#i know some people will say it’s lazy but GOD seeing him fucking shout because all he wants is to SAVE THEM but they won’t let him??
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dang-dood · 8 months ago
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that moment of pure anguish from the doctor was SO good
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brittie-frog · 1 year ago
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UPDATED Run through of all the demon lore on Tina's 14 hour stream (and some funny moments and only half timstamped because im lazy and doing this for the second time):
- Tina flew for the first time confused, questioned if she was a god and pretended to be an angel to Etoiles
8:10:40 - started flying again and put on an echo-y voice and then a deep voice as she threatened Etoiles for diamonds but still confused why she could fly
- recklessly flying around and most times the echo voice was put on (demon voice??)
(8:35:00 Troubleshooting her demon voice and also states that apparently the flying wasn't planned and she has no clue whats happening)
8:39:40 - let the flying get to her head in that she'll be stronger and better than everyone else because she "forgot how good it feels" to be herself
(angel wings are faster than demon wings apparently)
- flew back to her house - insulting Cellbit's house and threatening him and being possessive of Bagi before realising how possessive she was being and decided not to be demon mode anymore
(Asked the updates admin not to tell others so she could keep the flying because she's a good guy)
(8:54-10:04 break of making a gift box for Empanada and just hanging around)
10:04:50 - she lost empanada and began to fly around and use the demon voice to find her and when Em questioned her flying Tina tried to move the situation on
10:18:35 - suddenly went into cinematic mode where it darkens on top and bottom with a bright spot in the middle in the shape of an eye then it kept flicking on and off and she promised not to do "it" again
- "No watchers necessary" the fuck does that mean
- a ring of fire started to form around her and Em and she begins to threaten the air and say she's has no intention of going home
- shouting that she shouldn't have spread her wings but she's not going home - is being threatened for flying and they've come to drag her back to hell as punishment
- got given a key called "you" and belives that the threat was also extended to the people she loves (Em and Bagi) so wants them to be fully protected
- mentions she has wings and is given a teared feather
- em is excited and wants to go flying but apparently its a "great sin" that comes with trauma and baggage
- "they don't like my type of flying, birds only I guess" hell linked to the federation?? Evil cuca??
- mouse can be told and Tina wants her there but BBH is a bottom of the barrel/last option because she gets annoyed by him (doesn't know if mouse fell or was born demon)
- it's a last ditch option to turn Em into a demon to survive but Tina doesn't know how to do that (if she fails to save Em "God so help [her]")
- giant fire appears on top of the hill and she comments how unforgiving and cruel they are because she's been the best (out of the demons??) And she's promised not to do it again but they're still taunting her
- chat and Tina get jump scared by an enderman
- doesn't want Em to tell Bagi but she will tell her she's a demon in either a month, year or century because she's surely awake or alive at somepoint
10:52:50 - Tina calls for a pause/cut so she can eat
10:56:56- got the shit scared out of her by the sudden appearance of a vat of acid in the lake (Em couldn't see but heard the burning)
(Em got Bad Omen for an hour and 30 and Tina fished up neptunium)
11:08:20 - a tree is lit on fire across the water and Em tells tina after it finishes but it starts again so she can see
- cinematic mode comes back and she begins to complain in demon voice to the "big guy downstairs" and doesn't know what the eye shape means questioning whether they're looking through her eyes
("Spending my Saturday night with my child" it's Thursday morning???)
- fire appears on the land across from the dock with a floating crown that then disappears before the fire
- quickly flies up a bit before settling and saying "interesting" - testing if there is immediate punishment??
11:17:42 - got the achievement "Who's da New King of Hell?" With an image of the crown from before and the step backwards and be lit on fire and tells the "dumb bitches" that she's not coming back
(Ben_Fox_ that was not the time but it was funny as fuck and you had an excuse)
- doesn't want Em to hang out with Mouse too much now - maybe doesn't know if mouse would also be contacted and how she would react?? Saving Em from more danger??
(Tina's scared that her lore could hurt Em and it can't happen because she only has one life)
11:41:15 - Em's favourite creature is a moloch and since she likes fire Tina wonders if she can live with her (in hell??? She'll have to eventually go back??)
11:50:11 - Tina mentions that Em "could be happy there" while she's staring at her Moloch pet/child - maybe if she took Em to hell she'd be safe than in the overworld
11:56:39 - tina tells Em to kill the bees' bloodline and praises her for her bloodlust and then uses her calm demonic voice to call her over to start fishing (the demon power is going to her head and its scaring her child...)
