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kkysolo · 4 years ago

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*grovels again* *hopes you have your gin*

i can’t believe i’m posting this highly specific piece that will certainly flop due to its clear self indulgence. please don’t send me to tumblr jail, i already know i need therapy for this lmao. your grovelling paid off, petal. i hope it’s something you marginally enjoy.

[edit: this is now a series. part two / part three / part four ]

A/N: this...is a friends to lovers smut piece laced heavily with daddy-kink that is not at all related to my own upbringing and exposes my clear daddy issues. as always, our reader has no defining traits, other than that she is female.

Pairing: Modern Ben Solo/Reader Word count: 1392 Warnings: daddy kink, age gap (three/fourish-ish years?) PIV sex, unprotected sex. Heavy mentions of childhood and referring to reader as ‘little girl’ (I know that’s a squick for some of you). Mentions of feelings that have travelled from childhood to adulthood (not sure if that’s a squick but there you have it). tagged as tw: and cw: daddy kink for anyone’s filtering desires, but it’s below a cut, anyway.

“H-how l-long?”

Your words trailed off into a moan as Ben curled his fingers, dragging the calloused pads of them along your sensitive walls. He shifted slightly, moving to circle your clit with his thumb, rubbing tight circles into the bundle of nerves. A tight coil began to wind and wind and wind in your core, and you chased it with abandon, hips bucking into his hands in a deplorable show of desperation.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, but first, I want to watch you come for me, right here, on your best friend’s fingers.”

Your eyes fell shut as your head tipped back against the pillows, and Ben reached with his free hand to steer your face toward his.

“Open your eyes,” he murmured. “I want you to see who’s doing this to you. I want to watch every last second of you coming apart.”

You did as you were told, your eyes flying open, your clouded, hooded gaze meeting his.

“Good,” he murmured, increasing his pressure on your clit. “That’s my girl.”

And it was his praise that did it - because it always did, always left you feeling like a wanton mess, even as he’d say it in passing, clueless to its effect. The coil snapped and you choked on your own breath as you felt it, felt yourself gushing onto his fingers, and felt yourself begin to float, landing somewhere between euphoria and heaven itself.

He watched, so absorbed in your bliss, so captivated by how you completely and utterly pulverised in his hands. He couldn’t find the words, couldn’t even begin to thank you for allowing him such a privilege, to be the one obliged with the chance to take you apart, to wreck you. His eyes never left the plains of your face, even as you began to fall back into coherence. You fought to catch your breath, bringing your attention back to him.

“How long?” You asked again, and Ben wasn’t even minutely surprised at your persistence. He withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth - because he had to, had to taste you, had to know what he’d been missing all those years. He hummed as his tongue slid across your come.

“Always,” he murmured once he’d sated his hunger. “For as long as I can remember.”

His lips found your hairline, pressing softly into the skin there.

“Me too,” you revelled in it, in the tranquility of it, the softness of it. But there was something else, the moment that sparked it, the moment that had spurred you to reach right into the depths of your desires, to dig up the feelings you’d thought you’d long since buried.

“Ben?”

“Hm?”

His lips cascaded down your jaw, your neck, teeth grazing across your collar bones.

“At dinner, I said something,” your words quickly caused Ben’s ministrations to cease, his lips stationary on the column of your throat. “And it...it made you...It’s why, it’s why I wanted to kiss you.”

Your mind settled on the moment, the recent memory - how you’d tried in vain to get away with shoving your potatoes to the side of your plate, moving them around with your fork in a feeble attempt at making them look eaten. You should have known, though, that a visit home to your mother’s house would make such a task impossible. And not because of your parents, no. No, because your ever-present childhood neighbour would make sure you ate your food.

You recall how he’d looked at you, the stern gaze, the cocked brow.

“Eat them,” he’d warned.

“Sure thing, dad,” you’d chided, half playfully.

You recall his face, his frame, how his whole body tensed, how his knee came to bang against the underside of the table without warning, sending your cutlery clattering from your plate.

Ben exhaled roughly, the palms of his hands gripping your sides anxiously.

“That word-”

“Don’t, don’t say it, I won’t be able to control myself if you do.”

“What if I don’t want you to?”

“Princess,” his tone was stern, a warning.

“I saw what it did to you, when I said it, when I called you ‘dad’.”

He inhaled sharply, quickly moving above you. He was so huge, so broad, that his body completely caged you. He hovered there for a moment, trying to steady his breathing, trying to collect himself. He grabbed your wrists, pinning them to the pillow above your head.

“I’m warning you. I won’t be able to control myself,” he let out a shaky, bated breath. “Not if I hear you call me that.”

“I don’t want you to control yourself, I want you,” you breathed, completely entranced by the idea of Ben finally fucking you, of your best friend finally being inside of you. “Daddy.”

And the silence that followed your words, the complete stillness as you watched him - it engulfed you. You watched as his composure crumbled, the cracks in his brick walls creeping up up up until the expanse of his very soul imploded right before your eyes. Ben’s head dropped as he groaned loudly, hips rutting into yours. In one swift movement, he was opening your legs, hiking them up around his waist. He looked at you then, and you knew how far gone he was. His eyes were so blown black you could no longer see the molten honey of his irises. And they were wild, too, just like his breathing, which was just a hair away from hyperventilation. His gaze persists and you knew, then, that this was his hopeless attempt at a question, at asking permission. You nodded, perhaps too eagerly, but God, you’d never wanted anything so much. He slid in to you, stretching you further than you thought possible, his forehead dropping to yours as a guttural moan ripped from his chest. You keened for him, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood as he sheathed himself fully inside of you. He trembled as he held his position, allowing you to become accustomed to his girth. The heat of you, the feeling of being so thoroughly connected to you, had him so on edge he could barely contain himself. You nodded at him, then, allowing him to move at last. He let out the breath he’d been holding, pulling out and then pushing back into you as you gasped, writhed, and moaned beneath him. The sight alone had him almost growling, a feral creature replacing his typically calm facade. He’d been picturing this moment, this very second, every day for so many years now, he’d lost count. Somehow, it managed to exceed every last one of his expectations. The feel of you, the sight of you - it was completely and utterly indescribable.

“Aren’t I?” He grabbed your face, pounding into you at a force like nothing you’ve ever felt before. “Isn’t that what I’ve always been?”

His breath heaved as he spoke through gritted teeth, trying to keep any semblance of control that he still had left.

“When I taught you how to ride a bike, when I walked you home from school, when I carried you to bed when you fell asleep curled around me on the couch?” He thrust into you so hard, then, that you swore you felt him in your throat. Your breath was coming in quick and heavy pants, your eyes were welling up with the sheer pleasure, the sheer realisation of what was happening.

“Huh? Isn’t that what I was every time I held you when you cried over some other dick, isn’t that what I was every time I fucked my fist raw to the thought of you, isn’t that what I was when I fell in love with you over and over, so many fucking times, I couldn’t stand it?” He growled as his hips continued to piston in and out, so forcefully, so hard, so perfectly. You cried out, eliciting a moan from him.

“You’ve always been my little girl,” he murmured, his forehead falling forward to meet yours, still clutching your face. “It’s always been you, only ever been you,” his eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he relished in the feel of you, how you fluttered around him every time he praised you. “And now Daddy finally gets to fuck his little girl, perfect little girl.”

#i've got the fear despite the gin #i'm so sorry for this #exposing all my issues in one post #my writing #ben solo #ben solo x reader #tw: daddy kink #cw: daddy kink #anon

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

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Humans are Space Orcs, “A Little Light.”

