fill the room. You brushed your thumb under his eye to which he deeply inhaled.

“Chan?” you said. He was leaving kisses all over your collarbone.

“Hmm?” He didn’t seem to pay much mind to what you were saying.

“It’s half past three. I really think you should get going.” You didn’t want him to leave, but you were almost sure he had another packed schedule for tomorrow.

“Mhmm.” Your words went in one ear and out the other as he made his way up your neck again. You couldn’t help but close your eyes and let out a small moan.

“C’mon, get up. How did you even get here, by the way?” It took everything in you to break away from his touch, but you were starting to get sleepy.

“Taxi.” He said, helping you get up from his lap. He stood up after you, brushing his hand against your waist one last time before making his way over to his jacket.

“You’re allowed to ride a taxi?” You tilted your head, sceptical.

He slipped his jacket on.

“No.” He peppered little kisses on your cheeks. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that now.”

You giggled, pushing him by his shoulders out the door. He played along, pretending to stumble with every step he took back.

“Text me when you get home,” you said, repeating what he said to you on your first day of work.

He nodded in response and winked before turning around to head home. As soon as the door shut, you slapped both hands against your face. Your little act of impulse had spun your head in spirals. You didn’t know whether to feel relieved at the fact that Bang Chan reciprocated your impulsive actions, or to worry that you had not only just kissed your coworker — but also a freaking idol. No one — not Manager Chen, your friends, or even anyone in the general public — could know about this. If they did, both your careers would be screwed.

You doted on this thought as you got ready for bed, only the worst possible outcome came to mind. If either your manager or his manager knew about what happened tonight, you could get fired. Or even blacklisted. You sat in bed, nervously biting your nails.

Your phone buzzed.

Bang Chan: Hey, I got home. Nobody’s awake… ^^

Bang Chan: Don’t think too much, alright? It’s late, go to sleep…

You felt relief reading his text. For some reason, he knew you were overthinking your actions. You decided to listen to his words and go to sleep.

The next day, Sunday, was very uneventful compared to the day before. You texted Bang Chan back when you woke up, but because of his busy schedule, he hadn’t had the time to reply yet.

Yoojin called in when you were eating lunch, asking about your date. You told her the truth, explaining how there would definitely not be a second date with that man. She sounded disappointed and vehemently tried to set you up with another man in her pool. You politely declined, thinking about your restless night with Bang Chan.

You finished some work ahead of time to free up the next week. Since you were invited to work with Manager Chen at the content shooting, you assumed that you could lessen your work stress ahead of time.

The shooting days were allocated for Friday and Saturday, with there being an overnight stay at the mountains. Whilst you didn’t know the arrangements for Stray Kids, you were informed that the production crew booked a small lodge for the team. You were excited to not only see a behind the scenes of a real shoot, but to also possibly form a closer relationship with Manager Chen.

You were thankful that you did some work ahead of time as Monday’s workload was so much lighter than usual. People were still coming to you with their ideas for the project, but with your other work done, you had the time to go through everybody’s ideas.

You didn’t hear from Bang Chan the whole day, which was nothing out of the blue. You remembered him showing his schedule to you once. The amount of things he had to do everyday had your eyes bulging out from their sockets. All of a sudden, you were thankful for your nine-to-five job.

The next couple of days ran the same way as your Monday, with you easily breezing through your workload. Since you had more time during your breaks at work, you took to exploring the part of the building that you could. You admired all the art, the trophies, the awards and memorabilia. Of course, you also spent more time with your new friend Na-eun.

On Thursday, the day before the shoot, you were helping the producers by translating some notes for the script. All was going smoothly, when you got a text.

It was from Bang Chan.

You weren’t going to lie; you were curious as to what he sent you. He was basically silent the whole week so far, and if you were being honest, you missed hearing his voice. And seeing his face. And feeling his hands brush against your waist.

Bang Chan: Come to my recording room… I’ve got something to show you.

Your eyes lit up right away, curious as to what he wanted to show you. Quickly checking the time, you decided to take your lunch break then and there. After all, you didn’t have much work left for the day anyways.

Locking up your computer, you zoomed inconspicuously past all the other cubicles and made your way to the elevators. You weaved through the hallways of his floor, praying that your memory didn’t escape you. It seemed like your memory was on your side today as you found yourself in front of a familiar set of doors. You didn’t bother to knock before going in.

Inside was Bang Chan: feet up on the desk, drinking from his iced coffee, concentrating on his producing software. You smiled. He looked so comfortable, even in an ‘office’.

He had his headset in, and didn’t seem to notice that you had entered. You went up behind him and tapped his shoulder. He turned around, and immediately threw his feet off the desk and stood up upon seeing that it was you. You smirked.

“I should really put a ‘please knock’ sign on the door.” He cursed under his breath. He reached behind you to close the door.

You giggled.

“So, what do you have to show me?” you wondered aloud.

“A new song. Since the filming is tomorrow, the producers put me on a time crunch to finish the song by today.”

So that was why he was so busy, you thought. You didn’t realize how the sudden filming would have impacted his schedule for the month. Especially since it would take up two whole days.

He let you sit in his chair, and hovered over you to press play on the song. His chair smelled like his cologne.

As he was playing the song, your eyes drifted up to see his face. The face — even after only four days — you missed. The dark circles under his eyes were prominent. That, along with his disheveled hair, told you that he truly was dedicated to his work. You imagined him sitting where you were, two in the morning, sipping on his iced americano.

“You like it?” His eyes drifted towards you, resembling a puppy bringing a ball back to its owner.

“It’s amazing. I don’t know how you managed this in just a few days,” you said. And you were sincere too. You couldn’t imagine yourself doing any of this.

“Eh, you know, late nights.” he shrugged. “Wanna see another?”

You nodded, and the two of you began listening to another one of his songs. You listened in silent wonderment.

However, the silence didn’t last long as the two of you soon found yourselves on the couch: hands all over each other, lips the same. You were lying underneath him, his arms resting on either side of you to hold his weight up. Your lips never left his as you ran your hands up and down his defined biceps.

The two of you couldn’t stay away from each other. The sound of the songs that he had put on shuffle filled the room, along with a fleeting sigh of moan every now and then. Bang Chan’s hand had started wandering up your blouse when, all of a sudden, the door opened.

“Hey, I have the lyrics h-” He stopped mid-sentence, eyes wide.

Crap.

[lucy90712]

Sapnap- face cam

Wc- 1987

Warnings- none (I think)  I've been up for almost 30 hours mainly because I was doing college homework all of last night and because my boyfriend Sapnap was streaming and being very loud which kept me up in the first place which was why I did my homework anyway. I love Sapnap to death but sometime he can be a little annoying but I put up with it.

Sapnap only got into bed at 4am and he's still asleep now at 11pm meanwhile since then I've finished a big essay, cleaned the apartment, done another essay and then made breakfast for myself which I'm eating now. I wish I could be this productive when I've had sleep but somehow it never works like that.

Eventually Sapnap came downstairs sauntering because he was still sleepy, some of us wish. He walked right over giving me a hug from behind as I washed some dishes and gave me a kiss on my cheek.

"Morning babe you alright?" He asked

"Yeah I'm good a little tired but I'll live" I replied

"Just to let you know I'll be streaming later" he said

He always tells me when he's streaming because his fans don't know about us and he doesn't want to accidentally reveal anything to protect me which is cute but it gets hard when he streams for hours on end and I need help with something. Sapnap is good about to it though if I really need help I either text him or message him on discord and he'll help but he sometimes doesn't read his messages.

I gave him some of what I made for breakfast and he sat down to eat it while I talked at him about college work that he pretends to care about. He's very supportive of all my college work and he'll let me get on with things if I have to but he will also talk about things with me if I want to. Thats one of the best things about Sapnap is his ability to adapt to how I'm feeling at any given moment and I like to think I'm at least ok at doing the same for him.

After breakfast Sapnap cleaned the rest of the dishes and let me take a shower which was nice and relaxing and woke me up a little bit as the cold water at the start hit my back, usually I would not be under the water as it warmed up but today I felt like I needed a shock to my system to get it going for another day. I had more homework and a lecture to do today so there was no chance for a nap until the evening when it's kind of pointless anyway.

After my shower I got dressed into some sweatpants and a t-shirt because it was comfy for sitting down all day in. Sapnap had got my laptop ready for me and had got me a glass for water which was sweet of him. My lecture was in about 2 minutes so I logged onto the class ready for it to start, when it did I put my headphones on so that Sapnap didn't have to listen to my teacher going on about whatever we were doing today, he always says he doesn't care but even I don't want to listen to it sometimes so there is no way he does.

As I tapped away making notes Sapnap put his hand on my knee rubbing his thumb in circles comfortingly. He does this all the time whether its sat on the sofa like right now or while we're driving somewhere but its safe to say that I love it, it lets me know he's there in a weird way it's like he's acknowledging my presence. At one point he got up and went to the kitchen and when he came back he had my favourite snack which he put between us so that we could share. What a lovely boyfriend he's being today, I'm starting to wonder what he thinks he's done that's he's trying to make up for.

My lecture finally finished after what seemed like and age so I went to get straight on with my last essay that needed submitting by the end of the month but Sapnap shut my laptop before I could get the document open, he grabbed my hand and pulled me up from the sofa and towards the door.

"Come on were going out for a walk" he said

"Why, I have an essay to work on" I whined

"You'll never leave the house if I don't drag you out so come on" he said handing me my shoes

I put them on and grabbed a jacket because according to the weather it was meant to be a little bit chilly out today, Sapnap grabbed the house keys and pushed me out the door onto the street. We don't often go out on walks because neither of us like leaving the house that much if we were to go out it would most likely be in the car to just go for a drive.

The two of us walked down the street holding hands and swinging them back and forth as we took steps forwards. Sapnap clearly had a good idea of where he wanted to go because he was making turns all over the place. Eventually we ended up at the target not that far from our place and we went in looking at everything like you do in target and we topped up on some snacks for a movie night soon.

We left with our snacks and Sapnap dragged me to the nearest park so we could sit outside and get a bit more fresh air. The nearest park is actually the one that we went to on one of our first dates so we have good memories there, on one of the benches by the duck pond is where we had our first kiss and many more after that.

I always love going back to that park with Sapnap because each time we reminisce on the past and talk about the future which seems to change each time we come here. We walked to the exact bench that we had our first kiss on and sat down looking at the scenery. It had changed quite a bit since the first time we were here, there used to be a little play park for kids in the distance but now thats gone and is replaced with a small flower garden instead.

The first time we came here and we talked about the future all we wanted was to still be together after we left for college which of course happened, then the next time we wanted to move in together which we did and now. I'm not really sure what the future holds for us but I'm sure it will be interesting.

"Wow its been so long since we came here we have changed so much and achieved everything that we wanted to" he said

"I know its so weird to think that our last goal was to move in together and now we have been living together for 5 months where do you think we will end up in the future?" I asked

"On man I have no idea but I would love to still be living together and maybe in a bigger place and maybe even be engaged" he said

This shocked me I never expected him to say that but I guess that is the next logical step for us to take in our relationship.

"I like the sound of that" I said  

We went back home and Sapnap went to stream while I worked on my essay he didn't tell me how long he was going to stream for but it will probably be about 3 hours. So I sat down and got on with writing the last 15 pages of my essay which would probably take me the entire time he was streaming maybe longer.

My essay took me almost exactly 4 hours to do but when I tried to submit it it wouldn't upload which happens from time to time. I looked at the upload speed of the WiFi since Sapnap taught me how to do it and it was fine but I assumed that it was being used for something else. This problem has happened before when Sapnap is uploading a video so I assumed that was the issue.

It got up and walked to Sapnap’s streaming room waiting outside for a moment to double check that he wasn't still streaming, I waited a couple minutes and heard nothing so I knocked and went in.

As soon as I went in I saw that Sapnap was still streaming and his face cam was on which meant that I was now on his stream in front of however many people. I've never made such a stupid mistake especially one that outs my entire relationship, I just stood in shock not being able to move and get out of the shot. Sapnap had the exact same reaction his face was filled with shock and fear at the same time.

Nothing prepares you for the moment that you expose yourself live in front of probably 100,000 people or more who will record anything that happens. Nothing prepares you for the chaos that will ensue when you do the before mentioned thing and definitely nothing prepares you for the guilt you feel doing so.

"Um hi y/n" He said trying to make things less awkward

"Hey" I replied shyly

He motioned for me to come over because there was no point trying to hide this anymore since no one will believe anything we say now. I stood next to Sapnap luckily being short enough that I still fit in frame but he had obviously given up caring at this point because he pulled me down into his lap to sit while we talked to his chat. Again he did the thing where he rubs his thumb in a circle on my leg and this time it really was for comfort.

"Well chat this is y/n and shes my... girlfriend" he said

"Hi everyone" I said shyly

"Now chat I'm going to need you to be nice to her or I'll be angry because she is very precious to me" he said

His chat were going insane telling others to clip this and people getting way to excited about all of this and some were asking questions. The whole chat was going so incredibly fast that it was hard to read all the messages.

We answered some of the basic questions like how long we have been together and other things, people also asked if George and Dream knew which of course they did and they have made jokes about Sapnap having a girlfriend but no one ever took it too seriously. At one point dream joined the call and started mocking us for being stupid and exposing ourselves and he told some stories that he knew we wouldn't mind him saying which the chat enjoyed.

I started yawning more and more as I stayed on the stream because I wasn't keeping my mind busy my tiredness was taking over. I leant back into Sapnap to rest my head on his shoulder, he out his hand on my head running it through my hair which is very relaxing.

"Are you tired?" He asked

"No I'm fine I can stay awake" I said

"I don't want to hear it I know you've been awake for over 24 hours so you are going to sleep" he almost demanded

He put his arms around my waist and pulled me into a comfortable position where I closed my eyes and fell asleep almost right away forgetting that Sapnap was still streaming but it doesn't matter.

[whumpmatsus]

28 Kara is cute, one would say too cute to suffer. Not me. Maybe fic where he is feeling really sick, but being the quiet one he is forgotten for a while? Or something. Pls and thanks.

haha, nobody is EVER too cute to suffer here! including precious baby 18!Kara~ <3

I had fun with this, I hope you like it! c:

-

It’s pouring rain when the rest of the sextuplets come to walk Karamatsu home from the train station, and he doesn’t want to go out in it.

Today’s drama club meeting wasn’t a very good one. The teacher leading it got focused on the two lead actors for the play which the club is showing tomorrow night, because they were both fighting and at each other’s throats. Most of the others ignored Karamatsu in favor of being on their phones or reading magazines or running lines while the teacher was busy with the leads.

Finally, in a twist that puts the cherry on the horrible meeting sundae, despite the fact that he’s playing a small part, Karamatsu messed up his own lines every single time. The others were so irritated with him, he wished the floor would just swallow him up.

Usually he’s so good with acting. It’s something he’s passionate about and enjoys and takes pride in. Today… it’s not that he’s nervous about the production. It’s that he just feels awful.

He’s been tired since he woke up, he’s warm and clammy at the same time, his throat is scratchy, he keeps coughing and sneezing, and any part of his body that doesn’t have a specific complaint is simply achy. Mommy noticed that he wasn’t feeling well when she sent them all to school, but he begged her not to keep him home, and since he didn’t have a fever this morning, she let him go.

There’s… definitely a fever running through him now, though. He thought for sure his brothers would notice and maybe ask him if there was anything they could do; instead, he’s been behaving so normally as far as they’re concerned, with his quiet nature and tendency to cry over small things, that not a single one of them has picked up on it.

On top of everything else, he forgot his umbrella. It was supposed to be sunny today, so he had to walk from school to the train without one, and now when he gets out of the station, he has to go out into the rain with barely any protection.

Although he’s crying by the time he reaches his brothers, it blends in pretty well with the rain.

Thankfully, all his brothers are carrying umbrellas, so he huddles under Osomatsu’s and presses himself against his older brother’s side. Osomatsu immediately accommodates him, pulling Karamatsu in to get dry. “Hey, bro! Geez, you’re shaking like a leaf. Sorry you didn’t have your umbrella!” He chuckles and tousles Karamatsu’s hair. “That’s what you get for picking a nerd hobby that’s right after school so you don’t have time to go home and get anything.”

“Don’t listen to him, Kara ― your hobby is just fine,” Choromatsu hums. He’s busy trying to entertain Totty, who’s doing his damnedest to attach himself to Choromatsu’s hip. “Now, guys, it’s raining out here, so can we please go home and get some tea? If we stay out here much longer, we’re gonna catch colds, and I do not want to be sick for graduation.”

Jyushimatsu scoffs. “That’s still two weeks away. We’d be fine, dumbass.”

Choromatsu’s face turns bright red. “W-well, if you’re fine getting sick regardless, you can go jump in the puddles for all I care!”

A smile briefly flashes across the second youngest’s face. “Really??” And just like that, he’s back to looking constantly angry. “Naaah… that shit’s for babies!”

They all begin to walk, and Ichimatsu shakes his head. “Ah, Karamatsu-nii-san… some of my friends wanted to come see that play tomorrow. What time does it start, again?”

“U-uh.” Karamatsu sniffles a few times, nuzzling against Osomatsu’s shoulder. “7 P.M. for the first one. Then there’s another showing at… at 8:30. I… don’t know if I’m… going to go, though.”

“What??” Choromatsu frowns as the six of them stop for the crosswalk. “You’ve never had stage fright before. You’ll be fine once you get up on the stage.”

“I don’t know, Choro…”

“Oh, come on, Kara-nii-san. Don’t cry like that… you made a commitment! You don’t wanna let your club down, right?”

Karamatsu reaches up to try and wipe the tears away. Not only is it kind of ineffective because his rain-soaked bangs keep dripping down his face, his hand keeps brushing against parts of his acne as he tries, which is painful. “Y-yeah, but…”

Osomatsu gives his little brother a squeeze that he thinks is supposed to be reassuring. It’s a bit rough, though. “No ‘but’s unless you’re grabbing a girl’s butt, Kara! You got this! You’ve done this shit before and totally nailed it. You usually don’t have too many lines, anyway, so it’s not that bad, is it?”

God, he should have a little more backbone. He should be able to say things decisively and not just fall silent when his brothers push him like this. Actually, if he just managed to say outright that he’s sick, they wouldn’t even be saying anything like this stuff. Right now they just think it’s pre-curtain jitters, which happens, which they can usually shake him out of because they know he loves acting.

Funnily enough, even though he doesn’t have much of a spine himself, this crappy cold of his evidently thinks this is the perfect time to speak up. The congestion he’s been fighting blossoms into something insistent that he can’t ignore, and he quickly ducks his face down between his hands.

“― Hh’DSHH! Hah’DTchh! Hd’TCHHuu! Ahh’DTSCHhhoo!”

A volley of coughs rides on the tail end of the last sneeze, so much that he can barely get a breath in. Each one makes his all-over soreness sharpen for a second, unbearable pinpricks of pain across his whole body. The coughs make something in his chest crackle and it hurtsand suddenly he’d pulled into a protective hug.

Part of him wishes he could just pull away. The part of him that wants to lean into the contact wins out, allowing him to nestle into his older brother’s chest as he continues to cough.

“Shit, Karamatsu!” Osomatsu starts rubbing his little brother’s back in an attempt to help break up the fit. “The fuck, man? That sounds nasty. You coming down with something?”

Karamatsu can feel the others hovering closer, murmuring in concern among themselves. The coughs finally taper off and he scrubs at his eyes, no matter how much it hurts, even as more tears start to bubble up. “Y-yeah… I woke up sick…”

“What??” Choromatsu sounds almost like he’s been betrayed or something. “You should have stayed home! Ah… wait… wait, you walked all the way to the station from school in the rain when you already have a cold? That’s a great way to end up with a sinus infection or pneumonia! Shit, we gotta get you home…”

“Sorry…” Karamatsu manages to croak out, followed by more sniffles. Thanks to the cold air and the sneezing, his nose has started running again. “U-uh… does anyone have tissues…? I used all mine already…”

Ichimatsu starts to dig around in his pockets. “Yeah, I think I have some.”

As he hands over a small pack to his older brother, Osomatsu gives a protective squeeze. “Hey, Choro, don’t blame Karamatsu for all this. He should have said something, sure, but it’s not all on him here. We should have noticed something was up. Right? We’re his brothers.”

Karamatsu lets out a small whine of protest, pressing a tissue over his nose. It would have been nice for them to notice, but… it’s not like it’s their job. They don’t owe it to him to pay attention to him. “I-it’s not your fault…”

Before anyone else can say a word, Totty lets go of Choromatsu and darts over to circle his arms around Karamatsu’s waist. He’s sort of wedging himself between Karamatsu and Osomatsu, pretty clearly wanting to be with both of them. “Ah! We love you, Karamatsu-nii-chan!! We’ll take good care of you!”

“… Yeah,” Choromatsu chuckles. He reaches over to pat Karamatsu’s back. “I’m sorry we weren’t paying enough attention to notice you weren’t feeling well. But we’re gonna get you home and tucked into bed. And I’m sure Mom will call the drama club teacher to tell her you can’t perform tomorrow night.”

Jyushimatsu hums, and he appears to be trying very hard not to smile wide like he wants to do. “We’re probably all gonna catch it, right?”

Ichimatsu chuckles softly. “Yeah, that’s what usually happens.”

“So… we can go stomp in puddles, right? Since we’re gonna get sick anyway?”

“No, no, no,” Choromatsu immediately speaks up, “no stomping in puddles! We have to get Kara home!”

Of course, it’s too late. Jyushimatsu has run off ahead of them all, launching himself into every puddle he can find, his face switching between an irritated scowl and a borderline maniacal grin.

Totty’s still clinging to Karamatsu, snuggling against his shoulder. “We’ll all get to be sick together! That means we get to stay home from school for a couple days. We can sleep and watch movies and have a big cuddle puddle.”

Choromatsu sighs. “As long as we don’t miss the commencement ceremony, that’s okay. I guess the last few weeks of our senior year don’t matter too much with regard to schoolwork, anyway. Especially since we’re already adults.”

Another few coughs are muffled against Osomatsu’s chest, prompting everyone to give a brief stroke to Karamatsu’s back or hair. “Well, before we catch it,” Osomatsu says, “we’ve gotta get this geek home and throw his ass in bed. He’s really warm… feels like his skin’s gonna burn his clothes up. C’mon, Kara. We’ll get you wrapped up in a blanket, then maybe I can help Mom make some kayu to make you feel better.”

“Mm…” Well. That does sound pretty good. “… W-with umeboshi on top?”

“Yeah, sure! Whatever you want! And Choro can make some tea, Totty can pick out a movie, Ichi can get a cold cloth for your forehead, and Jyushi…” Osomatsu blinks and peers out where their fifth eldest is… way ahead of them. “What can Jyushi do?”

Choromatsu blows out a slow, frustrated breath. “… Stay out of the way??”

Totty giggles. “He can be the bodyguard! We’ll station him outside the room, and if any of Ichimatsu-nii-chan’s friends come by to try and take Ichimatsu-nii-chan away, Jyushi-nii-chan will scare them off!”

“Hey, yeah! That’s a good idea, Totty!”

“What? Why do you want to scare my friends away?”

“Because Karamatsu-nii-chan’s sick! They can’t drag you off somewhere when your big brother needs you! That’d be mean.”

“A-ah, hahahah… he’d be fine without me, but… I can just say no! We don’t need Jyushi to scare them away.”

“We miiiiiiight! At least, it would be funny!”

Karamatsu offers a tiny laugh, which quickly turns into another couple of coughs. He puts a weak arm around Totty and wonders how he’s going to keep his eyes open for the rest of the walk home. He thinks they’re not too far away, though.

“Thanks, guys… this… this might not be such a bad day after all…”

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 14)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Billy Russo x Reader Word Count: 6039 Warnings: fluff, light angst, mentions of cheating

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: Major cringe warning everyone.. I can’t wait for your reactions! 😂 A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira​​​​ Feedback is always appreciated! 

PART 13 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Bucky pulls off his headphones, pressing a finger to the keyboard to stop the music he’s reviewing, taking a moment to pinch between his brows. He gets up to stretch his legs, grabbing the empty beer bottle along with him for the short walk to the kitchen. He tosses it in the garbage with the rest.

He doesn’t like drinking this much but lately he hasn’t been feeling great. His music has been stagnant, devoid of life and energy. Thinking about it only makes him feel worse, a painful reminder that deadlines are coming up and what little he’s created is absolute shit.

The knob squeaks as he turns the faucet, letting the water turn to liquid ice before he runs his hands through them, splashing it up against his face. He hears the hiss of the pipes next door and his heart sinks.

It’s Y/N’s shower. He looks towards the wall wondering if she’s alone, quickly shaking the thoughts out of his mind. He shouldn’t care if she’s alone or not. She’s in a relationship and it shouldn’t matter.

Bucky tried really hard to not think about her. He promised himself he would get out there and find someone and well, it hasn’t exactly worked out. In the last three weeks he’s been on a dozen dates. Most of the girls could barely hold a conversation, while the others were less exciting than watching paint dry.

He fucked a few of them even though he said he wouldn’t. That wasn’t the point of these dates but Bucky needed the distraction. It was hard hanging out with everyone, it didn’t matter if Y/N was there with Billy or if they were not; Bucky wasn’t sure what was worse.

Over the last few days he has been messaging someone new who’s been doing a pretty good job of keeping him entertained. Bobbi, she works at a gym Uptown. She’s worked extremely hard for her body and flaunts it in most of her photos and sure, Bucky would love to hit it but there’s something more that keeps him drawn in.

She’s so direct, talking to him as if they had known each other for years. He loves checking his phone to see her latest message, a smile already stretching across his face when he sees a long text about something that happened at the gym. Apparently a lot of characters workout there and she has an endless list of horror stories she couldn’t wait to share with him.

They planned a date for the end of the week and Bucky was very excited to finally meet her. It was promising, the idea that he could be happy with someone just like… just like everyone else.

You hug yourself a little tighter as you walk down the block, feeling the cool breeze move right through you. Billy seems to be in his own world, his head gazing down to his phone as it had been through most of dinner. You didn’t voice your annoyance though because it would only make things worse.

Billy’s been in a bad mood ever since the Feds came knocking at ANVIL’s door. A few former employees were recently involved in a string of armed robberies and Billy was questioned about it. Word got out and he lost a big account as a result.

Obviously the situation is upsetting but it’s not just that, Billy’s been distant lately. You’ve been spending a lot of time together but maybe that’s the problem, the honeymoon period might be over. You know it’s a normal part of any relationship but the idea that things could change so drastically doesn’t make you feel great.

“Hey watch where you’re going,” an unfamiliar voice barked.

Your head turned quickly to find Billy getting in the face of the stranger he apparently bumped into.

“What did you say to me?” Billy’s dark eyes sharpened like a bird of prey closing in on its target. His nostrils flared as he snarled, staring down the other man until he backed away with his tail between his legs. Billy looked him up and down, a smug smile creeping across his face in silent victory.

A heavy arm fell around your shoulders as Billy pulled you closer to him when he began walking away.

“What the hell was that?” you asked after a long beat of silence.

He faced you with the same incredulity he gave the man before. “That was people knowing better than to get in my way.”

Your stomach churned with unease and that silent alarm inside you was going off. You needed to get away from Billy, for tonight at least. By the time you got to the front of your building you figured out an excuse you hoped would work.

“Hey so, I promised Elena I would head in early tomorrow. Paperwork’s been piling up and medical records have been on our case about it. So, can we raincheck this?” You smiled, using your best doe eyes to seem sincere about it.

Billy stared you down, looking for the slightest crack in your expression. It was something he had always done, reading people, checking for lies. You know it’s a product of his upbringing, with so many broken promises made by a faulty system.

“Yeah. Yeah that’s fine,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Remember I got us Knicks tickets.”

You nodded in agreement, gasping slightly when he caught you off guard by his kiss. It was the last thing on your mind but you gave in, opening your mouth to his forceful tongue. Anything to keep up appearances, for tonight.

Billy watched you enter the building and you waved back at him right before you disappeared for the hallway, finally able to take a breath. On the way up to your floor you wondered if you should talk to Wanda about what happened. It was kind of late though and even though she would want to hear everything about it you didn’t want to disturb her.

As you approached your door you looked towards Bucky’s. Maybe he could give some advice from the male perspective. Then again you didn’t want to bother him either. Bucky’s also been pretty distant lately and you’ve barely seen him in the past month. Maybe everything’s changed, your relationship, your friendships. Change is supposed to be good but this felt all wrong.

You couldn’t find a comfortable spot on your bed, tossing and turning, kicking off the covers, pulling them back up again. Nothing seemed right. There was too much on your mind and you couldn’t relax.

“Shut up brain, just shut up!” you begged out loud, grabbing your phone to find something to distract yourself.

Scrolling through your playlists you tried to find one that wouldn’t give you the urge to stay up and sing along, and then you stopped on the perfect one. It was Bucky’s playlist, Greatest Cinema Scores. Grabbing your headphones you laid your head back on the pillow as John Williams carried you to dreamland.

You groan, rolling over to one side. It’s still dark out. You don’t want to look at your phone but you give in anyway. Two in the morning. At least you still had a few more hours of sleep. Your stomach spasms forcing you to get up, hurrying your paces to the bathroom because the weird rumbling has you convinced you might not make it in time.

It’s five past two in the morning when all hell breaks loose. Hell translating to everything you’ve eaten this evening coming up and out of you from both ends. It’s not pretty. Tears are streaming down your face as you puke into the garbage can you’re rapidly filling, trying to catch your breath in between painful heaves. The other end isn’t much better, hot liquid expelling itself from your body; stomach cramps, body spasms all doing their part to add to the mess.

Ten minutes pass by the time it’s safe to leave the bathroom. Your throat burns with the remnants of vomit, your ass is on fire and you curl back into bed, brushing aside the tears from the corner of your eyes. Your reprieve is short lived as your stomach grumbles again and you rush across your apartment, giving yourself over to the porcelain throne.

More comes out of you than you’ve taken in and you wonder about the science of it all. When will it stop? Dinner was simple, a glass of wine, a small house salad, chicken parm and some vegetables that come out whole as you peer into the soupy garbage held out in front of you. A whiff of the stench makes you gag again setting off another round of vomiting.

Everything hurts. Tears burn hot against your skin as you cry alone, half naked and in need of a shower at this point to clean yourself up. Elvis died on the toilet, is that how you’re gonna go too? It seems entirely possible at this point.

By the time the sun begins to peak out through the large buildings you’ve exhausted your body of all its worth. You’re shaking as you change into clean pajamas, crawling back into bed, barely having the strength to raise your phone to your ear as you leave a message for Elena, telling her you won’t be able to make it in today.

Sleep doesn’t come easy, not when you’re still getting out of bed every hour to get rid of every part of your insides. Isn’t it out of you already? You think back to dinner and the slightly pink chicken you thought at the time was your imagination or bad lighting. Dammit.

You text Billy, telling him you have food poisoning, hoping his seafood and linguine didn’t leave him in the same position you were currently in. After the hundredth trip to the bathroom you opened up your fridge looking for something. You squirm as you look at the orange juice, however tempting it is the acid would probably burn through you. Your mouth waters looking at the forbidden food, aka anything that isn’t a plain cracker. Do you have any of those? Nope. How is it possible you don’t have a single thing you could possibly eat?

The trek across your apartment and back to your bed seems like it went on for miles and now you shake with chills, wrapping yourself up in the blanket as you text Wanda begging for her to come over with Gatorade, ginger ale and crackers.

You whimper out loud as you feel your stomach gurgling, it wants another round versus the toilet where you’re going to lose. By the time you come out again you’re sweating, shaking on weak legs as you cry yourself to sleep.

In another hour you’ve woken up, thankful for the returned text that she would come by before heading to work. After your latest round in the bathroom you trudge to the front door unlocking it, and move to your couch where you plop face down. You text Wanda, telling her the door is open, and try to shut your eyes until the inevitable happens. Because you know it’s going to happen again. For some reason you’ve been cursed and there’s nothing you can do about it but suffer.

You aren’t sure of how much time has passed but you hear your door opening, bags rustling in hand and the tiniest smile spreads across your face.

“Wandaaa, my butthole hurts,” you whined, lifting your head up off the couch slightly to groan even more. “It’s like a volcano that’s erupting hot brown lava. There’s so much of it Wan. It won’t stop. My ass is vomiting shit.”

“Wow Y/N, that’s quite a visual.”

Oh no. Panic surges through you when you realize that was not Wanda’s voice. A weak arm pushes you up from the couch where you turn around to find Bucky somehow looking at you in the eye after he heard your very blunt confession.

You’re stunned into silence, not knowing what to say because you had just said far too much than you ever wanted to. Suddenly you feel nauseous again but for a different reason.

Bucky shifted one of the bags he was holding into his other hand so he could send a small wave in your direction, trying not to burst out laughing as he said, “Hey neighbor.”

“B-Bucky, what are you doing here?” you asked, sinking back down onto the couch because you couldn’t support yourself anymore.

“Wanda texted me, said she wasn’t able to get these to you before work.” He set the bags down, walking closer to you and crouching down by the couch. “Are you okay?”

Your head shook a little before you answered. “No. I think I’m dying. I’m puking up my organs.”

“Oh yeah? Which ones?” he chuckled.

“My intestines, definitely my stomach… maybe a kidney or two.”

He cracked a beautiful smile that somehow made you feel better just by looking at it. Bucky reached the back of his hand out to feel your forehead. You were a little warm but you didn’t feel feverish.

“Well I’m here now and I brought all the good stuff you need. Will you let me help you?”

Tears filled your eyes as you replied, and Bucky smiled again. He emptied the bags in your kitchen, taking out a bottle of ginger ale, Gatorade, crackers and some instant white rice.

“How about a little ginger ale to settle your stomach, yeah?”

Bucky brought over a glass that was less than half filled. Sitting next to you, he helped you sit up and you waited for the room to stop spinning before you took a few small sips as he told you to. Your hand was shaking and Bucky took the glass from you before you spilled it.