Guys, I am releasing a new alien species! I am super excited about this, and I will explain at the end because there is an awesome story behind this. I hope you like it, it was a strange style to write in, and I ended up confusing myself on more than one occasion.

The genesis of these guys is actually super cool, or I thought so.

The world around him was white, a white blinding haze that seared his eyes and burrowed into his brain so profoundly it made his ears ring, not a quiet ringing, but a loud almost ear splitting ringing that burrowed into his head and drilled through the small bones in his middle ear. Aside from the ringing there was only silence accept for his own ragged breathing gasping that, made the space around him humid despite his visor’s inability to fog.

He stumbled over his own feet, for it had to be his feet since the ground about his was completely flat, A dessert of salt stretching for miles in all directions, pure white against the roaring power of the blue-white star, a star so bright even the sky had been bleached white. He tried to open his eyes, tried to find where he was going but was immediately blinded. He tried to scramble for the visor on his helmet but found there to be none there, snapped off.

He stumbled again, this time falling to his knees on the vast white nothingness.

He could feel the crunch through his gloves and boots, rattling up through his knees, but it was as if he stared down at his own body white against paper, in a ceaseless void filled with not but light. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried for the comm again.

“Harben- harbinger, this is…. This is Commander Vir… I, my ship…. Was malfunctioned. I Have fallen and…. I can’t eyes… help, send please….. Think I may have been…. Damaged.” More light, blinding him driving into his skull like screws being driven in with a power tool. He lifted his hands to his ears as the light grew stronger bringing the ringing to a crescendo.

He fell backwards barely feeling his body hit the ground, knowing that something had happened only for the slight vibration through his body, like the slamming of a door seen only in the ripples on a glass of water. Light bombarded him from above the ringing grew louder. His hands fell to his sides as he fell, mercifully into blackness.

***

There was a disturbance, they had sensed it some time ago, a distant disturbance in the distant sky. They did not see it, but felt it. Waves of sight, particles of distortion washing over them. They do not sense the light that beats down from above, only the infrared radiation of their distant star which sustains them. Besides that, the landscape is flat blackess warmed occasionally in spots of unfathomable color by the heat of their star. They can sense it like they sense particles of radio light given off by their brethren. Light is their survival, light is their spawn and their life. They sense everything, and with their light comes a great euphoria. They love light.

They float now, great billowing sails propelling them in silent, slow-motion arcs over the landscape. Below them their great flexible appendages wave and quiver, two long in the front, and a hundred shorter trailing in the back. They float, though it seems as if they swim, cutting through the light the way a sting-ray cuts through the water. They are silent, ethereal, and somewhat strange. They do not move quickly for they see no need simply floating through the white, surrounded by light and the rolling waves of radio chatter from their companions.

With the radio waves gone.

They are silent, though their world is not.

It startles them, when it appears on the horizon, a spot of light under the glorious rays of their star. It does not belong there, for, even though the ground is bright, this thing is brighter. They approach on trailing ribbons of their own limbs gracefully floating, floating, floating. They make it eventually, towards the bright spot.

It sheds light and heat, though it is covered by darkness.

The shape is not something they have seen before, it is alien and unknowable. Behind it, it leaves traces of it’s path, back in the direction of the disturbance. It does not fit on this landscape, it does not belong here. It tracks pieces of itself behind it.

It is living.

That much they know for sure.

They know it is not from here.

With their sense of light they look on. The creature loses light in great swaths, it is bright, not as bright as their star, but very bright, though it’s brightness is fading.

It is a sin to let anything that is bright die.

***

He awoke when he felt himself moving, felt the rattling in his feet as they jostled and crunched over salt scraping and covering the sound of the ringing in his ears. He was seeing double, the world around him was still so bright. It thunders down on him in great rays of pain. He tried to move, but he found that he couldn’t. His head spun and rotated, or at least it seemed that way. He tried to open his eyes, but the light hurt. It cut into his soul until he could no longer feel but for the pain. His eyes closed, but the searing light still cut through burning him replacing the whiteness with the cherry red of his own blood.

A shadow fell over him. He could sense it with the passing of pain and opened his eyes. He could not comprehend what he was seeing, a towering shadow, a monolith slowly swaying back and forth, back and forth bringing the sun into view, and then cutting it off a moment later. Ribbons, or tedrals wave about him, there are thousands of them. He can’t make them into shapes, can't determine what they are or what they mean.

Has he died?

***

What is it?

They aren’t entirely sure.

What does it want?

Probably to live, but then again it was perishing, so maybe it didn’t.

Maybe they should leave it back out in the void, in the whiteness, on the planes of salt.

That would be foolhardy though not to learn about something new. They knew everything there was to know here. Then again this thing was a thing they did not know, so it was only right that they should know. If they knew everything else.

Did they actually know everything?

It seemed so. They knew of the salt, and atmosphere. They knew of the chemical structures, and the atomic particles. They knew of the particles that acted as waves, they knew of their beloved light, and it’s tendency to behave similarly. They knew of gravity and quantum law and that they were on a sphere that simply orbited a large sphere of fire. They knew their light would be gone some day, and they knew when that day would be.

They were not worried.

They new a great many things, and this was a thing to know.

It was clear they needed to know more.

***

It Is a trick to learn about something that cannot be known, a trick to determine that which has no base of reference. The do not know this thing, this thing that lays before them warm and flickering with its pulsing light. It is a good light, warm and steeped in life. However, it is symmetrical two limbs for either side and a trunk in the middle, that is a start.

It does not float, that much is clear, behind it it left tracks in the salt, the shapes are oval in nature or somewhere between an oval and another shape, it matches the bottom of two of the appendages at the base. So it moves, somehow, on two appendages without floating. Touching it, for their tendrils are very sensitive to touch, they feel at its shell, or it has to be a shell because the shell does not give off its light. The light is from the inside, from behind a clear layer.

The shell has a structure, it is very uniform, nothing that comes from nature. They can make things like this, though they do not bother to do so, for what does that have to do with light? So this creature wears a fake shell, that seems reasonable. Looking through the clear layer, at it’s true shape, the creature is very….

Squishy?

Yes that appears to be the correct term, though they cannot be sure. Perhaps it is not squishy and they are just misleading themselves based on appearances. But if it is not a shell for their squishiness, than what is the shell for? They can see it’s temperature, the warmth of the light can tell them that, and it seems as if it would be comfortable. The surrounding are only a little cooler than its body.

So if that is not the case, then what is it.

They look closer, for that is their desire, and the light helps them to see. They must use other types of light, they must use these lights to see inside, and inside they find the shell does other things too. The shell holds gas, a gas that surrounds the creature on the inside, for the creature on the inside is smaller than the shell on the outside.

They can test this gas, and that is where they find it.

It is a very strange mixture of gases, mostly nitrogen, but some oxygen and carbon. That may be a problem, for their planet is very high in oxygen.

Another group returns, the group that continued onwards to find the disturbance. They did not get close as they sensed a great heat from the thing that had fallen from the sky.

Fire.

Fire was not good when your planet had much oxygen, and you floated with hydrogen on your insides.

It seemed as if the two things were connected.

Perhaps the thing came from the fire, or from the thing previous to the time when it was on fire?

But that was assuming time was linear.

The thing’s light is fading, that is a bad sign.

It may be required for them to remove the shell.

They need to figure out how to do it though, the creature has appendages on the top that it does not use for walking, and at the end of those appendages, it has tendrils like theirs only shorter and more rigid. It is small, so they can assume the thing uses those to do its tasks.

They are right, they find the answer, for if you twist at some parts and pull, the thing comes off.