You didn’t think a few sips of ginger ale would be a magical cure but you wished it would. You felt so shitty… which seemed fitting, but it really wasn’t funny. You leaned against Bucky, closing your eyes as you sighed in frustration. It was comforting to feel his arm around you, and hear his whispers that everything would be okay.

“Are you nauseous? Do you need to…”

“I just don’t feel good,” you cried against him.

Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line, wishing there was something more he could do for you. When Wanda texted him he had shot right up, threw on clothes and raced to the store. He wished you had asked him, that you were as close as you used to be but he understands why you might not have wanted him to know.

The briefest thought about Billy crosses his mind. Did you tell him? Was he going to come in and take care of you? Would you shove Bucky aside if he did? But Billy isn’t here, and Billy isn’t important. Right now this is about you and doing whatever he can to help.

“Hey doll, do you want to try and eat something?”

You barely process the nickname as you think about how your stomach is feeling. It’s still too early to try and eat so instead you ask for some Gatorade, hoping that might make you feel a little better.

Bucky brings it back, along with a wet washcloth he places on your neck, feeling your skin prickle at his touch as he moves aside the collar of your shirt. It’s a nice relief for the short while it lasts. You head back to the bathroom again but at least you didn’t vomit this time. You’re thankful since you’re really not sure you have the strength to even handle throwing up anymore.

Back on the couch you lay your head down on Bucky’s thigh, curling your body into a fetal position as he lays a throw blanket over you. You don’t realize when you’ve fallen asleep but you wake up at some time later to find the sky is lit in a golden glow of the afternoon sun. Bucky assists you with sitting up, helping you quell the dizziness with more sips of Gatorade and ginger ale.

You feel brave enough to eat, hoping that one single cracker will not send you back on the hell ride through your digestive tract. Bucky can’t help but smile as you nibble on the cracker slowly like a hamster.

“What did you eat that got you sick?” he wondered.

“New Italian place on 23rd and 8th. Bad chicken. I mean, I thought it was good at the time but I don’t think I’ll be going back again.”

“Good to know. I’m gonna cancel my plans tonight,” he said, digging his phone from his pocket.

“Yeah, definitely go somewhere else.”

“No, I’m cancelling the whole date.”

Your head spun as you turned it too fast to face Bucky. “You have a date tonight?”

His head shook before he began speaking. “Nope, not anymore. I want to stay here and take care of you.” You began to protest but Bucky insisted. “Y/N, I really want to do this. Please, let me help you.”

The fluttering in your stomach made you wonder if you needed to rush to the bathroom again but it didn’t feel the same as before. Instead you smiled softly, thankful to have Bucky’s kindness. It was nice to know someone wanted to take care of you.

In the moment you scanned the table for your phone, remembering the text you sent out this morning. Billy still hadn’t replied. Maybe he’s sick too or maybe… well you don’t have the energy to think otherwise at the moment.

Your mouth is watering, craving anything and everything that you can’t have. Even the drinks have to be sipped slowly otherwise you’ll set your stomach off again. It’s so unfair. Why is this happening? And why is every commercial food related?

“Bucky, can you change the channel?” you begged.

He switched it to a show about animals, that’s fine, that’s… not fine. The TV shows a raccoon eating delicious red grapes and you feel the tears begin to flood your eyes. You huff against Bucky’s leg, not bothering to change the channel because there was no point. You couldn’t eat and you probably never will again. Was that being dramatic? Maybe, but right now you’re not in the mood to think sensibly.

“I feel bad askin’ but is it okay if I order food? I know you can’t have any and I really don’t want to make this worse for ya.”

Bucky is staring at you with big blue eyes, hoping his small request isn’t too much of an offence at the moment. You almost wanted to say no but you couldn’t, it’s not Bucky’s fault you ate bad chicken.

“Pizza? Really?” you whined after he placed his order.

His eyes grew big with panic and he was about to call back and cancel his order before you stopped him.

“No, no. I’m sorry Bucky. It doesn’t matter what you eat, I’m gonna want everything so enjoy yourself.”

You pouted, grabbing the throw blanket to pull it over your shoulder as you adjusted your position of resting on his leg, shutting your eyes until he got up to answer the door when the pizza arrived.

“That smells really good,” you said, frowning as Bucky opened the box.

He was hesitant to take a bite, feeling guilty as you looked at him. “Can I make you anything? Think you could handle some rice?”

Your head shook and you took out another single cracker, chewing on it slowly as Bucky sat down beside you with a few slices.

“I’m sorry Y/N. You’ll feel better soon, I promise. And when you’re up for it let’s get pizza. We still haven’t kept our promise.” Bucky’s mouth dropped open in response to your confused face. “Our pizza quest! Remember? Eat our way through the city to find the best pizza!”

“Oh yeah!” You smiled for the first time, bright and beaming across your face and Bucky was happy he was able to bring that out in you. “We definitely have to do that.”

The night continued with Bucky putting on Galaxy Quest for you both to watch. Halfway through the movie you went back to the bathroom, missing a call from Billy. Bucky couldn’t help but look over as your phone buzzed, seeing a picture of you and Billy smiling together.

A moment later a text came through and he knew he shouldn’t read it but he couldn’t help himself. Bucky looked towards the bathroom to check that you weren’t about to come out before he grabbed your phone, reading Billy’s text.

Billy: Wtf Y/N where are you? Did you remember the basketball game?

Bucky placed your phone back on the coffee table, remembering to unclench his jaw as your bathroom door opened. What an asshole. He didn’t even ask how you were.

“Your phone rang,” Bucky reluctantly said as you sat down again.

He watched as you read the text, typing back furiously. Another buzz and you were responding to Billy again, your face getting angrier the longer the back and forth messaging went on.

“I’m sorry, that was rude,” you said, tossing your phone on the table. “Let’s put the movie on.”

You got comfortable against Bucky, ignoring the buzz of your phone. The texts didn’t stop coming in and you tried your best to ignore it and pay attention to the movie but Bucky could clearly see you were upset.

“You can answer that if you need to.”

“I really don’t want to. Billy’s so concerned about wasting money on tickets, not once has he even mentioned the fact that I’m sick. Did he not get my messages?”

Bucky bit his tongue, not wanting to say something he might end up regretting, especially if this isn’t the end of you and Billy like he hoped. Why would he hope that? He’s dating now. Or at least he thought he was.

He cancelled his date with Bobbi tonight without hesitation, just so he could take care of you. She seemed cool about it, asking if he was free tomorrow and Bucky agreed to another date but the longer you stay curled up beside him the less interest he has in wanting to see anyone.

The warmth of your body against his lulled Bucky into a deep sleep. It wasn’t the most comfortable, slumped on the couch in a mostly sitting position but he didn’t want to move, not when you had fallen asleep before him. You were exhausted from everything you went through so your sleep was more important to him than the cramp that developed in his neck overnight.

You woke up, slowly opening your eyes, rubbing the sleep from them as you realized you weren’t in your bed but on the couch resting your head against Bucky. You watched the rise and fall of his stomach through the soft sweater he wore, the one that most certainly left tiny marks on your cheek from leaning against it.

Looking up at Bucky you smiled at the way his head was tilted to the side, eyes shut peacefully as small puffs of breath left his mouth. You thought about everything Bucky had done for you, what was supposed to be a simple task of dropping off ginger ale and crackers turned into his whole day being rearranged just to take care of you.

You wanted to do something nice for him in return, it’s something you’ll have to think about when your head’s not as light as it feels. Slowly you begin to sit up, taking a few sips of Gatorade from the bottle that was left on the table. You feel… better but still not great.

It’s daring but you aim to eat two crackers, hoping it won’t set off your stomach. It was grumbling with hunger but you knew better than to give in with actual food even though you were craving pancakes.

After sitting up for a while you didn’t think you felt dizzy anymore so you got up slowly. You felt the weakness in your legs as they carried you across the room but at least your trip to the bathroom was normal. A regular pee was a lot better than everything else that came out of you yesterday.

“G’morning,” Bucky said mid-yawn as you opened the door, seeing his sweater rise up to reveal a sliver of his toned stomach as he stretched his arms out.

“Morning Bucky.” You smiled as you made your way beside him again, reaching your arm across his stomach as you settled back against him, nuzzling your head on his chest.

Bucky loved this but absolutely hated that he needed to use the bathroom and therefore ruin the way you cuddled up against him. “I’m sorry doll. I’ll be quick,” he said, rushing up off the couch.

Doll. You liked that nickname. It was a little on the old fashioned side but it was endearing. Billy called you babe which was fine and all but it definitely didn’t have the same effect as doll. The thought of Billy made you roll your eyes. You would have to speak to him today but you really didn’t want to.

“Alright, where were we?”

Bucky’s voice rang out as he opened the door, walking back towards the couch. He moved his neck from side to side to crack it before he sat down again, letting you cozy up to him.

“How’re you feelin’ today?”

“Better. I think I might try some rice later.”

“Just let me know and I’ll make it.” There was no hesitation in his offer, just pure tenderness in wanting you to get better.

The morning was spent cuddling on the couch until Bucky’s stomach began grumbling worse than yours. He got up to make himself something while you insisted you weren’t ready for anything more than crackers and ginger ale yet.

“I’m gonna take your garbage out and head home for a quick shower. You think you’ll be okay? I’ll be quick.”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks Bucky.”

He was thankful you didn’t tell him not to come back. You seemed much better than yesterday and you probably didn’t need him but Bucky really didn’t want to leave. Sure he had work to do but this was more important. He wouldn’t have been able to get you off his mind anyway so he might as well be useful.

During Bucky’s absence you debated talking to Billy, knowing it would probably end up in a fight but you didn’t have the strength to do that yet. Besides, you hadn’t done anything wrong so there is no need for you to be chasing him down.

With the little energy you had you decided to freshen up. While splashing your face with some water you noticed the broken blood vessels in your eyes, the result of straining so much to throw up. Fun stuff.

It was a bit of a struggle to get undressed and changed into new pajamas and you had to lay down in your bed before the room stopped spinning. Thankfully Bucky had come back and was able to help you.

He handed the glass of Gatorade to you, rubbing slow circles of comfort on your back that seemed so natural for him.

“You need to eat something Y/N. Think you’re up for some rice now?” he asked softly, gazing at you with concern as he awaited your answer. You gave a simple nod and Bucky leapt up to get it started.

The burn of tears rushed to your eyes as you thought about Bucky. He was so eager to make sure you were okay, taking out your garbage that was filled with various bags full of vomit without hesitation, spending every minute of his weekend just to take care of you. He even cancelled a date.

Something inside your stomach twisted at the thought of Bucky actually dating someone. It’s not like him sleeping with someone was a surprise to you but apparently in the last month you’ve drifted apart from him, unaware he had started to date people instead of just sleeping with them. You’re not so sure why this makes you feel so… well, you’re not really sure how you feel about it but you know you feel something.

None of this should matter though. You have been dating someone for two months. Someone you thought you loved but this past weekend has taught you a lot about Billy. Not only has his change in demeanor put you off but the fact that he hasn’t shown any concern for you over this weekend really makes you want to end your relationship.

Bucky happily brought over a small bowl of white rice. There wasn’t much in there to begin with but you could only manage a few teaspoons before you had to stop. The worst part of it all is that you were so hungry but you really couldn’t eat much, and certainly couldn’t chance upsetting your stomach anymore no matter how badly you wanted to shovel the rice down your mouth.

The afternoon was spent on your couch again, cuddled up against Bucky as you continued to watch movies. His arm was around your shoulder and occasionally you felt his hand rub up and down over the curve of your arm. You smiled against him, letting yourself enjoy however long you could have Bucky like this.

In the back of your mind you thought about him dating again. Whoever he ends up with would be the luckiest girl ever, to have someone as kind and caring as Bucky take care of them as he has been with you. You chew on your bottom lip remembering the shared kiss on New Year’s Eve. Yeah, it was safe to say you would be completely jealous of any girl that ends up with him.

While attempting to have a little more rice you watched Bucky respond to his phone that had gone off a few times. It was hard not to glance over at him, imagining what pretty girl he was probably talking to.

What you didn’t know was Bucky was talking to a girl, Bobbi, cancelling the plans they had rescheduled for today. He didn’t bother to reschedule again and Bucky knew it was stupid not to but somehow the weekend he’s spent on your couch made him lose all enthusiasm for dating someone. Logic tried to reason with him, remind him that you were in a relationship but it was hard to deny the way he felt about you, how he’s been feeling for a long time now.

Bucky can’t stop staring at you, watching as you finish up the rice from earlier. He’s hated seeing you in pain but being able to help you this weekend has been such an honor.

As the sun set you realized you were not at all prepared to go back to work tomorrow. You probably could use another day off but since you weren’t throwing up anymore you wanted to at least give it a shot. Besides, Tony had been relying on you a lot recently with the logistics of getting The September Foundation prepared and you didn’t want to disappoint anyone.

“I need to take a shower.” As you stood up you felt a little dizzy and Bucky had his arms around you just in case. After a moment of a few deep breaths you felt a little better. “I’m okay,” you assured him.

Bucky didn’t quite believe that so he poured more Gatorade and handed you the glass.

“I’m not leaving you.” Bucky wiped his hand down his face realizing how forceful that sounded. “I mean, I won’t leave until you get out okay? I don’t want you to slip and fall or anything.”

“I’ll leave the door unlocked just in case but now I feel like I’ve jinxed myself,” you joked. Having Bucky hear your vivid description of shitting was bad enough, you really didn’t want him to find you passed out in the shower.

Bucky lowered the volume of the TV to barely above mute, wanting to listen out for anything out of the ordinary. He heard the shower turn on and a minute later the curtain pulling as you stepped in.

A text from Sam pulled his attention away from listening and he opened the message, his jaw clenched as he scanned the photo attached. It was Billy, with his arm around another girl. She was short with dark hair pulled into a bun, dressed professionally and Bucky questioned if he was jumping the gun at thinking the worst. Maybe she worked with Billy or maybe it was his sister.

The next text that came through proved his theories wrong. Sam captioned the picture of Billy kissing the girl with “Asshole.”

Bucky: I’m with Y/N now. She’s been sick all wknd I don’t think she knows about this.

Sam: Do you want to tell her or should I have Wanda come by? She’s ready to rip his head off.

Bucky: So am I Bucky: Fuck. Bucky: idk maybe Wanda should talk to her?

There was nothing Bucky wanted more than to tell you what an asshole Billy was but he didn’t want to be accused of using it to his advantage in any way. Bucky would be there with everyone else to support you through this but as a friend only. You deserved better than Billy no matter who you ended up with.

“Bucky!”

The sound of your voice in distress makes him pop up from the couch. He runs to the door, fear coursing through his veins as he hopes you’re okay. Inside the steamy bathroom he finds your head poking out through the shower curtain, the rest of it pulled close to your body not to reveal yourself.

“I forgot to grab a towel,” you said, smiling. “They’re over there.” A bare arm slick with water points behind him and he grabs a towel from a shelf. “Thanks,” you said, taking it from him, watching as he nods awkwardly before shutting the door.

Bucky’s cheeks are flushed from the brief humidity and the sight of seeing you in the shower. Well, not that he saw anything but just the idea of it has his heart racing.

Ten minutes later and you were out of the bathroom, changed into new pajamas, these ones covered with a cute cactus print, brushing through your still wet hair.

Silence filled the room as you finished your post shower routine of putting on a variety of moisturizers and facial sprays and Bucky felt like he had overstayed his welcome. You were winding down even though it was still early, and truthfully he had a weekend’s worth of work to catch up on.

“So there’s more rice on the counter, plus an unopened bottle of ginger ale too, and if you need anything else you know where I live.” He chuckled uncomfortably at his bad joke. “Really though if you need me please call me okay? I’ll come running.”

He didn’t mean to sound so desperate but it was true.

“Thank you so much for everything Bucky.” You threw your arms around him for a hug, melting deeper into him as he wrapped his arms around your body.

Neither of you realized the other didn’t want to let go but you made the move to reluctantly pull apart. Bucky had spent his whole weekend doting on you, you didn’t want to force him to stay any longer.

Bucky smiled as he gazed upon you, the way your eyes shifted down before staring back up at him. He leaned in slowly, pressing his lips to your forehead and a surge of electricity went racing through you. His kiss lingered and the longer he made contact with your skin the more you wanted to press your lips to his.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said, walking away slowly towards the door.

Your heart was caught in your throat as you locked it behind him, letting out a deep, longing sigh, and the realization that you might have feelings for Bucky.

PART 15

[mcu-fan-fics-blog]

The Helping Hand

This is a Repost from my Ao3 I wanted to bring it to Tumblr. I hope you like it Its currently 5 chapters I will be uploading the rest throughout the rest of the week.

Word count: 1900 approx

Summary: Y/N Krast Illegitimate Daughter of Tony Stark. Product of an unwanted teen pregnancy. What would Howard Stark be capable of doing to assure his sons future? What will happen when Tony meets our Beautiful, young, genius, rich philanthropist.

Tw: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Drug use, Drug addiction, Teen Pregnancy. (If there are any I missed please tell me.)

Ch.2

Chapter 3: Remembering

Ch.4

22 years ago (Tony's POV)

"Dad say something." You watch as Howard paces back and forth. "Tony, what do you want me to say? I'm disappointed in you. You're better than this." He rushes towards you and you can see the desperation in his eyes. 

"Does anyone else know? This could ruin you… this could destroy us." You sigh running your hand through your hair. "No dad, she hasn't told her parents yet." Howard tenses further and musters "Good, you better keep it that way."

"Dad, she wants to have the baby." He sits you down next to him placing his hand on your shoulder. "She's not going to keep that child tony. She can have it but she'll never see it again, and neither will you."

"Dad it's my kid I can't in my right mind have it in the foster system." Howard grows impatient. "And what exactly is it that you can offer the kid." You look at him, the anger and the feeling of inevitability building in you. "Money." You simply say for lack of other ideas. 

Howard laughs with no trace of humor behind it "And have that child turn out like you, trust me they'll be better off without it. And let me make this clear you have no choice in the matter." You stand to face your dad "Or what did, what are you going to do?" Howard levels with your looking at your eyes "Or I’ll forget I have a son named Tony."

You are taken aback by your father’s words and he continues "So what's it going to be Tony that child, or your future you chose." You take a deep breath and compose yourself nodding at him. "Fine, Howard we'll do it your way. You say while you walk out, finding your mother on the other side of the door. 

"Mom?" Shed gives you an apologetic look. "I'm sorry son for your father’s behavior. Everything will be fine." You let your guard down finally realizing the tears that you'd been holding in. You hug your mother nestling your face in her neck. 

The pregnancy had gone by so fast Maya reluctantly agreed to your father’s terms. She moved into your home, and you got to see your daughter develop and become a tiny person. You're holding an ultrasound in your hand. "She's going to be beautiful." You say more towards yourself but Maya heard you. 

"Do you ever wonder what will happen to her? Tony, I'm scared." You take her hand and look at her belly. "I'm scared too." You confess honestly. She shakes her head "No Tony, I'm scared for her. What exactly is going to happen to her?" You take her hand "I don't know Maya, but she'll be okay." You squeeze her hand reassuringly. 

She grimaces and you get startled "Are you okay, is the baby okay?" You Ask almost instinctively Maya can only giggle at your reaction. "Were fine you can touch my bump if you went to. It's her new trick it's called kicking mommy at the most inconvenient times." 

You hesitate, but place your hands on her bump. Seconds pass by when she kicks again causing you to laugh. Maya clears her throat "You know you can talk to her?" You look up at Maya and she continues. "I read it she can hear you… if you want to say anything it's probably a good idea to do it now before… well you know."

"Do you mind covering your ears?" She laughs but does it anyway. You bend down to her baby bump as if to make sure she could hear your voice. "Hi, baby it's me your dad. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. And I wanted to give you some advice. Just be strong alright." You can feel your baby moving under your hands "I'm sorry." You repeat. 

It wasn't long after this conversation that Maya went into labor. The whole thing was terrifying you, but you had to be strong. From now on yo I had to set an example. "Where is she? Where's my baby? I want to see her at least once Tony… Please." She pulled you out of your thoughts. 

"Of course" You give her a small smile and leave the room to where your mother and father are. "Umm… she wants to see her. She wants to see her at least once." Howard sighs but caves in the end. "Fine… I’ll tell the nurse to go get her." You interrupted his sentence. 

"Umm… actually I want to go get her." Your mother sighs "Tony, honey that's not a good idea." You look at her pleading with your eyes. "I need to see her… at least once. Please." She looks at Howard and he simply nods. You take your leave and go to the nursery. 

Once there you look for her you find her almost immediately. "Hey monkey how are ya… I'm crazy, aren't I? Talking to a newborn like you could understand me." Suddenly she smiles and it lights up your entire heart. "We'll see each other again, I promise. I don't know how long it will be but I’ll see you again." You kiss her head gently. "I'll fight for you, you just have to be strong. Alright, let's take you to see your mom."

As you're making your way to her room suddenly you hear the words "code blue patient in room 34b is in code blue" suddenly the halls are filled with nurses running towards Maya's room. "Mom what's happening is Maya going to be okay?" She gives you a look "It's not looking good honey they've got her stable but, I would go in there before it's too late… Go, Tony!"

"Maya…" you say cautiously holding your baby. "How is she Tony… is she okay?" Her voice was hoarse. "She's beautiful… I think she has your eyes." She chuckles "let me hold her." You don't wait any longer, you place her in Maya's arms. "She's heavier than I thought." she mentions. "Tony fight for her, alright… maybe not today or tomorrow but find her. I'm not going to make it out of her promise that you'll look for her." 

The tears start to build up in your eyes. You don't speak but you nod giving her closure. She turns to your baby she's holding in her arms. "I love you so much alright, I'm sorry. I'll always love you." She looks at you asking to take the baby from her arms. You do as she asks… she closed her eyes and never opened them again. 

You walk out of the room, the tears streaming down your cheeks. Kissing your baby one last time on the head, handing her over to Howard. Breaking down almost immediately as you watch him walk away with her. As soon as he's out of your sight you feel like the air was knocked out of you.

"She's so beautiful mom… I wish you'd met her." You say as you remember all of her, her image burned in your mind forever. Her captivating smile that stole your heart the minute you saw it. And you promise to Maya. "I'm going to fight for her mom… I don't care how long it takes." She takes your face in her hands "I know you are." She says as she wipes your tears away.

(Howard’s POV) 

As much as it pained you to see your son so distraught you continued with your plans. Yes, it was harsh but what was he going to do with a child. Especially now that the mother was gone, maybe she could actually find a worthy family in the system. At least that is what you are trying to believe.

You hadn’t taken the time to look down at your granddaughter until she cooed. I was one of the most peculiar sounds you’d ever heard. Finally letting your eyes travel down you the bundle in your arms. She was… she was perfect you saw Tony in her you saw Maya in her and it just brought pain to you. Here you were paying a stranger to leave her in a hospital. “I’ll give you half the money here and the rest when you come back.” You say firmly. The woman only nods holding the baby in her arms. 

It felt like you were waiting forever when the woman came back you were startled. “Sir the baby has been left in the NICU.” You look at her bewildered as to why the child is now in the NICU. “What did you do to her.” she calmly says “The baby girl had problems with her lungs, something about a heart murmur I didn’t quite stay to find out.” You sighed and gave the woman the rest of her money.

Months had now passed and you were still keeping up with the child. Her medical issues were quite extensive, but you made sure she got everything she needed. She had not been adopted or even considered as an option… not once. People usually want healthy undamaged kids. When you were giving up hope on her adoption, you decided on bringing the child home.

Things were quickly changed when the system quite literally lost your granddaughter. At one point you were just looking through death certificates to see if you would find some trace of them. Three years had gone by when you finally gave up hope tired of looking for her tired of feeling the guilt. 

Deep down you knew that Tony was going to look for her one day, something you didn’t see coming was her being nowhere to be found. You simply couldn’t live with that so you kept looking. There were so many times where you thought that you had found her but in reality, it was just someone else. It was a nightmare the things these kids went through at this point you just wanted to get her out you had seen enough horror stories. 

It wasn’t until you found a report done on the Gordon family that you finally had a lead on where she was. That was almost 11 years of searching to find out that she had quite literally been through hell. She was transferred to a group home after the incident at the Gordon House. It took you months to get in contact with Jerome Evans.

“With all due respect Jerome if you dont hand over the kid you be in deep trouble.” you spat at him angrily. To which he simply chuckles. “And what are “you” going to do about it pops” Now it was your turn to laugh “I was beginning to think you’d never ask you see I know about everything that goes down here. What you do to the kids you know your little side hustle.” You can see Jerome’s expression change.

“Hand over the kid.” He simply nods and yells “Krast get down here!” 

(Present Time)

Y/N’s POV

“Are you okay Tony?” You ask genuinely concerned. He simply nods and smiles “I just got an idea, what if we throw you a birthday party here a Stark Tower to commemorate our partnership.” You were surprised by his initiative. “I would love it thanks for offering, but as I said it would be till a couple of months from now so we have time.” Now Pepper starts to talk “When exactly is your birthday.” You think about it and answer “Well I was born in March early march. I don’t really know the day but I usually celebrate on the 5th.” By now Tony just looks pale but you let it slide as you don't know him well.

[dovechim]

lost in the funhouse (m)

⇥ 9.7k

⇥ warnings: psychological manipulation, spitting, slight blood play, oral (both receiving) unprotected sex (y’all know to wrap it right), impregnation risk, cream pie, dirty talk, name calling, Daddy kink

tldr; prisoner Namjoon is here

⇥ a/n: if you had any plans for the Valentine’s Day weekend, throw them all out the window. Happy Valentines Day from yours truly 💌

You’re used to the world being in different shades of grey. Both in the literal and figurative sense. Everything around you is doused in that dull colour, from the austere steel gates every 20 metres, to the security guards in their grey uniforms twirling their batons and sporting the big guns. This place is crawling with security cameras, with the state-of-the-art technology designed to keep the madhouse in order.

Hope World Mental Asylum for the Criminally Insane. A slightly ironic name, seeing as one couldn’t find an inkling of hope in this place no matter how hard they tried.

The prison orderlies bow as you walk past them, and you give them a smile in greeting. The staff here are nice enough. The security guards always treat you with respect, but you’ve seen the way they rough up an inmate who steps out of line. Though you suppose they’re trained to only react that way to the criminally insane. Still, they keep order in the asylum, and with the rowdier inmates that you see, you feel a bit better knowing that they have your back, although you could never believe that any of these people would ever hurt you.

Like you said, your world isn’t black and white, and neither are these people. They come in many shades of grey, and it’s your job to see them for who they really are, not for what the world has labelled them as.

Your heels click along the concrete floor as you walk past the cells of all the inmates, braving the catcalls and hoots along the way. In your white coat that conceals your figure, you feel secure, confident, not in the least bothered by the rowdiness and lewd comments thrown at you. The pristine white of your coat stands out amongst all the grey like a blinding light, painfully out of place, and the prisoners know that. They jeer as you walk past them, but you only give them your angelic smile, greeting them and asking how they’ve been.

You are late to your 2pm slot. A last-minute scheduling, a case that has been dropped by many junior psychiatrists until it was handed to someone more senior, like you. You’d thoroughly familiarized yourself with his case file last night, but when you step inside the cell that you always use for consultations, nothing prepares you to face your newest patient.

He is not bedraggled or covered with the dirt and grime that seems to be everywhere in this place. On the contrary, his blonde hair is slicked back neatly, parted on the side and revealing his forehead. His glasses are perched high up on his nose, even his prison issued jumpsuit seems to fit his lithe frame perfectly. The grey material is pulled tight over his shoulders, rolled up to his elbows in a manner which emphasizes his biceps. The front of it has its buttons undone to reveal a thin, white undershirt that clings to his chest. The rest of his body, however, is concealed behind the desk he is sitting behind.

But what pulls you in is the look on his face. Many of your patients are often broken products of the system, some of them don’t say a single word with you during your session, others ramble on incoherently. One of your patients had a condition where they’d laugh uncontrollably every other sentence. It’s all part and parcel of your job, nothing you haven’t seen before. But this man looks… interested.

He is well put together, intelligent, bright looking eyes tracking your every movement. His hands are laced together on top of the cold metal table that might have been repurposed from an operating table. His unwavering stare unsettles you as you take your seat. For the first time since you started working in this place, you feel uncertain, like you missed that last step coming down the stairs.

For a moment, you wonder if someone looking in on this scene would be able to tell who the psychiatrist is.

“Good afternoon, Mr Kim,” you place your manila folder down on the table.

He smiles serenely at your greeting.  If he is surprised at the formal way you refer to him, rather than his prisoner number, he doesn’t show it. “Hello, Doctor. Nice of you to make time for me today.”

“It’s my pleasure,” you nod at him, already even more impressed with how well-spoken he is. His voice is smooth, he sounds as if he could be giving a speech at the UN.

“You know, you have quite the reputation here,” Namjoon leans back in his seat, entirely at ease as he takes in your appearance from head to toe. His stare feels intimate, and then it occurs to you that just as you are here to evaluate him, he is appraising you as well.

“Oh really? Do tell,” you are genuinely interested now. “I figure you probably have an in with the rest here. You could really be helping me out.”

“Well.. let’s see. Graduated from college at the top of your class. Could have gone on to become a prestigious surgeon, have your own hospital and all that. But no. You chose to go into psychiatry. Chose to damn yourself, sully your pretty little self working in a place like this, just to figure out madmen like me.” Namjoon says all this in a matter of fact tone, as if he were reading an instruction manual. But the scary thing is, he is spot on. “So now you spend all your time locked up in this madhouse, talking to men who think about doing the most perverse, fucked up things to you while you sit right in front of them.”

“Is that what they say, or is that what you think?” You maintain a smile on your face. You’ve heard far worse before, but you never let any of them faze you.

“You caught me there,” Namjoon’s fa��ade breaks into a sheepish smile. “Most of it, yeah. My assessment of you, doc. The angel in the madhouse.”

“You’re right. Mostly, anyway,” you admit with an easy shrug. “I did choose psychiatry over general surgery. You’re good at reading people.”

“It’s what a psychopath like me specializes in,” he says this easily, as if he is talking about being good at math or how quick he is at learning to ride a bike. “We read people. Just from their mannerisms alone. We observe them, get into their heads, and we get inside of them. In the most intimate way possible.”

“You know, that isn’t too far from what a psychiatrist does either,” you twirl your pen, watching his eyes follow the motion like a lion stalking its prey. “You and me, we aren’t too different.”

Namjoon lets out a loud, full bellied laugh. “Oh, doll. We couldn’t be any more different. You’re so… good. A good girl. And I’m anything but.”

“What are you, then?”

Instead of answering, he fixes you with an amused look.

“People aren’t black and white, Namjoon. Just because you’re not good, doesn’t mean you are evil. Life doesn’t work like that.”

“I beg to differ. You know, here you have the guys who think they’ve done nothing wrong. In their point of view, they are the good guy, right? But then you have guys like me, guys who knowwhat they’ve done.” He leans forward now, sliding his hands along the table until you are painfully aware of how close they are to touching yours. “Who enjoy breaking people.”

You can feel his breath on your skin.

“Oh, I’ll enjoy breaking you, doll.” He finally sits back with a smile that sends the slightest hint of nerves fluttering in your stomach.

The buzzer rings, signaling the end of your session, and he gets up of his own accord, holds his hands out for the handcuffs that are slapped onto him by the prison orderlies. Before he leaves, though, he shoots you a salacious smile over his shoulder.

“See you next time, doll.”

*

“Tell me, doc. Aren’t you curious at all?”

“About what?”

In this room, there are only two of you. But you know that at any one point in time, there are eyes on you. There are armed guards keeping watch outside this cell, ready to strike should anything go wrong.

“I said last session that I was thinking of doing the most perverse and disgusting things to you while you sit in front of me, all prim and proper. Don’t you want to know what they are?”

He wants to elicit some sort of reaction out of you. Namjoon is watching you closely for any reaction at all, but you know his tactics all too well. He is trying every trick in the book, starting with the one he thinks will work best. Practically dangling bait in front of you, hoping that you will bite.

Today, he is wrapped up in a straitjacket, his arms crossed over his front because of a transgression committed earlier this week that deemed him a threat. Yet, his mannerisms aren’t the slightest bit affected. He speaks with the confidence of a foreign diplomat, his eyes roving about your person as if he owns you.

“I thought you said it was the others who were thinking of me like that. Not you.”

Snagged, Namjoon lets out a small chuckle. “You got me there, doll.”

His admission does not fool you. Someone like Kim Namjoon wouldn’t let themselves get backed into a corner or admit something that they weren’t already willing to give away. It’s all just a game to him.

“You’re so pretty. As always,” Namjoon smiles, a charming grin that makes your heart beat a little faster. “You know, we all love seeing you. It’s the only thing that brightens our days in here.”

Seeing him face to face like this, it’s so hard to differentiate him from the Kim Namjoon that you know from his casefile. Multiple homicides, drug use, violent crime, and worst of all, the torture he subjected his victims to.

Looking at him like this, he could be your English professor in college.

“Do me a favour will you? Just one, tiny little thing,” he implores, an innocent look on his face.

Wariness creeps in at the edges of your consciousness, but you find yourself pushing it away.

“It depends on what you’re asking for.”

“My favourite colour is purple.” His next statement catches you even more off guard, because you expected something outrageous like demanding to shorten his sentence or get him on parole. “But everything is just so fucking grey in here. The only spot of colour we- Iget to see is you.”

He leans forward, with some difficulty now with his straitjacket. Namjoon’s voice has dropped to an intimate whisper, his eyes dipping down to linger on your lips. It prompts you to lean forward as well so that you can catch his next words.

“Wear something purple for me, won’t you, babydoll? I just need some colour in my life,” he begs so prettily, and it’s such an innocent request, you can’t find anything insidious in it. “But for our sessions only. It’ll be our little secret.”

His voice trails off, and you can see the hint of possessiveness in his eyes that sends a thrill down your spine, that holds dark promises of what would happen if you wore that colour for someone else.

The buzzer rings. He doesn’t wait for a confirmation from you, just gets up obediently and turns to the guards. The heavy doors close, and you are left alone in the cold, sterile room.