***

He woke up to the sound of frantic beeping.

That was not a good sign, that was his atmospheric indicator determining that he had a suit breach. Despite the ringing in his ears, he knew enough to know that. He didn’t know where the light was still too bright and his body was still in pain. But then, he felt it…. Something cold against the skin of his hands.

He knew nothing should be cold since the inside of his gloves were very warm.

He tried to open his eyes, finding that, strange, there was shade, and though it was bright, he could finally see. Thinking was harder though considering the pain his was still in, the throbbing of his head the the diplopia that mirrored every image over itself.

He felt sick.

The suit continued to beep.

He heard the sound next, and knew what was coming. The soft scraping and snick just beside his neck.

Air rushed over his face, the beeping grew louder.

And then the world coalesced around him. To his sides it was bright, to bright to look, but above him it was less so, he could stare upwards now, and he wasn’t immediately dead, though his helmet was gone.

Something had taken off his helmet.

Why had it taken him this long to realize it?

He turned his head trying to find the source of his imminent death, and stops

This time, it does not take him long to register surprise.

***

They were right, and wrong, the creature was squishy, though no completely, and now it was moving responding to their touch.

It hadn’t died yet, so that was good, though it did not get up and move like it was supposed to.

They reachout touching at it, at it’s strange appendages at the end of it’s upper limbs, at the soft fibers atop it’s head, and the strange rubbery surface about the top which gave off a great amount of light.

It is silent as far as they can tell though it had many strange openings in its body that flexed and moved. It’s light is still fading. They use their light again to look and found something very strange, a symmetrical pattern of scaffolding that held up the squishy parts of the creature. This scaffold is generally open except for the one about the head which is closed. There is lots of heat there, and their light could see inwards, a building pressure.

That did ot seem normal for it is not symmetrical like it should be.

They could fix that.

They know how. Though, the creature has gone limp under their appendages, they still work. It is their duty to save all sources of light. It didn’t take them long to release the pressure, and once that is done the light grows back up pulsing more evenly. Their radio chatter is one of incandescent excitement. Merrily, they float about in circles basking in the light from outside pleased that this little glimmer of light is still here.

***

He woke up without a ringing in his ears this time, and the light from outside wasn’t so horrible on his eyes, though he still attempted to shade his vision. It was a struggle though, trying to remember where his limbs were and what they were doing. He was still having trouble comprehending his place in space and where all his appendages were.

Something caressed the side of his face.

He tilted his head down flinching back and the strange blue-tipped thendral pulled back away from him. At first he thought it was some sort of snake, and nearly panicked, but that didn’t seem right, so he followed the body of the tendral bak and upwards.

Still groggy, that didn’t stop his mouth from falling open in stunned amazement.

Stunned amazement as the alien creature floated over him.

***

The creature notices them now, they cannot tell how since it does not respond to their light, it is completely silent. They reach out with their tendrils feeling the creature, the fibers on its head, the soft outer covering. It pulls away from them at first hunkering bac against the ground, but as they continue, it seems to grow curious responding to their touch with touch of its own.

Its five protrusion appendages reach out trailing gently down their skin.

They tremble with delight.

It continues to reach towards them with it’s strange appendage, and one of their number reaches out wrapping a tendril around the appendage searching and feeling at the structure underneath. The creature is gentle and does not pull away. THey like this creature, it makes light and though they cannot fathom or understand it, there is something about the way it touches them.

It seems curious, just like them.

Just like the did before, it wraps its own protrusions around their tendrils. It is warm giving off heat with it’s light. This close, it’s heat is like the face of the sun cold spots giving it distinct character as it plays with them, though something is wrong. It’s light isn’t working again…. Had they done something wrong.”

***

He was growing very dizzy, and the muscles in his face would not stop twitching. He gently unwinded a tentacle from his wrist careful not to spook the creature that floated over him. It was curious like you would expect an octopus to be, and it did remind him of one like some weird sort of elephant squid. It was large, maybe six feet in length from the bottom of it’s two long tentacles to the top of it’s ‘head’.

On either side of its body, there were two large flaps, which it slowly used to maneuver flopping back and forth as it floated. IT floated primarily with the help of some sort of sack on the back of its body, not dissimilar to the Vrul. It had four eyes in a diamond pattern towards the top of its head, though as far as he could tell it did not hear seeing as it had not reacted to his voice.

Did he sense a sudden agitation in their numbers as they move in again beginning to prod at him with their tendrils once more.

One brushes itself down his face again, feeling at his head where, he had received somewhat of a knock during the crash. The dizziness was getting worse, as was the facial twitch.

He knew these signs, and desperately reached for the components of his suit, lying neatly beside him. The creatures pulled away floating about him in a wide circle.

He pulled a glove on and snapped it into place.

He turned to reach for the other finding one of the creatures had wrapped a tentacle around his other glove and was slowly reaching out towards him.

He took the offering gently and snapped the glove on.

He turned for his helmet, but had been beaten to it. With delicate movements slowed as if they moved through water, two of the creatures maneuvered the helmet over his head lowering it down and twisting it until it snapped in place.

Oxygen levels high, toxicity imminent, lowering oxygen output.

He took a deep breath. A tendril patted the outside of his helmet like an old granny pats the cheek of her grandchild.

He couldn't help but smile stroking his hand along the length of the tendril like he was petting a dog.

***

The light has returned, they are pleased, though they worry as another disturbance breaks the atmosphere. It is bright, bright like a second star, but it is fire, and fire is dangerous, they pull back watching as the fire descends from the sky. They do not move though, the creature does not move, but they cannot be sure it sees the disturbance at all. Things died down, and then a group of small lights appear over the wasteland.

They move without floating leaving trails of light behind them.

They pull back as the things pull closer slowly moving towards them. It is as if they are communicating with each other though there can be no possible way for them to do so seeing as they do not make noise and the light they commit is a steady pulse. They emit light like the first and slowly approach in a group.

The creature is not alone.

There are more of them, and they descend from the sky to walk on the ground.

As they observe, the first creature reaches out to them like it had done before. They are hesitant, but they follow suit wrapping tendrils around the proffered appendage. It returns their touch with touch of it’s own, and the group of its friends follow.

Another holds out an appendage like the first, and though they are cautious, they give it over, and the creature is just as gentle and curious.

They like to think that the creatures are thanking them for helping one of their own, and sadly they have to watch the creature go, wobbling back across the salt to return to the sky from where it came.

They were not likely to understand the silent creature.

But they did appreciate its curiosity.

The little light that had come to visit them, before returning to the sky.

Like a star

So I found this in my things the other day, and it is an alien design for the first space orcs book idea I had that I ended up scrapping. They were designed specifically to be as different form humans as possible, unable to stand us in any way.

I completely forgot about them, but then if you look at the bottom of the page you can see what I named them, “The Kril” and then I realized that they are the inspiration for my character Krill, who like them, can float, is plant based, and can see in infrared .

Guys these crazy dudes are the inspiration for Krill!

I thought they deserved to be resurrected.

Now I just need a good name for them, Comment if you have any ideas :)

#humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are spaceoddities #earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia

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hj-creates · 6 years ago

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Our Secret- Chapter 4

Link to previous chapters is here-

Philip and Thomas finally get the alone time they have been craving. (The read more cut only works on the desktop version for me which is cool but doesn't let me add a link. Jfc, Tumblr get your shit together.)

*****************

Philip watched as the last of the others left. He sprang out of his chair and locked the door. He turned around and saw Jefferson looking out one of the large windows, admiring the fading light of dusk.