*

“Dr _____... I live for these moments with you.” Kim Namjoon isn’t his usual, composed self today. His eyes are alight, dancing with mirth the moment you walk into the cell.

He spots the lavender blouse that you have on today, covered by your doctor’s coat, of course. Namjoon only has a few seconds to take in the lemon-yellow pencil skirt that you have on before you take a seat opposite him. He is smiling like the cat that caught the canary.

“Thank you for honouring my request,” he says with another charming smile, and today because the straitjacket is off, he reaches across the table with his hands, long and slim fingers laced together.

“It was a minor inconvenience, of course,” you sigh dramatically. “Didn’t have anything purple in my wardrobe, I realized. Had to go on a shopping spree and treat myself for the first time in a long while.”

“I’m sorry you enjoyed yourself because of me,” Namjoon banters back, and you giggle with your hand over your mouth.

He watches you laugh with a smile that crinkles the corners of his mouth, emphasizing his dimples.

“What is it like outside, doctor?” He asks with a beguiling smile, tilting his head as he watches you digest the question. “What’s the best thing you love about being outside? Is it the colour of the sky, or the warmth of the sun on your skin?”

Again, his questions are so innocent, that you can’t possibly believe how many people he’s tortured and murdered. How many of his own gang members he killed. Kim Namjoon’s innocent dimples are on full display as he searches your expression.

“I like… I like how the sky is boundless. At any one time, if I look up at it, I feel… free. Like I can go anywhere I want to.” Your thoughts wander, taking you outside of this sterile, heavily guarded prison cell until you can almost feel the breeze on your cheeks. But then, the heavy clank of a prison door somewhere outside brings you back to reality, and you realise what you’ve just said in front of someone who’s been sentenced to this mental asylum for life.

A part of you expects him to lunge across the table for your throat. But Kim Namjoon has not moved a single muscle. Instead, the smile on his face is ever present, dimples and all, and you can’t help but detect something sinister in it. But instead of making you feel uneasy, it thrillsyou.

Is this what it feels like to be dancing with the devil?

He lets out a contented sigh, as if he’s living in the memories you just described. “So innocent, doctor. That’s what I like about you. You remind me of how the world would look like if everything was good.”

Somehow, his approval feels good. It feels right.

“Do me a favour, will you?” Namjoon opens his eyes from his brief escape into fantasy. “Dance for me, little swan.”

“Dance?” You hesitate. “I can’t dance… I don’t know how to…”

“Then twirl,” he says, not giving you time to fumble about in your own lack of self-esteem. “Twirl for me, pretty thing.”

You reluctantly get up, seeing the hope in his eyes as he watches your every move. You are more self-conscious than you’ve ever been in this place, especially so when he bids you to take off your doctor’s coat. Without it, without the sense of validation and authority it affords you, you begin to feel like the tables have turned between you and Kim Namjoon. That really, he’s the one evaluating you.

You leave your coat on the back of the chair. Placing your feet together, you start to spin slowly, feeling the brush of your skirt against your thighs elevate your heart rate. You go faster, feeling the breeze of your own making caress your hair. All this while you are aware of his eyes on you, tracking your every movement like a predator stalking its prey. A laugh escapes your lips as you put your arms out for balance; but all it takes is one misstep, and suddenly you find yourself in the arms of a mass murderer.

Kim Namjoon sets you upright again, his lithe arms feel strong as you clutch his biceps. His frame towers over you, and it is only then that you realise how much power he exudes, just from his aura alone. How did he even move that quickly?

“Careful, Doctor. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt, now would we?” The beats of your heart count off the seconds that he holds you in his arms, and it feels like an eternity before he lets you go. “Only I get to do that. Only I can hurt you, babydoll.”

His eyes dip to your lips, and he places his hand on your chin, running a thumb along your bottom lip. You feel the pad of his thumb dampen with your saliva, and you can hardly breathe.

“You would look good with red lipstick,” he comments casually, dropping his hand from your face and taking a step back.

As if on cue, the buzzer rings, and the prison orderlies rush in to corral him into his handcuffs, lead him back to his cage. He keeps his eyes on you as he is dragged out of the room, on the way your chest heaves as you struggle to catch your breath.

*

A knock sounds at the door of your office. A little hesitant, but more insistent the second time round.

“Doctor? You’re late for your session with Prisoner 120994.” It’s the intern who does the administrative scheduling for the psychiatrists, Jeon Jeongguk. The number catches you off guard for a moment, until you connect the dots. You haven’t thought of Kim Namjoon as Prisoner 120994 for the longest time.

You take a moment longer as you stare at your reflection in the small hand mirror, contemplating the red lipstick on your desk. But it clashes with your violet cardigan, and the whole look is just messy.

The knock comes again, and you hastily throw off your cardigan, apply your lipstick, and gather your white coat.

“Dr _____, you’ll be la- oh. Um, Prisoner 120994 is waiting, Dr _____.” Jeongguk awkwardly swings the door open wider so that you can get past him. “You look… you look different today. New lipstick?”

“Just trying something new,” you shrug it off casually as he follows behind you like a puppy.

“Not only today, you’ve been looking different lately!” Jeongguk is quick to add on.

You are almost halfway to your consultation cell, but Jeongguk is still following you. He doesn’t let up until you stand before the armed guards. They open the door, and you see that Namjoon is already seated in his usual seat. He cranes his neck to catch a glimpse of you, his usual charming smile primed to greet you, but it fades when he sees Jeongguk.

“… the new style looks really good on you!” Jeongguk is bright eyed as he grins at you.

You cast him a cold glare. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to work, intern? I don’t need an escort to walk me to my sessions.”

Without waiting for a response, you enter the cell, the door slamming behind you. Shooting Namjoon an apologetic smile, you sit down across him, arranging your files on the cold metal table in front of you.

“Who was that?”

“Oh, it was…” your voice trails off upon seeing the dark look on his face. “It was our admin intern. He’s young, so he’s still pretty immature. But he gets work done, so…”

Namjoon is no longer interested in your answer. Instead, he is appraising your person, from the way you nervously arrange the papers on the desk, to your inability to meet his gaze.

“The lipstick doeslook good on you, Doctor,” he relents finally, and you are able to relax for the first time since you stepped foot in this cell a few moments ago. His gaze feels more intimate than ever as he practically eye-fucks you, lingering on the low neckline of your light blue strappy top. “But it seems like you wanted Jeongguk to see it instead of me.”

“No! Jeongguk is… he’s no one. No one compared to you,” Feeling like a scolded child, your cheeks heat up in shame.

“Aren’t you forgetting something else, too?” Namjoon is relentless, raising a brow at your outfit of choice today.

At once, you jump to your own defense, but your voice trails off in uncertainty. “It clashed with the lipstick! And so I didn’t know…”

“Did it?” He expresses doubt, his eyes still eating up every inch of exposed skin on your chest. It ignites a fire in your lower belly, makes the entire room heat up.

“But I wore something else that’s purple,” you’re quick to continue, eager to earn back his approval.

His eyebrow perks up with a lazy, lethal interest, like a jaguar flicking its tail, contemplating a potential kill. “What is that, babydoll?”

Your heart is in your throat. Knowing exactly where the security cameras are located in this room, you angle your body as you scoot your chair closer to the table. Then, you lean forward ever so deliberately until you’re sure that he can get a good peek of your lilac lace bra down your shirt, and the smirk of approval sends adrenaline singing through your veins.

This is so wrong. You could be fired for this.

But then why does being wrong feel so right?

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me,” he lets out a single, vehement curse, his eyes unable to leave that sweet spot of your cleavage pushed together by your bra. “Today it’s your bra, but next time… next time I’ll be sucking on your pretty pink nipples.”

Hearing him praise you is the best feeling in the world. And even better is how he can’t take his eyes off you.

Taking advantage of the fact that the security cameras in this room are only filming your back, you reach into the sleeve of your coat and lower the straps of your top, so that it falls down your chest, fully exposing your breasts in your lilac lace bra to his view.

“Now I’m not forgetting anything, am I?” You voice is breathless as you watch his eyes travel greedily across your cleavage, licking his lips. “We should continue our session like this.”

Namjoon lets out a chuckle. “Oh, babydoll. You think I can concentrate on what you’re saying if you look like that?”

“Then don’t,” the words come out of your mouth, and you didn’t even realise you were this brave.

“Remember those perverse, disgusting things I mentioned during our first session, Doctor?” He leans forward for a better look at your breasts, watching as they begin to heave up and down because of your heavy breathing.

“Yes. I want to hear them.”

“You’re so… good,” Namjoon whispers, as if to himself. “I want to hurt you so, so bad, babydoll. Fuck every single hole you have until you are brimming with cum. I want to tie you up to the bed, legs spread permanently and make you my little cum slut. Just a receptacle for holding my cum, and if you dare to let any spill out, I’ll choke you with my cock until you pass out. When I finally let your pretty little pussy have my cock, it won’t be vanilla sex like you’re used to with that loser Jeongguk. I’ll brand you with my cum, and you’ll be my breeding slut. Forever reduced to carrying my babies. I will own you. I will break you so good, baby doll, and I will hurt you really, really bad.”

“I can take it,” you answer eagerly. “Anything you want to do to me. I can take it. I want it.”

He laughs again, almost in delight at your compliance. “So obedient. So innocent. You don’t know how badly I can hurt you, babydoll.”

You shake your head vehemently, leaning forward to offer him a view of your cleavage. “I don’t care. I want it.”

A slow, satisfied smile spreads across Namjoon’s face. “If you really want it, babygirl…”

“Yes, I want it,” he has reduced you to incoherency.

“… you’re going to have to help me with it.” Namjoon reaches forward to trace a pattern on the top of your hand, and it feels like your nipples are so hard, they’re aching for his touch. The single point of contact between you and him has your entire body heating up, your thighs rubbing against each other, and your panties drenched.

You nod immediately. “Anything. Whatever you need.”

“If we’re going to fuck, we need a place where we won’t be watched. As much as I want to hurt you, that sight is for my eyes only. I don’t like sharing my toys with others.”

“I understand-“

“Now, there’s going to be a system maintenance next Monday, exactly three days from now,” Namjoon continues calmly, his eyes razor sharp as they lock in on you, no longer clouded with lust. “All the security systems will be offline until the first bedcheck at 6am. At exactly 3.05am, there will be a change in shift, and there won’t be anyone watching my cell. It takes 9 minutes. You need to come and get me out of my cell. And then… then we can talk about how bad you’re willing to get hurt.”

“How will I… how will I get the key?” It doesn’t even occur to you to question how he knows all this information.

“You’re smart, babygirl. You’ll figure it out,” he strokes your chin with his thumb, admiring how your red lipstick smears when he brushes it against your lips. “Already a mess for me. I can’t wait to wreck you, baby girl.”

“I’ll do it,” you reassure him, only to be rewarded with his approving smile.

“Cover yourself, babydoll. The buzzer is about to go off.” Namjoon sits back in his seat as you snap back into reality, following his instructions as you pull the straps of your top back on your shoulders. He looks a little sorry to see you covered back up.

As predicted, the buzzer rings, and the doors fling open.

The guards come in to take him away, and you don’t even question his near supernatural ability to keep track of time so accurately, even though there isn’t a clock in this room. Even you lose track of time during your sessions with him, forgetting to look at your watch that you keep hidden.

All you can see is him.

*

“Everything okay? You’ve been stirring that coffee for the past five minutes.” A voice jerks you out of your daze.

Min Yoongi, the head prison warden, strolls in lazily, twirling his all-access card in his hand. You almost salivate at the sight of it. It’s all too convenient. His access card is the only way for you to get into the room with all the keys to the prisoners’ cells.

He slips it into his back pocket carelessly.

There’s no one in the common pantry that all the staff in the mental asylum share. It’s the perfect chance.

You turn around, immediately spotting how his eyes are drawn to the low neckline of your top. So the rumours were true. Just a little bit of cleavage and the man will roll over like a puppy begging for a belly rub.

“Just tired, is all,” you smile jovially, dropping the empty coffee sachet on the floor not so accidentally. When you bend over to pick it up, you make sure he gets a good look down your shirt.

As you straighten up, you catch a glimpse of his dazed stare. You take it as an opportunity to step closer so that your bodies are almost pressed up against each other.

“Say… what are you doing this weekend? Are you free, by any chance?” You let your eyes linger on his lips, angling your head so that more of your neck is exposed to him. You can feel his breath, hot and heavy on your skin.

“Th-this weekend? Su..sure, I’m free, yeah,” he stumbles over his words, hands coming up to hover around your ass, still unsure of himself.

You gently coax his hands, his right hand resting on your butt cheek, and the other on your waist. He gropes your ass immediately, unable to control himself. In return, you giggle playfully, sliding your hand down to his ass in a show of flirting as well.

Closing the gap between your bodies, you press your breasts against him, lowering your lips to his ear. “You should come over. My roommate is out and we’ll have the whole place… to- our-selves.”

You emphasize the last three syllables, noticing the way his breathing picks up as a result. You deftly slide your hand out of his pocket, patting his ass as you wink at him. “Call me!”

As he watches you go with lustful eyes, your step has an extra flourish, hips swaying to give him a good show. But what he can’t see is the satisfaction on your face as you kiss the access card, sliding it into your bra for safe keeping.

*

Having worked in Hope World Mental Asylum for the Criminally Insane for the past nine years, you know your way around it like the back of your hand. The guard routes, security camera positions, emergency exits. Basically, you have the map of it memorized.

Earlier that week, you signed yourself up for the graveyard shift, which of course no one wanted. No one even asked why you wanted that shift, all too glad to clock off and leave you alone in your office.

The silence is deafening as you watch the minute hand crawl closer and closer to the ‘1’ mark. At 3.04am, you get up silently, having dressed in a black hoodie and black jeans, with sneakers to go along with it. You let yourself out of your office, clutching the access card as you make your way to the control room where all the keys are kept.

From your office to the control room is only 50 steps. Less than a minute later, you are in and out, grabbing the keys from a hook labelled ‘120994’.

From the control room to his cell is another 80 steps. It takes you one minute to get to his cell, and you see him pacing back and forth like a caged tiger. He stops as he spots you, his features lighting up with a dimpled grin.

Another 10 seconds to unlock his cell. And then he is out.

The caged beast is no longer so.

You expected him to sweep you into his embrace at once, kiss you until you can’t remember your name. But all he does is take your hand in his, breaking into a run and forcing you to keep up with him. Your footsteps are silent as he leads you down the rabbit’s hole, twisting and turning until you lose track of where you’re going.

Down flights and flights of stairs, out of a door labelled emergency exit that you never came across before. And then it is down a dark tunnel that never seems to end.

When he finally stops, you are out of breath. “Wh-where are we?”

Namjoon is not winded in the slightest. It’s obvious that he is at peak physical condition, and he turns to you, front buttons of his grey prison issued jumpsuit undone. “We’re underground, babydoll. A place where they’ll never find us.”

A quick look around tells you that this might have been a medical ward a long time ago. Operating tables, not unlike the one you have in your consultation room, are strewn about. Only thing is, these tables have limb restraints attached to them. Broken syringes lie on the floor, electroconvulsive therapy machines are abandoned in the corner. Years of disuse has not done this room any good.

You should feel vulnerable in a place like this that could have come from one of Stephen King’s novels. Trapped in close proximity with a madman who prowls the room’s perimeter.

But all you feel is exhilaration and anticipation for what is to come.

You watch his biceps tense as he runs his fingers through his hair, turning around to face you. “A place where you’re all mine.”

He stalks towards you, eyes glinting in the darkness. “We have all the time in the world, babydoll. And I told you before. I’m going to break you so, so bad.”

“I want it,” your voice comes out in a near whisper as he backs you toward the wall, caging you in with his lithe arms.

His broad shoulders pin you against the wall, and he forces your chin up so that he can finally kiss you. Namjoon’s lips are rough, his teeth not showing mercy as he owns your mouth. His hands roam the expanse of your body, groping first your ass, then palming your breasts in his large hands.

He is like a drug you can’t get enough of. Every lick of his tongue is intoxicating, his lips pull you in deeper into your descent. There’s no going back now. But of course, you knew this all along.

Namjoon pulls away with swollen lips, toned chest panting as he picks you up around the waist. His strength only serves to make you even more beguiled by him, and you have to touch his biceps to feel how they tense and strain under your weight.

He treats you like a ragdoll as he tosses you onto the metal table, climbing onto of you and spreading your thighs with his legs. Namjoon takes a moment to admire how pretty you look with your hair all splayed out across the metal table. In a single motion, he strips your body of your black hoodie with a crazed look in his eyes, annoyed with not being able to see and touch your bare skin. He brings both of your hands up by your head, straps them in with the restraints before you even realise it.

Namjoon has his thumb on your chin. “Open,” he orders, and you obediently part your lips.

He spits right into your mouth, admiring the way his saliva is collected on the back of your tongue.

“Swallow, then show me,” he demands, and you swallow down his spit, opening to show him an empty mouth. “That’s my babydoll.”

He kisses down your body, looking for the first time, unhinged as he feasts on the sweetness of your skin. Namjoon fascinates himself by spitting on your breasts, watching his spittle run down the crevices of your body, into your cleavage, soaked up by your lavender lace bra.

Then, in a sudden movement, he tears your bra to pieces, the underwire ripping your skin and making you gasp in exhilaration. The raw display of strength, the primal desire in his eyes as he sees the crimson stain on your pretty, smooth skin. One finger swipes across the newly made wound, gathering the blood and bringing it to his mouth.

“Sweeter than I imagined,” he says as if in a trance, mesmerized by the way your blood tastes.

Then he dips his finger in the crimson liquid once more, tracing patterns down your belly as he caresses your waist, until he comes to the waistband of your jeans.

“I had hoped you would be in slightly more suitable attire… but I guess this is for practicality’s sake,” he muses, flicking open the button with practiced ease. Namjoon slides your jeans down your legs, hands lingering on every inch of exposed skin as he goes. He tosses your jeans somewhere on the floor, leaving you in your flimsy lace panties that are already soaked to the core.

He brushes two fingers experimentally against the wet patch. “Tell me darling. How would you like to live dangerously?”

When he pulls your panties down, you are so wet that you can smell yourself. Embarrassment heats your cheeks as Namjoon scents your arousal, biting his lower lip in response.

“Look at you. Already so wet, your pussy is begging to be destroyed.” He spreads your pussy lips with two fingers, exposing your delicate insides lewdly as he examines you thoroughly. “Tell me whose pussy this is.”

“Y-yours, it’s yours. Forever. If you want it.” You respond immediately to the warning tap on your inner thigh.

Namjoon chuckles, a low, dangerous sound that you can feel directly in your core. “We’ll see how well it can take cock first. I’m going to tear your pussy apart, then we’ll see if you still want to offer it to me.”

When he reaches your ankles, he imparts a kiss to each one before he straps them in. You can feel the leather restraints tight against your skin, so that you are left spread-eagled on the metal table.

“So perfect,” Namjoon smiles to himself, licking your essence off his fingertips. “Just waiting for me to break you.”

Every second that you don’t feel his touch on your body is a moment of torture. “Namjoon,” you sob, arching your breasts to the ceiling.

“Beg for it,” he whispers, slapping your breasts roughly so that he can watch them bounce under his force. He pinches your nipples hard, reveling in your screams as he tweaks your pleasure. “All you have to do is say the word. ‘Pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty…”

“Please,” you gasp, thighs aching with the strain of trying to rub against each other. You can feel yourself dripping onto the table underneath you already. “Pretty please.”

“Good girl,” Namjoon sighs in delight, taking in the trails of dried blood on your tummy. Your hardened nipples are begging to be tasted, but he isn’t done with them yet.

He spots what he’s looking for on the floor a couple of paces away. Leaving your side to pick them up, he attaches the electric clamps onto your nipples, causing you to wail out in pain and pleasure. Of course, there’s no current active between them, since this place has been abandoned for god knows how long, but this will have to do.

“Now, let me eat my babydoll’s pussy.” He finally invites himself to feast on the delicacy in between your legs that he’s been dreaming of ever since the first time he set eyes on you.

The first lick has you thrashing on the table, tears leaking and streaking your mascara down your cheeks. His tongue continues to probe your clit, circling it torturously as two fingers plunge themselves into you without warning.

Having this intelligent, well-spoken man who could probably run for president in between your legs makes you heady with desire. The lust filled moans reverberate in the empty, abandoned medical ward, mixing with the filthy sounds of Namjoon as he tongues your cunt. Two lithe fingers are buried deep, thrusting and seeking out that sensitive spot inside you.

The word slips out before you realise it. “Daddy… let me cum. Wanna cum.”

He pauses at this, letting out a harkened laugh with your juices still dripping from his mouth. “A pretty little girl like you, with a Daddy kink? Oh, this is too perfect. I’ll fuck all the daddy issues right out of you, babydoll.”

And then his tongue is back on your clit, he adds another finger to your cunt to stretch you out even more. Your thighs are twitching, heels banging against the metal table as you convulse under his touch.

“Don’t cum.” He commands, slapping your clit sharply. “You’re not allowed to cum until Daddy says.”

“Please, please stop, I can’t hold it back,” you beg and please, thighs straining to close. You are almost at the edge of your orgasm, one more lick of his devious tongue would send you right over.

Namjoon gives a disappointed sigh, eyes flicking to your tear stained face. Like a predator toying with its prey, he decides to let you off just this once.

“Fine. Meanwhile, I’ll use your pretty little mouth.” A series of movements follow, and you strain your neck to catch a glimpse of what he’s doing.

And it is a glorious sight. Namjoon pushes the sleeves of his prison issued jumpsuit down his well-muscled arms, exposing the thin white shirt underneath. It clings to his defined chest, slightly matted with sweat. But the real prize comes when he pushes the jumpsuit below his waist, and you realise that underwear is probably the only thing that is not prison issued.

The sight of his long, hard cock, angry and red greets you. One hand pushes the rest of the jumpsuit down, the other strokes his length and gathers the precum on his palm to provide a better glide. He catches you staring with a smirk, his abs tensing as he puts on a show for you.

Namjoon kicks his jumpsuit off, walking to the head of the table. He strokes your cheek gently, then slaps it hard, leaving a red imprint behind. He digs his fingers into your cheeks, forcing you to tilt your head up uncomfortably to make eye contact with him.

“Open,” he says, as if you were nothing but another orifice to pleasure himself with.

You can only imagine how much he’s been dying to do this. When was the last time he got off? Your lips part obediently, offering your throat as a vessel for his pleasure.

He rests his cock on your bottom lip, smearing his precum all over your chin. Namjoon grasps himself and moves the tip of his cock to your reddened cheek, spreading the precum over the imprint of his hand. Satisfied with his handiwork, he finally slides his cock into your mouth, and then you are filled with the taste of him.

His cock is hot and heavy on your tongue, his pre cum fills your throat with its saltiness as he thrusts hard. The tip of his cock hits your throat, and you can already start to feel how raw it is as he face fucks you. His balls are hitting your face repeatedly with every thrust, so you have to close your eyes and surrender your mouth to him completely.

“Your every breath belongs to me,” Namjoon emphasizes his statement with every thrust of his cock. “If you breathe, it’ll be because I allowed you to. Got that, slut?”

He punctuates this with a slap to your breasts, causing your nipples to twinge from the clamps. Namjoon then releases the clamps and tosses them aside so that he can bend down to take an abused nipple into his mouth while he fucks your face.

Every few thrusts, Namjoon buries his cock all the way in your throat, forcing you to deepthroat him. Your throat convulses around him as spit and precum drip out the sides of your mouth. Then, he decides to push his cock all the way in and keep it there, actively depriving you of your air supply. His balls are heavy on your face, smothering you.

“Shit!” He pulls his cock away from your mouth after what seems like eternity. “You have such a good mouth for cock-sucking, babydoll. Do you ever suck Jeongguk’s cock like that? Hmmm? Tell Daddy what a cock slut you are.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No! I’m just a cockslut for you. Only you.”

Namjoon chuckles darkly, before shutting you up as he places his balls on your chin. “Shut up and suck my balls, slut.”

You lave your tongue around him, taking one of his testicles into your mouth and playing with it, careful to keep your teeth from grazing them accidentally. By now, your makeup is smeared all over your face, sticky precum coating every inch of your skin, and he has rubbed his balls and cock all over your face, treating you like a sex doll.

You can feel how heavy his balls are as you switch to the other one. Namjoon groans, almost in pain as you suck dutifully.

“Fuck, I have so much fucking cum for you, babydoll. I want to fucking drown you in cum. But the only place I’ll be putting it is in your pretty pussy. Good girls like you love having a cum filled pussy, don’t they? You can’t live unless your pussy has been well-fucked and creamed. You’ll let any random man fill your pussy with cum, won’t you?”

You make a muffled sound in your throat, and Namjoon sighs impatiently, as if anything you have to say is an inconvenience to him. He pulls his balls from your mouth. “What is it, slut?”

“I’ve- I’ve never let anyone cum inside me before-“

“Oh? Never let another man cum inside you?” He reacts with genuine surprise, slapping one breast harshly again. By now, your tits are red and swollen with his handprints all over them. “Never felt a man’s cock pulse as he paints your womb with his cum? Never felt the warmth of his semen in your pussy, travelling through your pretty little body in search of your egg?”

“Never,” you say truthfully, entirely enraptured by his dark, gleaming eyes.

For a moment, he is silent, and you almost think that you can see a glimmer of something that you haven’t quite seen before when it comes to Namjoon. It is soft, tender, but gone in a split second before you had a chance to ascertain that you saw it for real.

“Then I’ll be the first, babydoll.” The luscious grin is back as he makes his way in between your legs, cock probing your inner thighs and staining them with pre-cum. “Beg for my cock.”

You perform for him, as if on cue. “Please, please, please, fuck me. Fuck me so hard and break me, Daddy. I can take it, I promise. Be the first man to cum inside me.”

“What would your parents say if they saw you like this, hmmm?” Namjoon runs the tip of his cock against your slit, slapping it a few times. “All bound up, legs spread, mouth used and begging to get fucked by a madman. Begging for a criminal’s cock.”

Your laugh sounds foreign to your ears. It resounds in the dim room, it is unhinged, on the verge of catatonic.

“They would be proud of me,” you say with a wide grin, and it prompts a belly laugh from Namjoon.

“Give it to me, Daddy,” you bite your bottom lip, canting your hips up in invitation. “I want it all.”

Namjoon gazes down at you with a look of deranged pride at your bruised and broken body, finally feeding you his cock one inch at a time. He spreads your pussy with two fingers as he thrusts the rest of the way in, marrying your hips together with a flex of his thick thighs.

“So fucking tight, I’m going to have so much fun ruining this pussy,” Namjoon all but cackles as he begins to fuck you, every stroke deep and purposeful.

You can only giggle, all caution thrown to the wind as you watch the sweat start to collect on his body. “I’m already broken, Daddy. Use me as you please.”

So Namjoon doesn’t stand on courtesy. He pumps in and out of your cunt, watching your breasts bounce violently from the force of his thrusts. Your walls mold around his cock as if you were made for him, made to take his fucking like his very own plaything.

He places his hands on either side of your waist as he ruts into you like a filthy animal, and you can see from the way his muscles strain and flex that he is putting every single ounce of energy he has into fucking your pussy. Namjoon’s eyes glimmer with a primordial urge, and you let yourself fantasise that you are his last meal. That he is an inmate placed on death row, and his last, dying wish is to fuck a baby into you.

Your pussy clenches involuntarily, and Namjoon slaps your cheek hard.

“What were you thinking about, slut?” He demands, keeping up the brutal pace as the head of his cock assaults your cervix with every thrust.

“M-making you a baby daddy,” you confess with a sinful leer, mouth open and gasping in pain as he slams into your cervix again.

“Oh? Babydoll read my mind,” Namjoon’s lips curl into a nefarious smile. “Ever since you walked into my cell, all I wanted to do is get you pregnant with my child. Fill you up with so much cum so that there’s no way you won’t get pregnant by the time I’m done with you.”

“Do it, please,” you beg, pussy dripping at the thought of him making you heavy and round with his child. It would be your greatest pleasure to carry his baby, to feel a part of him grow inside you, to walk around in public carrying the baby of an insane criminal.

“I’m gonna make you remember how well I broke you,” Namjoon growls into your skin, his voice is a deep rumble as he brands you with his cock. His girth feels as if it is splitting you apart, you can feel the head of his cock so deep, that if you were to touch your stomach, you might feel his cock there. “For the rest of your life, babydoll. I’m gonna cum so deep in your womb, gonna put a baby right here.”

His hand comes to rest on your lower stomach.

“Then I’m going to let you go with a womb full of my cum, and you’re going to walk out of this place with my baby inside you. You’re going to grow so big and swollen that when people see you, they’ll know you’ve been fucked by a psychopath,” Namjoon licks a stripe up your neck, his teeth sinking into the lobe of your ear. “Inseminated by a madman. Bred by a criminal.”

“I’ll give you all the babies you want,” you are desperate to feel him pulse inside you. “Visit you in prison and let Daddy knock me up over and over. Be your little prison breeding slut.”

A derisive chuckle comes from him as he fondles your clit. At this stage, you are so fucked out, cock drunk and desperate for his cum. You couldn’t possibly have any idea what he’s planning.

“That’s right, babydoll. Now stay still and let Daddy do his job. We only get one chance, so Daddy’s got to make sure he fucks a baby into you now.” The urgency in his voice is lost on you as his hips start to hammer into your cunt, driving his cock so deep until you are crying from the intricate mix of pain and pleasure.

You have no idea how you managed to get this far without cumming, but the tension in your lower belly is right at the brink of snapping. Still, you wait for his permission, and judging from his breathing, he is getting close. His thrusts are getting sloppy, his face buried into your shoulder as he chases after his release.

“Cum for me now. Squeeze my cock like the whore you are,” Namjoon breathes into your shoulder, finally giving you the go ahead.

His resounding groan as he fucks into your tightening pussy encourages you to let him hear how good he’s making you feel. Your screams of his name echo inside the abandoned room as your pussy clamps down around his cock, trying its best to milk him dry of every drop of cum.

“Milk me, you fucking cumslut, squeeze me dry,” he demands, slamming into you one last time before he releases with a loud groan, every pulse of his cock sending spurts of semen deep into your womb where it belongs. His fingers tighten around your thighs, leaving behind blue black bruises. “You better get every drop of cum if you want to get pregnant, whore.”

And you work for his cum, the aftershocks of your orgasm making your walls clench around him rhythmically. He is so deep, you can feel the spurts of his cum directly at your cervix, bathing it generously as your womb swallows it down greedily.

When you feel as if the spurts of cum have stopped, you expect him to pull out. But you realise that his cock still remains hard in your well fucked cunt. Namjoon’s chest is heaving, sweat dripping off every crevice of his muscled torso as he slowly begins to thrust his cock in and out of your creamy pussy.

“Daddy’s got to fuck his cum inside your womb,” he says with his eyes glued to the mess between your legs, watching his semen froth up on his cock. “Be a good doll and don’t let any of it escape.”

His thrusts are slower, but deeper now as he makes sure that his balls hit your ass with every thrust. You can feel how sloppy your pussy is, even if you can’t see the cum on Namjoon’s cock. Your inner thighs are wet and sticky, and you whine like a spoiled toddler.

“Daddy… you’re fucking me so hard.It’s all coming out,” you say with a pout. “How am I gonna give Daddy a baby if he fucks all his cum out of my pussy?”

A definitive throb of his cock inside you tells you that you hit his soft spot. “Daddy’ll have to fill you up again then babydoll.”

This time, a finger circles your clit, pulling the knot in your belly tighter as he fucks into you. You tense up immediately, feeling incredibly sloppy as he fucks the cum deeper into your pussy.

“Can I cum? Daddy, can I cum?” You beg, feeling his cock twitching as he hits you with deep thrusts.

“Cum for me, babydoll. Pull all that sweet cum deep inside your womb where it belongs. Give us a baby,” he cajoles, and the squeezing of your sweet, cum slippery walls in your orgasm rewards him. “Fuck, take my fucking cum. Take all of it!”

For the second time that night, you feel his cum flood your pussy, and he tilts your hips up as he roars his pleasure, fucking your cervix raw and open. His thrusts slow as his spurts of cum weaken, and soon, he is plugging your pussy up with his cum.

“My pretty babydoll,” he runs his tongue up the side of your face, kissing the side of your mouth. “Took my cum so well. It’ll be a miracle if you weren’t pregnant after tonight.”

“Daddy…” you eyelids flutter in exhaustion.

He gives you a final kiss on your forehead, smearing the precum on your face one last time before he pushes himself away from you.

You hear him fiddling with the restraints at your wrists and ankles. A moment later, your limbs are free, and you adjust your position so that your thighs are close together, cradling the precious gift of life that Hehas bestowed you with.

“Rest, babydoll.”

You hear his voice getting more and more distant as he moves about the room. Attempting to open your eyes to follow his movement, you see him rummaging for something in the drawers, and then the sound of paper tearing.

“Wh- what are you…?”

Then, he is back by your side, a large, warm hand on your forehead, forcing you back down again. A pinprick on your arm, and then everything goes black.

*

When you wake up, it is to darkness and musk.

And god, the ache in your entire body.

You move your legs, grimacing at the stickiness in between them. When you sit up, you can feel globs of cum leak down your inner thigh. You run your fingers through it reverently, bringing it to your lips for a taste and closing your eyes in sheer pleasure as you lick every bit of His cum.

How much time has passed? How long were you out cold for?

Glancing around, you slowly recall the events that transpired. The warmth in your slightly swollen belly that reminds you of the life that you have been tasked to nurture. The used needle on the ground beside you that is probably the reason why you were knocked out.

A giggle passes your lips as you scan the room for any traces of Him, but of course, he isn’t here anymore. But it doesn’t matter. He’s long gone, escaped into the night like thin air.

But he chose you.

You want to jump up and down, hug yourself in delight. But you mustn’t spill any more of His cum. You have to make sure it takes, make sure your belly becomes swollen with his child, just as he intended, so that he can see from wherever he is.