Philip came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Thomas’s waist and let them glide slowly up the other man’s chest. His long fingers flexed over the silk-covered skin and he tilted his head up to whisper in his ear. “Finally. I thought they would never leave.”

Thomas took one of Philip’s hands in his own and brought it to his lips, placing a soft kiss to his wrist. “You must learn patience, Philip. The anticipation makes everything so much sweeter.”

“Are you kidding?” Philip snorted out. “I’ve spent the last hour in agony, watching the clock and trying to hide my arousal.”

Jefferson turned around with a smirk. “Is that so little Hamilton?” His fingers skimmed down Philip’s shirt and rested on the waistband of his breeches.

Philip took his hand and, without breaking his gaze on Thomas guided it lower. “Not so little.” He purred.

Thomas couldn’t stop the soft moan the spilled from his lips. “You locked the door?” Philip nodded. “Good.” He loosened the cravat around his neck and tossed it to the side. He started to unbutton his shirt then drew the curtains closed. Philip shirked off his waistcoat and yanked his shirt over his head. Thomas inhaled sharply at the perfection that was suddenly revealed to him. The younger man had to the audacity to chuckle at his reaction and Thomas was swiftly in front of him. He placed the tips of his fingers over Philip’s mouth. “You’ll have to be quiet, you know.”

Philip kissed the digits pressed against his mouth. “I know.” He replied, seemingly unconcerned.

“I daresay it won’t be easy. Not with you teasing me all damn day.”

Philip feigned innocence. “What do you mean? All I did today was try to learn all I could about you. From you, I mean. So much lovely governing.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Jefferson pretended not to be amused. “And how many times did you pretend to drop something and slowly pick it up?”

“Oh, I’m very clumsy.” His eyes glittered. “My apologies if it flustered you.”

“Flustered me? I damn near had to cancel my meeting with Secretary Pickering just so I could have time to… compose myself.”

Philip’s smile grew wider. “Well now we are finally alone together. You can release that pent-up libido and have your way with me.” He draped his arms around Thomas’s neck and pressed himself wantonly against the other man’s frame.

Thomas narrowed his eyes. “You are entirely too forward. One would almost be tempted to question your upbringing.”

“And you are entirely too verbose.” Philip’s thumbs stroked Thomas’s jawline. “I didn’t squirm through hours of meetings and policy discussions just to engage in verbal discourse.”

Jefferson bit down on his tongue. He feared he had underestimated his intern. Why had he been so foolish to imagine himself as the one wielding control? The lad was dangerously close to making him stutter, his thoughts all scattered in a haze of lust and this endless, aching need to taste and touch every inch presented to him.

And so he did; taking a step back, he slowly undid the rest of his buttons and let his shirt fall to the floor. He unfastened his pants and they pooled around his ankles. He dropped to his knees and relieved Philip of the rest of his garments as well. He placed a trail of kisses up the younger man’s stomach and all the way to his shoulders. He scraped his teeth gently over Philip’s throat and let his tongue caress the soft spot under his ear. Philip whimpered and Thomas was quick to cover his mouth with his hand. “Must stay quiet.” He peered into the other man’s eyes and his gaze reflected a deep, fiery longing that made Philip shudder.

His hand reached for Philip’s and he led him to his enormous office chair. As he sank into the plush cushion, Philip straddled his lap. He reached into the top drawer of his desk and grabbed the bottle of oil he had purchased special for this occasion. He coated his hand and both of their cocks with a sharp hiss as he tried to remain silent.

He took his time and made sure his lover was ready and comfortable before sinking his length deep inside. Philip opened his mouth as if to cry out and Thomas shushed him preemptively. To be honest, he was having a hard time not making any noise as well; every thrust brought a new wave of pleasure that in a more private setting would have him bellowing out profanities.

Philip rolled his hips slowly, gripping him tight, as Thomas stroked him expertly. His long fingers teased lightly and he swiped his thumb over the already slick tip then stiffened his hand and stroked faster.

He attempted to last as long as he could but after hours of torment and stolen glances he soon had to admit defeat and let his ecstasy wash over him. He pressed his forehead into Philip’s flesh, hoping his soft skin would muffle his cries of libidinous euphoria. He stayed there and tried to catch his breath.

It was Philip’s own hands that lightly came to rest on Thomas’s cheeks, lifting the older man’s face to look at him. He was smiling softly and Thomas thought he had never seen a more beautiful creature in his entire life.

Satiated in a way that he hadn’t been in years, Jefferson sat back and let his eyes flutter closed as Philip placed soft kisses on his neck and collarbone.

He tangled his fingers in his lover’s dark curls. “Oh Philip,” he breathed out. “You are a prince among gargoyles.”

Philip laughed softly, not out of derision, only affection. “Surely your post-coital bliss is exaggerating my physical attributes.”

“No, my love.” Thomas forced his head up to meet his stare. “I have been bewitched by your beauty for some time now.” Philip shook his head as if he disagreed and Thomas felt a pang in his chest. He stared at him and his voice was tender, “You doubt the veracity of this?”

Philip looked up at him from under his long, dark lashes and Thomas didn’t wait for a response. He gripped him by his waist and sat him on his desk. He trailed light kisses up his thigh and when his lips finally caressed Philip’s erection, it elicited a loud, long moan. “Shhh…” Thomas hissed at him. “If you can’t remain silent, then I’m afraid I’ll be forced to stop.” He neglected to mention he had absolutely no intention of letting Philip leave his office without tasting all of him.

His swirled his tongue around the base before closing his mouth around him, massaging him with his lips and lapping at his hardened prick. His tongue darted at the slit, savoring the arousal that had already started to leak out. He tightened his mouth around the tip, bobbing his head up and down his shaft as Philip’s hands knotted in Thomas’s hair, pulling and tugging as he struggled to not cry out his release.

His hips lifted off the desk and he grunted through gritted teeth as he succumbed to the rapturous gratification and erupted between Thomas’s expert lips. He shook and collapsed in the other man’s arms, resting his head on his shoulder.

After a few moments, Thomas spoke softly. “We should probably get dressed now.”

“I suppose.” Was Philips’s weary response.

“Before you leave, I’d like to go over some rules.” The other man didn’t say anything, so he continued, “Everything between us must be contained here in these offices. You are never to come to my home unless I have invited your entire family. You mustn’t show up unannounced or on any days other than workdays. It must always look like you are here strictly for work.”

Philip had crawled back onto Thomas’s lap and was nipping at his throat. “You mean I can’t tell everyone that you’re my boyfriend now?” He teased.

“No.” Thomas grimaced. He gently combed his long fingers through Philip’s hair. His eyebrows lifted and a wistful expression spread over his face. “Though I wish you could. I wish I could take you out to fancy dinners and out riding in the countryside. I wish I could spoil you and mostly... I wish I could share my bed with you. Spend hours teasing and pleasuring you. An entire night of just you and I.”

“That sounds nice.” Philip’s eyes were half-lidded as he gazed into the dark eyes of the other man.

Thomas impulsively kissed him again. “I know the arrangements aren’t ideal but you have to understand there are many who would love to see my downfall and-“

“You mean my father?” Philip smirked.

“Well, Alexander and I have our political disagreements, but I don’t think he is plotting my demise or hates me or anything.”

“Oh no.” Philip chuckled against Thomas’s chest. “He definitely… well, nevermind.”

Jefferson smiled and stroked his hair. “Yes, let’s not discuss him further. I wasn’t even referring to him specifically. There are always rumors swirling around about me. I never remarried after my wife died and that was… hmm, almost twenty years ago. I have to be discreet about certain carnal appetites, wouldn't want to start all the gossips' tongues wagging.”

Philip placed a warm kiss on Thomas’s throat. “I like your tongue wagging.”

The older man placed his hands on either side of Philip’s face and tilted his head up to look at him. Thomas’s eyes were half-lidded and he absentmindedly licked his lips. “You…” he drawled out, “are a very salacious young man.”

As if to prove his point, Philip ground his hips on Thomas’s lap, reigniting the desire that had momentarily subsided after their climax. Thomas moved his long fingers to Philip’s thighs and squeezed hard. “It is long after nightfall, kitten. Surely they will be missing you at dinner.”

Philip shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time I got home after everyone went to bed.”

“Yes, but it would the first time you would be late after spending all day with me.”

Philip relented grudgingly but not before placing another searing, bruising kiss on Thomas’s lips. He disentangled his limbs and slowly got dressed, knowing he was the focus of his instructor’s lustful gaze. He opened the office door and waved goodbye. “See you tomorrow, Mr. Jefferson.”

“Adieu, Philip.”

#hamilton #philip hamilton #thomas jefferson #jefferson piperson

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arcadeguk · 6 years ago

Text

coterie

coterie; an intimate and often exclusive group of persons with a unifying common interest or purpose

prompt: “sorry i’m protective over the things i love” + “anyone up for tacos?”

pairing: mainly yoongi x reader, appearances from everyone bc i can’t help myself

genre: fluff, angst, dangerous situations (?) it’s a gang au u know what’s up

a/n: outro tear has me whipped and i couldn’t decide who i wanted in this au so it’s everyone. also i love me a badass female lead character wow i can’t wait strap in bitches

cigarette smoke swirls in gentle columns around your face, tickling your nose and trailing the curves of your cheeks. the air smells of leather, men’s cologne, and dark, amber-colored whiskey - the kind that makes your chest burn and heave, but it brings you one step closer to euphoria, to heaven, to bliss. the lights are slow, and fade in between all the colors of the rainbow, throwing fluorescent spots of light onto the shadows that stand, milling around the room. the figures fail to reveal people, better yet black outlines of who they are, with no color or detail - nothing specific to offer. every once in a while, a blotch of violet will drip down the shoulder of a stockbroker from wall street, who’s currently trying to land at least three girls at once. an explosion of turquoise dapples the face of a woman who looks much older in daylight, but tonight, the darkness and her painted face shave 15 years off her life, and she could almost appear girlish to the men who are too drunk to think of their families at home, of the lives they live from 9 to 5. no - here, now, they’re as free as they’re ever going to be - and they know it. so another shot is downed, another sleazy smile thrown, accompanied by a $20 bill, and the night starts (or ends) for yet another pair.

“so, run this by me again, is this a bar or a super secret sex cult? because, at this point, i’m not entirely sure if there’s a difference” you mention, turning your head towards jung hoseok, the secondhand man on this mission, all while keeping your eyes glued on the multiple scenes going on in front of you. hoseok squints at the same tragedy you’re looking at, and sighs, slumps slightly on the bar you’re both seated at, before taking a long swig of his rum and coke. “god, this place is really like a fucking trainwreck, you wanna look away but you can’t” he murmurs into the glass, before taking another gulp, eyes squeezed shut.

setting the glass down, hoseok pulls his sleeve up slightly to reveal an expensive looking watch - one that you can’t remember if he paid for or he stole - he was awfully nimble, having gone from stealing petty change to slipping rolexes off mens’ wrist before he was 20. long, thin fingers adjust the face, giving an open-mouthed sigh once he realizes the time. hoseok glances towards the ominous looking black door at the end of the bar, the same one your precious, darling, hardened gang leader boyfriend min yoongi had disappeared behind approximately an hour and a half ago.

min yoongi was a creature of the night, a beast to be reckoned with, the fear, and yet the pride, of korea. by the tender age of 21 years old, he’d had korea under his thumb, sitting fat and happy in his 14 room penthouse apartment in seoul. lazing on his throne, yoongi could just watch the other gangs (whom he fondly referred to as the “ants under his feet”), as they fought and battled for their dearest min yoongi’s attention, love, and most of all - money. yoongi, however, needed no more allies, as he had found his family early on in life, creating an invincible bond with 6 other boys, who hailed from all over the country, convening in seoul on one unfortunate night, when a parking lot arms deal had gone bad. namjoon described it simply as “right time, right place”. you had always chuckled at this - solid, sure namjoon, who’d nearly taken a bullet that night for a boy he barely knew - a scrappy young man from daegu who was determined to either watch the world burn or lead it as it crumbled. needless to say, the boys found yoongi’s charisma, drive, and steady leadership irresistible, and that’s how they all ended up where they are now - seokjin most likely hovering over a computer, eyes flickering from surveillance screen to surveillance screen, while yelling at jeongguk and taehyung “to shut the fuck up some of us are trying to work”. namjoon is probably buried away in his office, planning the next job, making sure it’s “even better than the last”. meanwhile, jimin, hoseok, yoongi, and yourself found yourselves at this disgusting bar (sex cult? 50 shades thing? really who knew), ordering drinks and occasionally checking phones, watches, exits, lookouts, and doors.

your story, however, had a little more flavor. the gang, the mafia - it went by many names, but to you, it was home. a long childhood floating in between houses and apartments and police holding cells had left you with a very particular skill set, one that wouldn’t be any use of you to you in the “real world”. after graduating, you found yourself in the shittiest apartment known to man, in the (arguably) worst part of town, beating the absolute shit out of douchebag men on the streets who had been wanted by some group for one thing or another, all while swiping their wallets in the process (for your trouble, of course). however, one night, while desperately strapped for cash, you tried your luck at one of the hottest bars in town, managing to convince the bouncer to let you in (you still thank that red bodycon dress everyday). there, you had spotted a certain min yoongi, who had at least 7 models dripping from his elbows, smiling and smirking his way through the evening, making sure each and every person there was aware of the power he possessed. it would be so romantic to say that your eyes locked from across the room, that in that moment, wordless “i love you”’s had been exchanged, and you saw a flash forward of your lives together - a wedding, children, a gorgeous house, with a golden retriever thrown in to boot. again, romantic. but no.

you’d tried to steal his wallet, nearly salivating at the sight of his silver piercings, thick wallet, the diamond cufflinks, and the numerous rings that adorned his thin fingers, fingers that wrapped around a shot glass so deliciously. moments later, you found yourself bloodied, panting, and pressed up against the women’s bathroom wall. firm hands held you in place, one on your shoulder, the other biting into the soft flesh of your waist. the cold metal of his rings cut into your skin through your thin dress, and the urge to rip them off his stupidly beautiful hands and run away with them possessed you. your hands gripped his bicep and shoulder, as you frantically tried to ignore the way his lean muscles rolled under your fingertips, how his body adjusted under the pressure of your hands, or the devilish smirk he threw you under the dim lights - brown eyes sparkling like a kid on christmas morning. he scanned you up and down as he panted, attempting to catch his breath, tongue occasionally flicking out to taste the blood that bubbled from his lip. once his eyes had finally risen, he’d thrown you another world class smile, and spoke, hot breath fanning on your face, “i like you. a lot. looking for a job? or is beating men to a pulp in women’s restrooms a full time gig?”

you had snorted at his offer, and adjusted yourself in his hold, debating between breaking free or grabbing his face to suck it off for all it was worth. “no need to be such a dick” you sneered at him. pushing him back off you again, only for him to try and pull you closer. he rolled his eyes, casting them heavenward before letting the most sarcastic of smirks grace his face.