You throw your head back as catatonic laughter takes over you, peals of it resounding in the dark basement of the abandoned medical ward.

*

EPILOGUE

Your lips curl up in a secret smile when they ask. Words of ‘Congratulations! Who’s the baby daddy?’ only make your heart race.

Your swollen stomach is increasing in size with His gift, slowly, day by day.

Min Yoongi’s curious eyes linger on the swell of your belly. “You know… you never gave me your number that night.”

But you ignore him, stirring your coffee serenely.

“And, next up on the nine pm news. Sightings of mass murderer Kim Namjoon in the vicinity have been reported, but two months after his escape from the Hope World Mental Asylum for the Criminally Insane, police still haven’t been able to track him down. The state has initiated a full-scale manhunt for the criminal, but all efforts have proved to be futile…”

You stroke your belly with a peaceful smile, looking at his picture on the television screen. Handsome as ever.

They should just give up. No one in this entire world can find Kim Namjoon. Not even you.

But you’re not worried. Because you know he’ll come back for you, and meanwhile, you’ll proudly show the world how swollen you are because of Him. And when he does come back, it’ll be to fuck another baby into you.

Because after all, you are his chosen. His one and only.

[2manyfandoms2count]

I love you (not) - Chapter 9

Tackling two prompts of @marichatmay again ('take a break' and 'cuddles'), it's probably not going to help much with catching up on the schedule but it's okay.

We are now a little over a third into the story, and... Are those real feelings that are emerging in the fake relationship? Perhaps... Still quite a bit of oblivious dumbassery to go, though, else it wouldn't be fun :D Hope you enjoy!

First | Previous | AO3 | Next

---

Chapter 9: In which Marinette gets mixed up in her checklist

"I'm sure I'm missing something…" Marinette mumbled as she read through her extensive to-do list of the day, tapping her pencil against her chin.

School

HomeworkFrench: Dissertation Maths: exercises 5,9,12 p.132 Science: Lab report English: Act III, scene 1 Hamlet History: revision test Extra last minute?

ALYA’S BIRTHDAY PREP: coordinate surprise party + finish gift

Kitty section: costume prototype for single 2

Art project: finish dress

Picnic Alya, Nino, Adrien

“I swear there was a seventh thing I needed to do today.” She squinted, scanning her surroundings in the hopes that it would jog her memory. There was so much going on these days that things kept piling up, but today she was determined to catch up with everything. She didn’t have much of a choice, anyway; most of the items on her list had a set deadline, and it was coming at her faster than she liked. She preferred not to get hit by the truck head on.

Her eyes landed on Chat Noir’s blanket, which she’d draped over the back of her chaise after he’d left on the night of his birthday, over a week before.

“Right! Chat Noir - Ask Chat Noir to take a break, ” she mumbled, scribbling down the last point, before setting the list down next to her computer keyboard. She'd abandoned the idea of full on breaking up with him given how their relationship was dragging on; a break seemed softer to ask for first, and it could easily be followed up by a breakup.

It was going to be a long day, but with a bit of rigour, and thanks to her early start, it would all work out.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit much for one day, Marinette?” Tikki peeked over her shoulder, letting out a small yawn.

“Well, maybe for a normal girl, but not for Ladybug.” She yawned reflexively, and her kwami shot her a pointed look. “I know, I know. I have to power through, though - it’s not my fault I got sidetracked so much these past few days. I honestly wonder what Hawkmoth does as a living, the man has too much time on his hands.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to get a tiny bit more sleep? To help with your productivity?” Her Kwami asked, looking slightly worriedly at the bags beneath her eyes.

“It’s 6am, Tikki, not the crack of dawn. I’ll have to be up by the time I fall back asleep again.” She waved her concern away. “I’ll just let the stress adrenaline work its magic. It’s going to be fine, don’t worry.” Tikki pouted doubtfully. “Now, would you mind reading me the Hamlet scene while I finish sewing up my project?”

---

This is a disaster , Marinette thought as the formulae she read on the page danced in front of her eyes. It didn’t matter how many times she went through them, they just didn’t compute.

She looked at the time: 6:45pm. She had fifteen minutes before her picnic, and she had to finish her maths homework, her dissertation, her History revision, the Kitty section prototype, and send out individual messages to remind everybody of their tasks for Alya’s birthday so it wasn’t too short notice for the weekend.

She tried to ignore the palpitations of her heart; maybe she’d overdone it on the coffee during the day. It wasn’t like she had a choice, anyway.

She’d discovered as she'd walked into class that she had a class president meeting with Mr. Damocles over her lunch break, which had been when she’d planned to squeeze in some of her work.

Then, while she’d been packing her bag at the end of her classes, ready to leave, an Akuma had emerged. It had been a tricky one, too; Chat and her had spent about an hour chasing it around Paris before finally catching it.

Adding to that the fact that her 6am rising had left her exhausted by the second period of the day, she really hadn’t been the most efficient anyway.

“I think you know what you need to do, Marinette,” Tikki said apologetically, as if reading her mind, floating up to her with her phone in her flippers. Alya’s number was already dialled on the screen.

Marinette sighed and took the phone from her, pressing the green button before lodging it between her shoulder and her ear.

“Hey girl!” Alya’s excited voice sounded on the other end of the line. “Nearly ready to go? We really picked the right night for a picnic; the weather’s super nice.”

“About that…” Marinette winced. “I’m so sorry, I won’t be able to make it.”

“You’re kidding, right? You ’re passing up on an opportunity to have a picnic with Adrien? Are you ill?” Alya said after a small beat.

“Trust me, I surprised myself.” Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose. “I just feel like I have a bit too much on my plate right now, and I wouldn’t be great company if I came. I hope we can find another time to go out again, but I think studying and going to bed early is what’s best.”

“It’s true that you’ve seemed kind of out of it lately,” Alya said compassionately. “Don’t worry about us, take care of yourself! I promise I’ll take loads of pictures, it’ll be like you were here. And I’ll bully Mr Agreste with you after our exams to get Adrien out again if needed.”

“Thanks for understanding Alya.” Marinette smiled.

“That’s what best friends are for!” She could almost see her wink. “Now, get back to work and then go to bed! We’ll see you tomorrow.”

There was a bit of chatter on the line before Alya hung up, as she met up with Adrien and Nino.

“Wait, Marinette isn’t coming?” Adrien’s almost disappointed voice was the last thing Marinette heard before the communication ceased.

She found herself quite immune to it. She decided not to dwell on it.

---

Adrien enjoyed the picnic very much, as he did any opportunity to hang out with his friends, but his eyes kept drifting to the empty space next to him, where Marinette would undoubtedly have been sitting, were she with them. He hoped she was alright; Alya had told him that the reason why she wasn’t coming was because she was studying, which was fair considering the amount of homework they’d been given in the past few weeks, but he did feel like she was overworking herself a bit.

He didn’t doubt her ability to take on all of her projects, but he wished she’d slow down a little, for the sake of her health. What would he do if his everyday Ladybug burned out?

He wondered what Alya’s curious gaze meant when he voiced his thoughts about the situation. He panicked a little when she said that maybe a boyfriend could help get her mind off of work - firstly, because Marinette technically had a boyfriend, which he was surprised Alya of all people didn’t know. He thought the two girls told each other everything. Was Marinette keeping their relationship a secret on purpose? Was she confused about their status, which, he had to admit, he wasn't sure was himself? Was she (the thought scared him) ashamed of him?

Secondly, he found his heart squeeze peculiarly at the thought of Marinette having a boyfriend other than him . He decided not to dwell on it.

He couldn’t help but take the long way home, passing at the bottom of her building, after the picnic, though. And, seeing that there was still light in her room at past 11pm, he decided that he should probably do something; for her well being, not as an excuse to see her, of course.

He transformed in a back alley, then extended his baton so he could peek through the window closest to her desk. Maybe she was already asleep, but had forgotten to turn her lights off.

The sight of her bent over a sheet of paper, hands buried in her hair as if ready to tear it out of her scalp made him knock.

Marinette jumped at the unexpected sound, and looked up, looking quite haggard. Her features softened when her eyes met his.

There was a hint of a smile on her lips as she opened the window. “Hey Chat, what are you doing here?” She yawned.

“Bedtime patrol, just making sure that citizens are going to bed at a reasonable time,” he smiled, stifling his own yawn.

“That’s nice of you. But, does that mean that I’m in trouble?” she drawled out, leaning forward to boop him on the nose. Her exhaustion was clouding her better judgement.

“Depends, are you nearly done with your studying?”

“When will I ever be nearly done,” she snorted, turning around to take a look at her checklist.

Her feet caught in the straps of her backpack and she wobbled forward, but Chat pounced inside in time to catch her before she could tumble down.

“Woah there, little lady… Your spatial awareness is worse than ever,” he said fondly as she clutched his arms. “Sorry, but I’m not letting you get back to work.”

“But I need to finish something…” Marinette protested.

“What you really need is to take a break.”

Marinette paused to think about it. Taking a break with Chat Noir… she seemed to recall that was on the list.

“Okay.” She shrugged.

“Good. Come here, then.” Chat Noir sighed in relief at her lack of resistance and started to lead her towards her bed, but before he’d let out his whole breath, Marinette was already trying to make her way back to her desk.

“Wait, I actually still have so much to do…” She reached for her flashcards, which tumbled at their feet.

“Okay, tell you what.” He kept hold of one of her hands as he picked the flashcards up to avoid her escaping. “Why don’t you take a small nap, and I’ll stay here and keep an eye on the time. I’ll wake you up in an hour, and when I leave I’ll turn a blind eye on your choice between going to bed and getting back to work.” She looked at her doubtfully, and glanced at the cards in his hands. He took a closer look at them; their content was that of the test they had the next day. “I can read you these while you fall asleep so it’s not too much of a waste of time, if you want.” He waved them in front of her face, hoping she’d say yes. He really needed the revision, too.

Marinette nodded and he led her to her chaise, helping her lie down on it. He started draping his blanket over her and was about to go and sit in her desk chair when she grabbed his free hand and pulled on it, a lot more strongly than he would have expected from her, especially in her exhausted state.

“Take a break with me.” She shifted to her left and patted the newly formed space. “Please?”

Her pleading bluebell eyes were difficult to deny.

“Okay,” he said as he sat next to her. Marinette snuggled up against him and sighed contently.

Chat’s heart skipped a beat. He wrapped a tentative arm around her and cleared his throat before starting to read. “The Hundred Years’ war actually lasted one hundred and sixteen years, from 1337 to 1453…”

His own tiredness hit him like a truck after a couple of pages, when he heard her soothing, gentle snoring. He lowered the flashcards to watch her sleep. She looked so tranquil, a peaceful smile drawn on her lips as her body slowly followed her breathing.

He felt his eyes close, and soon the both of them were breathing in sync, holding on to each other.

Needless to say, Chat left a little later than anticipated the next morning, woken up by the rising sun. Neither of them complained, though; both had had one of the most restful nights in a while, and both aced their History test.

Each wondered if they weren’t onto something in terms of revision technique.

Adrien almost gloated to Alya about how maybe Marinette didn’t have a boyfriend who took her mind off of work, but she had one who took care of her while she studied. Almost.

[prouvaireafterdark]

See Something You Like? - Malex Sex Shop AU Part 1/2

It’s FINALLY here: the Malex Sex Shop AU you’ve all been waiting for! Well, the first half anyway (Part Two will be out soon!)

I dedicate this fic to my friendly neighborhood Thigh Riding Anon™️, who inspired this fic with her galaxy brain prompt, and all of you who have been patiently waiting for me to finish this absolute monster of a smut fic. I hope you enjoy it! 💜😘

Also on AO3!

***

When Michael moved to California to start his PhD in agricultural engineering, he’d grossly underestimated how expensive the move would be. The stipend that came with his teaching assistantship just barely covers the rent on his studio apartment, and finding a roommate off Craigslist that’s desperate enough to live in such close quarters isn’t exactly an option considering how many alien skeletons Michael’s got in his closet. The vegetables he’s planning on growing in his complex’s shared community garden will help, but if he wants to eat any time soon he’s gonna have to find a part time job.

Enter Jackie and Kris, the delightful middle-aged lesbian couple who live next door and share Michael’s enthusiasm for sustainable gardening and the occasional midnight smoke.

They get to talking one night while passing a bong back and forth over the railing that divides their balconies, first about DIY organic fertilizer and then about Michael’s degree. He lets spill in a moment of weakness that his coursework is a breeze, but he’s worried he’ll run out of money before he can finish the program. As embarrassed as he is about the confession, it ends up saving his life.

Turns out, Jackie and Kris own a sex shop named Pandora’s Box around the corner and have been looking for some help running the storefront while they focus on expanding their online business and organizing safe sex workshops for the local queer and BDSM communities. The hours would be flexible around Michael’s schedule and all they really would need him to do is stand behind the register, ring people up, and answer questions about their products with “affability and professionalism.”

It’s maybe not the work he imagined himself doing when he moved to California for grad school, but for $15/hr, Michael really can’t afford to say no. He sits for an official interview the very next day and leaves Jackie’s home office with a new job and a pot brownie wrapped in tin foil, eager to get started on both.

Monday afternoons at Pandora's Box are the best. They’re notoriously slow so Michael gets to work his shift alone, which gives him ample time to grade the assignments he procrastinated on all weekend while he sits behind the counter.

It’s a Monday afternoon, in fact, about a year and a half later, when Michael hears the bell above the door chime softly to announce the arrival of a customer who would change his life forever.

The first thing Michael notices when he lifts his head from the stack of exams on the counter is the black leather jacket that’s stretched across the man’s broad shoulders. When Michael’s eyes flick up to get a look at the man’s face, he’s met with sharp cheekbones, beautifully tan skin, and a pair of trendy but understated sunglasses. He looks a little lost—unsurprising, since Michael’s certain he would have remembered it if he’d ever seen a man that pretty walk into his shop before—but when he realizes Michael’s looking at him, he flips his sunglasses up onto his artfully messy dark hair and smiles.

And oh, what a smile it is—the most beautiful one Michael has ever seen, soft and sweeter that it has any right to be, his full lips capturing Michael’s attention with ease. His heart pounds in his chest as their eyes lock together, and if Michael didn’t know any better, he’d think he’s just fallen in love with a perfect stranger.

Before Michael can do more than shoot him a dazed smile in return, the man disappears down an aisle.

As a general rule, Michael doesn’t talk to customers who don’t approach him for help first. It’s best practice in a store that sells pornography and sex toys—most customers don’t want to be questioned about their kinks, and those that do usually already know what they’re looking for—but the pull he feels toward this man is undeniable. He’s curious about him for reasons he can’t explain, and as his feet carry him off in the direction the man went, Michael decides not to question it.

Michael weaves casually through the aisles until he finds the man staring up at the floor to ceiling wall display of dildos and other anal toys—because of course he does. He sends a prayer to a god he doesn’t believe in that this man isn’t buying something for his girlfriend before he steps in line beside him.

“See something you like?” Michael asks, toning down his customer service voice into something approaching normal human speech.

Up close, he can see the man has a septum piercing, which glints a little in the light. Michael’s seen plenty of people with body jewelry come through this store, but he’s never really thought of it as cute until now.

The man smiles at him, a little shy, but Michael’s not so distracted this time that he misses the way his eyes flick over his body in naked interest, and it leaves him feeling a little hot under the collar.

“I’m not sure yet,” the stranger answers.

Even his voice is nice, Michael notes, deeper than he expects and smooth like honey.

Michael nods in understanding. He gets it—this wall can certainly be intimidating, even for someone who’s been to a sex shop before. He looks the man over again, taking in his charmingly flushed cheeks, and wonders if it’s his first time in a place like this. If maybe he needs a little help after all.

It’s a good thing Michael’s an expert, huh?

He doesn’t want to come at him too strongly, though. Encountering an overbearing sales associate isn’t any more fun than being one, and Michael certainly isn’t looking to push the guy passed his personal boundaries. He may be smitten, but he’s not an asshole.

“Well, if you have any questions about any of our products, my name’s Michael,” he says, flashing him a warm smile.

He’s about to go off in search of a nearby display to straighten up so he can give the man some space, but his voice catches Michael’s attention once more.

“And if I don’t have questions?” the man asks, and when Michael turns to look at him there’s a real smile tugging at his lips this time. “What should I call you then?”

Michael laughs, shaking his head as he shoots back, “Okay, smartass, what should I call you?”

For a single, horrible second after his own words reach his ears, Michael thinks he’s gone too far, but the sudden burst of anxiety in his chest turns out to be for nothing—the man’s grin only grows wider.

“Alex,” he says, and to Michael’s surprise he holds his hand out for him.

Alex’s palm is warm against his when he shakes it, and Michael can’t help but wonder how it would feel anchored in his curls or clutching tight to the skin of his hips.

“So, Alex,” Michael starts, emboldened by the introduction. He finds he likes the way Alex’s name feels in his mouth. “What are you in the market for today?”

Alex flushes a little and it’s so endearing Michael has to bite the inside of his bottom lip to keep from smiling.

“That’s the thing—I don’t really know,” Alex answers honestly. “There’s just so many options.”