“sweetheart, that’s the last thing i’m trying to think about right now.” when his eyes settle on yours for just a beat too long, you’ve convinced yourself of two things: he was most definitely made of pure marble, carved by the gods themselves and whatever he was selling, you wanted to buy 10.

jimin whining from behind you pulls you from your reverie, his high pitched voice reaching your ears, and you perk up to listen. “the fuck is taking him so long?” he grumbles, checking his watch yet again and anxiously looking at the door. “it’s yoongi, he’ll be fine” hoseok mumbles, slightly amused by the younger boy’s worrying. “he shouldn’t have gone in there alone, that was his first mistake…” jimin murmurs to no one in particular. “he’ll be fine” you reassure louder, more yourself than jimin, and hoseok throws you a tight smile.

calmness falls over the three of you, a bliss that is soon interrupted by shouts, yells, and yoongi’s hoarse, deep voice croak out from somewhere in the large room, “fucKING RUN”

what happens next is blur of fists, grunts, muffled curses and the sounds of guns being yanked out of holsters. you manage to land several good punches before you even get a look at yoongi - who’s bleeding heavily from one cheek, sporting the beginnings of a world class black eye under the other. your throat constricts ever so slightly at the sight of him hurt, but your heart swells with pride when he lands a well-aimed kick square on the crotch of a man wearing a finely tailored suit. screams and shoves from the crowd block your view of yoongi, and you find yourself fighting at least two men at once, although at this point, it could be be three. you slam one man’s head into the bar, only to turn around and cleverly block another’s suckerpunch. suddenly, there’s a blur of black hair, and your most recent assailant drops to the floor.

“i had that, dickhead” you chirp to yoongi, who turns around with a grin and gently runs a thumb over your bruised and bloodied eyebrow.

“sure you did, babygirl.”

“i’m sorry, did you not see how i practically threw that dude over the bar? i think his eyes are nestled somewhere nicely at the back of his neck now.”

firm hands are placed on your back, and push you towards a door, with a half-broken and dim EXIT sign hanging from the top of it. “stop flirting and let’s get the fuck out of here, hmm?” is hissed in your ear, and you can’t help but turn around and grin at the very obviously annoyed jimin, who’d tried so hard to avoid blowing the cover this whole time, only to have it all go completely to hell. jimin maneuvers you quickly into the crowd of people yelling and filing out, and occasionally glancing behind him to make sure yoongi and hoseok weren’t far behind.

stepping out into the surprisingly bright night after the near pitch-blackness of the bar has you squinting, but it barely takes a heartbeat for you to recognize yoongi’s decked out black mercedes, looking inconspicuous in such a wealthy part of town. reaching behind you, you grasp jimin’s hand and give it a quick squeeze, a gentle reminder to walk calmly to the car, sinking as far into the shadows of the street as possible. jimin clears his throat twice behind you, indicating he understood, and his slowed gait reminds hoseok and yoongi of the same thing. the most powerful gang south korea had ever seen, who’d just come walking out of a world-class bar fight that will most definitely make the 6 am news? no clue what you’re talking about, absolutely nothing to see here.

you pull open the backseat door, freezing once you hear the tell-tale sirens of seoul’s finest, racing to the scene after a frenzied call from a terrified bar owner. you hurriedly clamber into the back seat, face breaking out into a smile when taehyung shoots you a megawatt grin through the rearview mirror.

“your uber’s heeeeere!” he chirps in a singsong voice. he watches as the rest of the boys shove their way into the car.

“could have gone better?” he smirks, and jeongguk giggles from the front seat, an ipad illuminating his face. “you could say that” you murmur, as you scootch over closer to namjoon, who’s stretching and rolling his shoulders.

hoseok huffs as he climbs into the backseat and makes a noise of surprise when he sees namjoon sitting there. “my god, he lives. i didn’t think you existed outside of that closet you call an office.”

“hoseok, i’m about to smack that dumbass orange hair off your damn head.”

“oh, i’d like to see you try, joonie darling.”

“move, asswipes” yoongi grumbles, shoving hoseok and jimin to the absolute back row, while taking his rightful spot next to you.

“as much as i’d hate to interrupt the playful banter, we’ve got a problem here, boss,” taehyung says from the driver’s seat, directing his comment to yoongi but keeping his eyes fixated on a set of officers, who are walking all-too-calmly towards the parked car. “seokjin is looking for an open route, but the police have almost the entire neighborhood blocked off.” jeongguk says breathlessly, fiddling with the bluetooth in his ear, hanging on every word seokjin yelps into the headset.

“they’ve already set up a perimeter, jesus christ” jimin breathes, and hoseok snorts from behind you and coolly runs a hand through his orange midpart, “what a great night for them to finally do some active policing.”

“taehyung,” yoongi’s cold, calm voice murmurs from next to you, and you know the tone well. it’s the tone yoongi reserves for only specific occasions, for moments when he feels like he no longer has control over the situation. for moments when everything could very easily fall apart. for moments when all other variations of himself are dead and gone, when he needs to make a concise, smart decision, when he’s in pure damage control mode. “i don’t care if you have to drive through a fucking mansion and olympic sized pool. get. us. the. hell. out. of. here.”

taehyung swallows, and his hands flex as they grip the wheel. he slowly puts the car in reverse, and makes more room in front. the police officers pick up their pace, and one of them even has the audacity to flag your car down.

“hard right once we get down the street, then just gun it until we reach that weird strip club namjoon goes to. perimeter should end there.” jeongguk orders from the front seat, reading seokjin’s words verbatim. namjoon whispers ‘it’s not weird god” and taehyung gives a stiff nod. yoongi’s hand creeps onto your lap, and clutches your knee through your dress, and you can’t help but be surprised.

hoseok had said something interesting at breakfast this morning. yoongi had stumbled out of bed, sleepy and unusually clinging with you (especially around the guys). as he’d gone to take a shower, hoseok had casually mentioned the importance of you and yoongi’s relationship. and now you saw he might be right: min yoongi really was going soft.

“go now” jeongguk orders hoarsely, and taehyung slams on the gas for all its worth. the car lurches forward, and taehyung expertly hands the wheel, straightening the luxury vehicle in a heartbeat, and it’s screaming down the open road in a second. “police barrier!” jeongguk yelps, and taehyung sets his jaw, driving right through the wooden stands and police tape. yells and hollers of men are heard outside, and policemen scatter to their cars to begin a pursuit.

“lose them now, tae” yoongi orders, gripping the back of the passenger seat while checking over his shoulder at the army of police cars approaching. red, white, and blue light up the interior of the car, and illuminate yoongi’s creased brow. one hand is planted firmly on your knee, the other hovering just above his right hip. his fingers smooth over the cold metal of the gun, and yoongi makes a split second decision. he unholsters the gun, and you can’t help but snort.

“wanna piss them off even more, babe?” you question, unholstering your gun from the garter under your dress. “if yoongi isn’t actively pissing someone off, he isn’t having a good day” jimin mumbles, blowing his bangs away from his eyes as he cocks his own firearm.

“shoot out their tires” yoongi orders, and you can’t help but stare at him dumbfounded. “doesn’t that shit only happen in the movies?” you squeak. 4 years you’ve been with the boys, and this was most definitely the craziest night yet.

“we’re about to find out” yoongi grunts.

he leans out the window, aims and fires, blowing out the front tires of the first car. the car screeches, desperately trying to slow down, and ends up side-sweeping across the lanes, stopping several cars in its wake. leaning out the window, you, jimin, and hoseok follow suit, blindly shooting at the wheels in the darkness of the night.

the loud pops of gunshots fill your ears, the microphoned voices of policemen ordering you to “pull over, now!” sends a shiver down your spine. adrenaline courses through your veins, making you deaf and numb to the gunshots fired back at the boys’ car. you duck back into the cabin of the car, and grab another magazine to load into your gun.

you glance to the side, catching yoongi’s eyes as he looks down at you. he leans down to your level, and catches your lips on his, in a fleeting kiss that doesn’t last as nearly long as you wanted it to.

“having fun, baby?” he smirks, nudging your nose with his.

“being shot at in a high speed police chase in the dead of night, after narrowly escaping a potentially brutal bar fight? i’d say i’m not having fun, i’m having the time of my life.” you grin at yoongi, and his eyes soften ever so slightly, his face relaxing into a smile.

“we’ve got some distance between us and them, what’s the next move, boss?” jimin huffs as he crouches back down into the backseat of the car. the back windshield gives one final crack, before falling apart completely as soon as taehyung hits a bump. the glass shatters, covering everyone in the two back rows of the car. “as much as i’m sure you’ve enjoyed taking my mercedes for a joy ride, taehyung, i think it’s time we really get the hell out of here.” yoongi hisses towards the front seat, but the anger is all smoke and mirrors: he knows one glorious, exuberant fact: tonight, min yoongi, famed leader of the most powerful gang in korea, won.

taehyung responds with a tight chuckle - “got it”, and presses on the gas pedal even further. “quick left on the side street, another hard right on that sketchy alley, and we should be home free,” jeongguk dictates, and yoongi hums his approval.

seokjin’s face appears on the console screen, and jeongguk leans over, long finger stabbing the green accept button.

“now what the FUCK was that?” he screeches, voice high and tinny through the car speakers.

“just a detour, hyung” yoongi hums softly, turning to you with his scrunched up eyes and full gummy smile on display. half beat to hell and juuust escaping arrest, and yoongi still looks drop-dead handsome. how he did it was beyond you.

“well, the next time you sweet precious angels decide to take the scenic route, throw up a warning, hmm? i’ve been sitting here routing and rerouting you guys. do you know how many police radios i’ve been cracking into, playing through my entire “vines that keep me from ending it all” playlist? it’s a miracle they haven’t caught up to you guys, you really need to be more careful.”

“i’ll file that away for later, thanks. can you get us home now? also namjoon, you’re gonna have to pull whatever magic-trick-harry-potter bullshit you used last time that managed to convince that mechanic guy to fix up the benz without going through the legalities.” yoongi says, the adrenaline in his body finally melting into bloodstream. heart no longer pounding, veins no longer burning, yoongi can finally focus on more than one thing at a time, on the multiple boys and things that desperately need his attention. seokjin grunts his agreement, and hangs up, leaving the car in a gentle silence, cushioned by the blowing of wind through the windowless back of the car. some shuffling, an occasional yawn is the only thing that breaks the stillness. then, muffled from somewhere in the front seat, “anyone up for tacos?”

even from the bathroom, your senses dulled by the ceiling fan and thick air, you can hear yoongi’s huffs and yawns. you shuffle into the bedroom, half getting dressed and half watching him. yoongi stands in front of the bed, sighing loudly as he yanks his jacket and tie off, rolls his sleeves to his elbows, and kicks off his shoes. yoongi collapses onto the fluffy white cloud of sheer divinity, phone in hand, lips pouted as he flicks through emails and messages and timelines. you gently climb onto the bed, wearing your most beloved pair of pj’s - one of yoongi’s old t-shirts, and a pair of your fluffiest sweatpants. you settle into yoongi’s side, and he adjusts to accommodate you. you rest your head on his chest as he tucks an arm under you, involuntarily humming when he can feel the warmth of your body begin to seep through his clothes.

he turns his head to the side, planting a long, warm kiss on your forehead. “you kicked ass tonight” he murmurs, and you hum back, eyes closing too fast for you to even think about it. it’s only when yoongi starts drawing shapes on your back - little hearts, stars, “i love you”’s - that you realize how truly tired you are, how warm and comfy he is, and how there’s nowhere else in this world you’d rather be. “so did you” you whisper back, and yoongi smiles, the crescent shape of his mouth pressed to your forehead.

“thanks for always being there. thanks for always having my back. thanks for going with me on every crazy idea i have. i wish that tonight hadn’t been so...”

“intense? insane? adrenaline-inducing?” you finish for him, and he grins. the air between you two falls silent for a second, and the velvety darkness threatens to drag you even further down.

“just always wanna make sure you’re safe”, he murmurs into your hair, hiding his blushing red cheeks in the strands. “sorry i’m so protective over the things i love, i can’t help it.”

you hum, tiredness and warmth dragging you down to inky black sleep. “could say the same thing to you, babyboy.”

right now, yoongi’s sure of three things: he can’t handle that nickname, he’s most definitely about to cry, and he’s really going to marry you one day.

“and to think, so long ago, you were just a cute little thing in that tight little dress, hiding away in a woman’s room just hoping i would walk in.” yoongi says, eyes scrunching and mouth forming into a massive smile as he reflects back on the night.

“shut up, your breath smells like taco sauce and liquor.”

he leans down to leave a loud, wet kiss right on your lips, one that you can’t help but return to him tenfold. you break away, breathless, and take one long gaze into those yummy honey brown eyes

“oh, min yoongi, hoseok was right.”

he snorts, “about what?”

“you have gone soft.”

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shadowsfandomhellhole · 7 years ago

Text

SCP-Villainous AU. It’s a thing now. :3

A big thank you to @paperhatcollection who wrote part of the Containment Procedures as well as the fantastic Interview portion!

This was inspired by SCP videos.... Sooo... Yeah. Pfft. Enjoy!

Item #: SCP-4268 “Black Hat”

Object Class: Keter.

Special Containment Procedures: At this time, SCP-4268 poses a substantial threat to humanity. SCP-4268 is to be kept under Level-5 protocols at all times. All research is postponed until better methods of containment can be developed. Any personal that interacts with SCP-4268 and displays the following symptoms should be disposed of, and their remains are subject to the sterilization protocol.

Inability to focus attention

Disorganized speech

Memory loss

Hallucinations

Euphoria

Megalomania

Inappropriate emotional responses

Sociopathy

Catatonia

SCP-4268 is to be locked in a 6m by 6m by 6m containment chamber at all times. Walls are to be reinforced with reflective spells to counteract SCP-4268’s powers. There are two doors leading into SCP-4268’s cell, with a short hallway connecting them. The first do is to be shut fully and locked before the second is to be opened. Daily inspections are required to keep the chamber secure and insure that SCP-4268 does not get out. SCP-4268 is to be fed raw meat once a week. SCP-4268 is to be watched at all times.

Description: SCP-4268 is a humanoid creature measuring approximately 1.98 meters in height. Subject appears to be dress in a clean suit consisting of a red dress shirt, gray vest, slacks, and a long coat. SCP-4268 also wears a black top hat on his head, and has a monocle covering it’s left eye hiding it from view. SCP-4268 has dark charcoal colored skin and shark like green tinted teeth. The Subject prefers to be called “Black Hat” and will refuse to answer to any other name.

SCP-4268-a: Not much is known about SCP-4268-a, only that SCP-4268 refers to it as “the doctor”. Its whereabouts are unknown as of now.

SCP-4268-b: SCP-4268-b is a bear like creature with a blue fur and a yellow flower on it’s head. It is non-threatening and has been labeled as “safe”. It has been referred to as “5.0.5” by SCP-4268.