“Okay, well, let’s start with an easier question: are you shopping for yourself or a significant other?” he asks, and, yeah, maybe he’s planning on filing the answer to his question away for later. Sue him.

Alex looks at him like maybe he suspects ulterior motives, but Michael shamelessly holds his gaze.

“No boyfriend,” Alex says, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “I’m looking for something for myself.”

“Fantastic,” Michael smiles, before he slips a little deeper into salesman mode. “So, judging by the aisle we’re standing in, I’m gonna take a leap and say that you’re looking for a toy you can use for internal anal stimulation. Is that right?”

“Yeah. Think you can help me out with that?” Alex asks, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Definitely,” Michael answers with a smirk before he turns to the wall display. “As you can see, we have a pretty wide selection; you name it, we’ve probably either got it in stock or can have it shipped in three to five business days. Is there a particular price point you’re aiming for?”

Alex seems to think about it. “I’m not really looking to spend more than $100, but I could go up to $150 if it’ll change my life.”

“I can work with that,” Michael assures him. “Any other parameters I should keep in mind?”

“I’ve read that jelly toys can be dangerous, so definitely not anything made out of that,” Alex says, and Michael’s glad to hear he’s done his research. Jelly toys are frustratingly popular because they’re so cheap and Michael usually has to put in a little work to talk people out of buying them.

“Oh yeah, fuck that jelly shit,” Michael agrees, and Alex’s startled laugh makes his heart skip. “They’re impossible to sanitize properly and they’re full of toxic chemicals—you wouldn’t believe the horror stories I’ve heard about them since I started working here. If you’re looking for something with a softer texture, medical grade silicone is really the only way to go. Just make sure you stick to water-based lube or else you could ruin your toy.”

Alex nods thoughtfully, like he’s read that too.

“Glass and metal are also good options,” Michael continues. “They obviously feel a lot harder inside you, but they’re easy to clean, you don’t have to be as careful about what lube you use, and they’re naturally waterproof. They’re excellent for temperature play, too, if you’re into that.”

“Never tried it,” Alex confesses.

“It’s not for everyone, but it can be a fun time,” Michael says, recalling the scorching summer afternoon he spent fooling around with an ice cube tray and a girl he met on Tinder. “So, your options are metal, glass, and silicone. Any preference?”

Michael notices Alex’s eye catching on a set of stainless steel plugs, but he answers, “Silicone for now, I think.”

“Good choice,” Michael replies easily. “So, now that we know what material you’re looking for, let’s talk about your ideal experience. What are you looking to get out of your purchase?”

“An orgasm?” Alex answers, his confusion evident.

Michael laughs. “Sorry, I meant—how would you like to get there? What sort of sensation are you looking for?”

Alex looks a little lost at the question, so Michael turns to plan B.

“See, this one, for example,” Michael says, pointing to a familiar black prostate massager, “is great for when you wanna get off fast and hard. It’s not too thick, so you don’t have to spend a ton of time opening yourself up for it, and the curve puts the tip of it right up on your p-spot. It’s also got a bunch of different vibration settings and get this: It’s waterproof.”

Alex hums in interested acknowledgement, though Michael notes that the longer he talks, the more Alex’s attention is fixed on him, not the toy.

Feeling bold, Michael adds, “I’d advise caution if you’ve got thin walls though.”

“Why, does it make a lot of noise?” Alex asks curiously.

A slow grin spreads across Michael’s lips. “No,” he says with a shake of his head. “But you will.”

Michael watches Alex try and fail to suppress a smile, his full bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“You seem pretty sure of that,” Alex says when he releases it. “That from firsthand experience, or are you just a really good salesman?”

Michael laughs, equal parts delighted by Alex’s flirting and embarrassed by the memory his question brings to mind.

“What?” Alex asks, a smile building on his face.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you,” Michael hesitates, his face heating up just thinking about it. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Aw, come on,” Alex goads him. “Don’t be such a tease.”

Michael gasps in mock offense. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but a tease isn’t one of them.”

“That mean you’re gonna tell me what’s got you blushing like that after all?” Alex asks.

“I’m not blushing,” Michael protests, even though he definitely is.

Alex raises an eyebrow at him. It’s stupidly attractive.

With a huff, Michael considers his options. He doesn’t usually give personal anecdotes like this to customers, but there’s just something about Alex that makes Michael want to give him whatever he wants.

“Fuck it, why not?” Michael says to himself.

Alex smiles victoriously and settles in to listen.

“So, about a year ago, I came in to work and found this box sitting on the table in the break room, which was filled with a bunch of different toys from the company that makes that massager. I asked my boss about it and she said the company sent her a bunch of free samples.”

“Does that happen often?” Alex interrupts to ask. “Companies just send you free stuff?”

“Eh, sometimes, if it’s from a new line of toys that a company wants retailers to hype up,” Michael explains. “It helps that my boss Jackie’s wife Kris has a pretty popular blog where she tests and rates toys, so she gets free stuff all the time.”

“Huh,” Alex says. “So I’m guessing you took one after your shift?”

“Oh yeah,” Michael nods. “Tried it out as soon as I got home.”

“How was it?”

“Intense is about the only word that covers it,” Michael answers. “Those vibrations can be really powerful, it was like nothing else I’d ever tried before. Definitely one of my top ten solo orgasms of all time.”

“Not number one?” Alex asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, I came in, like, a minute, so no, not quite,” Michael laughs.

“Is that the embarrassing part?” Alex asks. “That you came so fast?”

“Not quite,” Michael winces, his cheeks flushing. “As I was coming, I screamed so loud that the little old lady whose living room is on the other side of my bedroom called the cops on me. Apparently, she thought I was being murdered.”

“Oh no,” Alex laughs, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Michael agrees. “Not exactly the happy ending I was after.”

Alex laughs again, but there’s heat behind his eyes too when he asks, a moment later, “Not usually a screamer, I take it?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Michael winks.

“Mm,” Alex hums thoughtfully. He looks Michael right in the eye as he asks, “Well, what if I don’t want to get off that fast? What if I want to make it last?”

Michael tries not to smile as he gets back to business.

“Well, I should mention that this massager does also have softer levels of vibration intensity, which I only discovered after Officer ACAB knocked on my door,” Michael says.

Alex laughs before asking incredulously, “You didn’t read the instructions?”

“Uh, no,” Michael admits. “I’m more of a ‘take things apart and see how they work’ kinda guy, I’ve never been big on reading the directions.”

“Even after your little misadventure?” Alex asks.

“Hey, don’t knock my process. I got a fantastic orgasm out of that ‘misadventure,’” Michael reminds him.

“How could I forget?” Alex asks, shooting Michael a look that really tests his self-restraint.

Michael huffs a laugh and reaches up to scratch the back of his own neck so he doesn’t do something stupid, like push Alex against the fucking dildo display and kiss that look off his face.

“So, anyway,” Michael starts, shifting the topic back toward the task at hand, “you can either learn from my mistakes or you can try something that doesn’t have vibrations at all. We’ve got a great selection of dildos in all shapes and sizes.”

“Do any of them come with a story?” Alex asks cheekily.

Michael snickers in spite of himself. “Maybe,” he says noncommittally. “Let’s see what we’ve got in stock.”

Michael hums as he looks over the display, searching for another recommendation he can make, when his eye catches on a purple dildo with ribbing along the shaft.

“This one’s a good starter dildo,” he says, pointing it out. “It’s a pretty modest size, but the ribbing feels really nice and there’s a suction cup on the bottom if you wanna stick it somewhere and fuck yourself onto it. There’s also a few by the same company that have a hole that you can slide a bullet vibrator into if you wanna get something that can do both.”

“Have you tried them all?” Alex asks.

Michael laughs, looking up at the expansive display of dildos. “Not all of them,” he says, glancing over to Alex as he continues, “but the employee discount here is very generous and, as you already know, sometimes we get free shit. I’ve built up a bit of a collection since I started working here.”

“I see,” Alex replies, the corner of his mouth turning up before he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. Michael tracks the movement hungrily when Alex releases it a moment later to ask, “Which one’s your favorite?”

“Depends,” Michael shrugs, aiming for nonchalance even though he can feel himself chubbing up in his jeans.

“On?”

“On how full I wanna feel,” Michael answers, and there’s no mistaking the heat that blazes in Alex’s eyes at those words, nor the sudden intake of breath that fills his chest.

If Alex wants him half as much as it looks like he does, Michael doesn’t even care if he gets fired for where this conversation is headed, so long as it ends with Alex’s hands on him.

“See, sometimes all I’m looking for is enough internal stimulation to get the job done,” Michael elaborates, his eyes watching Alex closely. “When I feel like that, I’ll use that prostate massager I showed you earlier on myself.”

Alex’s eyes flick over to the sleek black toy still sitting on the shelf that they’d just discussed.

“And the other times?” Alex asks when he tears his eyes away.

“Other times… other times I really wanna feel it,” Michael purrs, taking a step closer. Alex’s eyes drop right to his mouth, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip, and Michael can’t stop himself from asking, “You ever get like that, Alex? Like you just need something thick and heavy filling you up, so deep you’ll be feeling it for days?”

“Yeah,” Alex rasps.

“You wanna know what I fuck myself with then?” he asks.

Alex nods, eyes still on Michael’s mouth.

Michael gives him a sly grin before he backs up a few steps to find the sample of the eight inch galaxy dildo he treated himself to a few months ago. Alex follows him, as if they’re connected by an invisible string.

“This one,” he says, removing it from the shelf and offering it up for Alex’s inspection.

Alex takes it from him, his eyes passing over it with interest as he tests the give of the silicone with his fingers. Michael wonders if he’s imagining what it would look like inside him. He hopes he is.

“It might not look like much compared to some of the fucking horse cocks we sell here, but it’s thick,” Michael says, his cock hardening further the more he thinks about it, the longer Alex stands there holding it. “Takes me some time to work up to it, but it’s always worth it when I do.”

“Yeah?” Alex asks, eyes fixed where he’s shifting his hold on the dildo to measure it’s thickness with his fingers.

“Yeah,” Michael breathes, watching how Alex wraps his thumb and forefinger in a tight circle around the toy. They only just touch around its girth.

Alex hums to himself, sounding pleased, and Michael’s gut churns with the need to hear that sound again.

“I bet this stretches you out nice, huh,” Alex wonders a moment later, and with the way he stares at Michael then, like he’s trying to picture how he would look stuffed full, his rim taught over the silicone, he just knows Alex isn’t speaking generically.

“Yeah, it does,” Michael agrees quietly, trying not to squirm under the intensity of Alex’s gaze.

“How do you use it?” Alex asks him, stoking the flames inside him further.

“If you play your cards right, you just might find out,” Michael shoots back.

“You’d let me watch?” Alex asks, a smile teasing at his lips, and it’s all Michael can do not to get lost in the idea of riding that toy while Alex watches with his hand around his cock.

“Think I’d let you do more than that,” Michael admits.

Alex full-on grins at that, but before he can open his mouth to reply someone clears their throat behind them.

Michael’s heart seizes in his chest as he whips around to see Jenna Cameron, a regular customer and occasional drinking buddy of his, standing with her thumbs tucked into her police-issue gun belt. Michael can feel his erection flag at the sight of her.

“What’s a girl gotta do to get some service around here, Guerin?” Cameron asks, somehow managing to look annoyed and amused simultaneously. He notices there’s a discreet black plastic bag dangling from her fingers. “I’ve got places to be.”

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t hear anyone else come in,” Michael apologizes, trying and failing to keep a blush off his face.

“I can see that,” she answers with a pointed glance at Alex.

Michael takes an instinctive step away from him and clears his throat.

“I’ve gotta—“ he says to Alex, jerking his thumb behind him.

“Yeah,” Alex nods, eyes on his shoelaces. It makes the pleasure that had been coiling in his belly sour further.

“I’ll be right back,” Michael tells him, soft enough that Cameron won’t overhear.

The smile Alex gives him in return is encouraging enough that Michael’s fairly certain he won’t disappear if he leaves, so he follows Cameron back toward the register, all the while pointedly ignoring the smirk he can feel her directing at the side of his face.

He walks around the other side of the cash wrap and crosses his arms over his chest before he asks her, without an ounce of enthusiasm, “What do you want?”

“Damn, you’re really earning that employee of the month trophy aren’t you, Guerin?” she jokes, tossing the bag on the table. “I bought a harness this weekend, but it was broken when I took it out of the box. Receipt’s in the bag.”

Michael takes the box the leather strap-on harness came in out of the bag along with the receipt.

“Do you want a refund or an exchange?”

“Refund,” she says. “I’m thinking about getting one of those strapless ones instead.”

“You should talk to Kris, she’s got opinions about those,” he says as he starts scanning the receipt.

“Oh?” Cameron asks. “Is she here?”

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “You can catch her at the bondage workshop she’s running later though.”

“Perfect,” she replies before leaning forward onto the counter on her elbows. “So are you gonna tell me who the hottie with the nose ring you were talking to is?”

“Why, so you can find out if he’s got any priors?” Michael jokes, not taking his eyes off his task.

“Very funny,” Cameron deadpans. “You fuck him yet?”

“None of your business,” Michael answers.

“So that’s a no, then,” she smirks, and Michael lets out a long-suffering sigh in response.

“Don’t you have places to be? Donuts to eat?” he asks, pushing her return receipt hastily in her direction.

Before Cameron can answer, the front door swings open and in walks a short middle-aged woman with a dark brown pixie cut carrying an iced coffee and a stack of papers.

Michael startles at the sight of her, realizing it must be later in his shift than he’d thought—exactly how long had he stood there talking to Alex?—but he’s never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Kris!” Michael calls to her. “Perfect timing, Cam’s got some strap-on questions for you.”

“Well, I’ve got some strap-on answers,” Kris answers cheerfully as she walks around them to drop the stack of papers—freshly-printed but yet-to-be-folded safe sex pamphlets, Michael notices—onto the counter next to the second register. “Step into my office, baby girl.”

Cameron shoots Michael a look before she steps to the side to talk to Kris, who’s leaning patiently against the side of the cash wrap.

With Cameron finally out of his hair but Kris close enough to notice him leave, Michael starts planning his escape so he can find Alex again, but it turns out he doesn’t need one. When he looks up after putting Cam’s broken harness in the bin under the counter, he sees the man in question approaching his register with a familiar black box in his hands.

“I was gonna wait for you,” Alex explains as he sets the box on the counter, “but I’m actually supposed to be meeting my brother soon.”

“Shame,” Michael says, wishing they had more time. “I was looking forward to finishing that conversation.”

Alex glances covertly at Kris and Cameron before he leans a hair closer and says, “Don’t know that it was the conversation you were hoping to finish.”

Michael blushes, casting a look at Kris and Cameron to make sure they’re too engrossed in their conversation to notice when he leans in a little further and says, low so only Alex will hear, “What can I say? I’m very committed to customer satisfaction.”

Alex laughs, a bright and happy sound that makes Michael’s heart feel strangely full, before he asks, “You charm all your customers like this?”

“No,” Michael says honestly. “Not even a little bit.”

Alex looks at him for a long minute, trying to spot the lie, and when he finds none he merely shakes his head with an incredulous smile.

“Lucky me,” he says.

Michael winks at him before he turns his attention to the box on the counter, shifting it in his hands until he finds the barcode. He usually never comments on his customers’ purchases, but with this one he simply can’t resist.

“Went with the prostate massager, huh?” Michael asks, as he rings him up.

“What can I say?” Alex answers, a smile creeping onto his face. “You made me curious.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll be disappointed,” Michael says.

“No,” Alex replies, and the way he looks at him then makes Michael wonder if they’re still talking about the massager. “I don’t think I will.”

Michael smiles at him before he tells him his total. Alex inserts the end of his card in the reader and his receipt prints a brief moment later.

“Can you sign here?” Michael asks, passing Alex the merchant’s copy of his receipt and the green pen he’d been grading with earlier.

“Mhm,” Alex hums, plucking the pen from his fingers and signing his name in a delicate script.

Michael ducks under the counter to find a bag adequately sized for Alex’s purchase before he places the box inside it along with Alex’s copy of the receipt.

“You’re all set,” Michael says, pushing the box in Alex’s direction.

“Thanks,” Alex smiles, holding the merchant copy of the receipt out for Michael to take. “And this is for you.”

Their fingers brush as Michael takes it from him and Michael swears he can feel the tension crackling between them at the simple touch.

“Thanks,” Michael says, mouth a little dry.

Alex glances back to Kris and Cam before he says, “Have a nice day, Michael.”

“You too,” Michael says, his eyes straying pointedly to the black bag in Alex’s hand.

“Oh, I will,” Alex says, one corner of his lips lifting up into a smile before he turns and heads for the door.

Michael can’t help but watch his ass and those broad shoulders as he leaves.

Once Alex is gone, Michael unfolds the receipt Alex left for him. He’s about to slide it into the folder they keep by the register for receipts when he notices the phone number printed neatly beside Alex’s signature. Below, Alex has also written the words: Hit me up if you want to hear my review.

“You strike out?”

Michael startles, looking up to see Cameron leaning on the counter, a lot closer than she was a moment ago. He sees Kris at the far end, folding her papers into pamphlets for her workshop later.

“Not quite,” Michael grins and pockets the receipt.