SCP-4268-c: SCP-4268-c appears to be a young woman with the abilities of a reptile. It is unstable and to be kept locked in its cell at all times. Do to 4268-c’s behavior it has been labeled as “Euclid”. It must remain under surveillance and kept away from SCP-4268 who becomes agitated by SCP-4268-c’s presence. It has been referred to as “Dementia”.

WARNING: AUDIO LOG FOR THIS INTERVIEW IS NOT TO BE LISTENED TO

Interview 4268-1: The following interview was conducted verbally by Dr. Alan ********* on */*/**, and was recorded for future use. Dr. Alan ********* and other personal listening at the time were deemed clinically insane following the events of the interview.

Doctor Alan ********* has been shortened to Alan for his format, following the loss of his license

As the interview starts, the recording device begins experiences mild static that persists throughout the interview. It is unknown if this has anything to do with the SCP, or merely the result of faulty equipment.

Alan: You prefer to be called ‘Black Hat’, if I have the right?

SCP-4268: Of course you moron, does my hat look white to you?

Alan: It is interesting you’ve chosen to name yourself after your choice of head-wear- or perhaps branded yourself after your name? Either way, don’t you think it’s a little… on the nose? SCP-4268: Your last name is *********. I can call myself whatever the bloody hell I want!

At this point in the interview, it’s noted 4268 changes his form into a monstrous mash of sharp teeth, talons, buzzsaws, and guts. Alan briefly speaks timidly, but recovers well.

Alan: I- uh, y-yes, fair enough I suppose. But this leads to my next point, um, yes, thank you. Could you explain what exactly you are, or if this is even your ‘true’ form?

It is noted when Alan thanks 4268 he has returned to his normal form. SCP-4268: Ha...hahaha… HAHAHHHAHHAHHAH. SCP-4268: Tsk Tsk Tsk… I am a villain, of course.

Alan: That is not what I meant- SCP-4268: I know what you meant, you fool. Those idiots that work for me pick up on things faster than you do.

Alan: Ah- yes, we’ve captured those two as well. SCP-4268: *chuckles*

Alan: What is wrong? SCP-4268: Not the Doctor.

Alan: Who? SCP-4268: *long silence*

Alan: *sigh* okay, back to the original subject. SCP-4268: Do you really want to know what I am, *********?

Alan: I- yes, I do.

The rest of the recording is unable to be translated due to abnormal static

Addendum: SCP-4268 escaped **/**/**, from Site ****, with the help of new personnel, Dr. Flug Slys, who was revealed to be the missing SCP-4268-a. SCP-4268 escaped during a containment breach along with the other two SCPs under it’s control. It is suspected the SCP-4268-a is the cause of the Breach, and the following destruction of Site ****. The whereabouts of SCP-4268, 4268-a, 4268-b, and 4268-c are unknown. All agents and personnel of other sites and branches are instructed to keep a look out for the SCPs and to report any and all sightings. They must be contained and terminated on sight if possible.

CONTAINMENT BREACH

He wanted to laugh at how easily it was to get the job at the site. The personnel in this place were so easy to trick. Though, he supposed he had his boss to thank for that little ability. Grant it, they had been suspicious of him at first and demanded to know how he knew of the Foundation. They were all rather easy to answer. He knew of the foundation as he had helped out at another site before. (The site number he gave them of course had been one of the sites that had a containment breach that resulted in the whole site having to be taken out. He still prided himself on that outbreak.)

When asked about why he wore a bag, and if he could remove it, he simply stated that he suffered from severe anxiety as well as horrific injuries from the aforementioned breach and the bag helped him keep a level head. He told them if they wanted him to stay sane and be able to work properly he had to keep the paper bag on. They had of course been rather upset about that but luckily didn’t argue. Once they were finally done and he’d answered everything they finally decided to let him join their team.

Flug made sure to stay off the radar for the first month at the site, taking his time in finding out all the “SCPs” that were held there. He didn’t care about any of them really, except one of them and the other two that came with him. He had rolled his eyes when he found the report and read it over. ‘SCP-4268’, he doubted the boss enjoyed being referred to as a number. From what he gathered his boss had already killed off several of the personnel for doing so. Or at least still doing so when the idiots had to go into the containment chamber and called him it to his face. Obviously the humans weren’t learning their lesson, but it didn’t matter in the end they’d all burn along with this retched place.

The doctor hummed quietly to himself as he made his way down the corridor, nodding respectfully to a few of the agents as he passed them. He continued making his way towards his destination slowing as he got to the large containment chamber. He slipped into the room silently looking at the two guards stationed to watch SCP-4268-c at this time. Flug shifted slipping his hand into his pocket, his hand curling around the weapon hidden there. His eyes flicked up to the monitor. The screen showed the inside of the cell, where a familiar girl was running around skittering up the walls and lunging at the camera. He pulled out the gun and aimed it at the guards swiftly hitting them both. The guards jolted before falling out of their chairs.

Flug chuckled and headed to the control panel, making quick work of the security and getting the chamber open. The lizard girl shot out as soon as the doors open and lunged towards him. He held up his hands and motioned for her to be quiet.

“Dementia. Get 5.0.5, and then start letting out the others locked up in here. I’ll get Black Hat.” he murmured. “Hurry!” he ordered. The girl beamed bouncing up and down.

“Got it!” she giggled before taking off out of the room. Flug waited a few seconds before following and heading to the elevator. He pulled out the level 5 clearance card he’d swiped from one the other agents when they weren’t looking and used it to get down to the lower levels. He slipped out of the elevator and glanced around. He heard the blaring of alarms from the upper levels and dived into a closet and shut it. He fell silent listening as to the sound of racing foot steps. The doctor counted the seconds as he waited. Once everything was silent, he slipped out and ran down the hallway. His eyes flickering from sign to sing until he got to the one he was searching for.

Pulling out the card he swiped it and hit the button. He entered the room and raising the gun, taking out the two guards in the room. Flug stepped up to the monitor looking at the screen. The familiar demon stood in the middle of the chamber his head tilted as he listened to the blaring alarms. He shut down the security measures before he head for the door ad opening it he stepped into the small hallway leading to the next door. The doctor pulled out a small bomb and attached it to the door, setting a short timer, before swiftly leaving the hallway and heading to the control panel and switching on the mic.

“Sorry for the delay, Jefecito. I meant to get this done sooner but the agents actually had this place pretty guarded. Stay clear of the door.” he said. Not long after he said that their was a large explosion. The door flying into the room. There was a huff of annoyance from the other but Flug ignored it as he made his way to the entrance to meet his boss.

“Next time, be quicker.” the eldritch stated, walking passed the scientist.

“Of course, sir.” Flug replied following after the villain.

“I assume the two idiots are free?” Black Hat asked.

“Yes, Sir. I set Dementia free, and let her loose. All the others that had been locked up should be out by now taking care of the personnel as we speak.” Flug responded, grinning behind his bag as the sound of rapid gun fire echoed as they made their way to the elevator. Flug pressed the button after swiping the card and stepped in along side his boss.

“Excellent.” The demon said grinning. “Let’s finish up here and get back home then, shall we?” he asked. The doctor gave a nod and as the elevators opened, followed his demonic boss out into the chaos that had over taken the building.

I hope you guys enjoyed that.

#Shadow Writes #SCP #SCP AU #Villainous AU #SCP-4268 #Black Hat #Dr. Flug #505 #Dementia #SCP-4268-a #SCP-4268-b #SCP-4268-c #more aus #i am on a roll #i need to stop #pfft

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