- Tina is now incredibly paranoid about everything
12:24:03 - Em disappeared and Tina immediately panicked and used her demon voice (but she just went to name her moloch Aelia) and then flew up a little - possibly to see if they would come back/she would be punished??
- started accidentally flying again while cutting trees but because nothing happened she continued to because it was easier
12:38:16 - Em tells Tina about her accidental trip to the Nether and Tina tells her not to go again because she doesn't want her to get hurt and she get get stronger if she hangs out with Uncle Bad a bit
(When Empanada goes off to put torches around Tina begins playing No More Birthdays by Sophie May and has canonically said this is how q!Tina feels about Em)
- was using her demon voice to compliment Em but then was messing around with the settings to make it high pitched
(Tina wants a lasso - take her daughter flying??? Please!!)
13:17:11 - realised that she had Speed for like 10 seconds and she doesn't know whether it's her "demon-like reflexes" or the pie but she didn't get it before so definitely demon shit
13:18:01 - accidentally flies again and then in demon voices says she's "changing" - return of her demon powers she can no longer suppress!!
(13:21:37 Met the English Bunny (his language was set to Portuguese, Xaninho/Agent 18??) That Em couldn't see and later named him Donny/Don-Don/Ronny)
13:27:55/13:30:47 - told Donny that the soul lanterns in her house weren't oil but lost souls she had collected but their not the ones of the people she's killed and used her demon voice scaring them
(Em nodding along to Tina talking about Ronny's appearance while not being able to see them and then proceed to fake sleep)
13:43:44 - Ronny finds the comments about fire and souls concerning so he questions the soul lanterns more and Tina explains they're not necessarily dead people but wandering souls kind of like catching fireflies
(Ronny tries to start shit between Tina and Bagi over the Giraffe and Tina threatens with her demon voice and is told to calm down)
14:10:48 - despite saying multiple times that she needs to only use her flying when needed she starts flying around Em again and then when Em gets her horse put Tina starts flying a few times to catch up/accidentally (really only stopping because Foolish was in chat)
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leiawritesstories · 1 year ago
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PART SIX: JUNE
Word count: 8.1k
Warnings: swearing, violence, breaking and entering, fuzzy science, scheming, flirting and more flirting, innuendo, a villain, more violence, blood, minor character death
shout out to @house-of-galathynius for beta reading this hot mess and to @backtobl4ck for encouraging frederick
I don't know if I should say this, but...enjoy!! 😁😈
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Moon Moon!” Aelin clapped her hands twice as she strolled past Fenrys, who lounged against the Boss’s office door like it was the most natural place for him to be. “Thanks for showing up.” 
The blonde man shrugged, a half-smirk curling his lips. “Like I had a choice.” 
“You always do.” She threw him Celaena’s sweet little grin that usually made people either piss themselves, cry, or start babbling. “You can choose to show up, or you can choose to die.” 
“Not much of a choice, Boss,” he drawled. He flopped into the chair across from her desk. “So tell me, who’s the mark?” 
Aelin tapped on her computer for a few minutes before she slid a single sheet of paper across the desk. “Have a good long look, Moon Moon, because this is the only time you’ll see all of this info in one place.” As the Boss, she was many things, and stupid was decidedly not one of them. 
Fen picked up the paper, his dark eyes scanning each line of text and small, grainy photo. He cocked one blonde brow. “Rourke Farran, eh?” Not looking up from the paper, he huffed out a breath. “The man’s whole fuckin’ house is a booby trap, Boss.” 
“I’m aware.” 
“So what’s this bastard done to…god damn.” Before he could even ask the full question, it was answered. “He’s got a front for a front.” 
“I have never tolerated, nor will I ever tolerate, the treatment of human beings like commodities,” Aelin said softly, lethally. Celaena Sardothien’s notorious steel undercut her tone. “Farran thinks he can get away with it because I haven’t come for him. Yet.” 
Fenrys whistled lowly and set down the paper. “What’s your timeline, Boss?” 
Aelin liked this man more and more with each interaction. “I need Farran at the river warehouse by the 10th. You can use whatever means necessary, beat him up a little, get him nice and ready for his session with me, but don’t even fucking think about killing him.” 
“Don’t worry, Boss.” A lazy, hungry grin unfurled across Fen’s handsome face, the dim lamplight reflecting off the scars on his cheeks. “Softening up bad boys is my specialty.” 
“That’s why I hired you.” Aelin took back the paper and tossed it into the shredder next to her desk, which ate through the single sheet with a brief mechanical grinding of teeth. She burned the shreds at the end of each day, never one to take any chances with documents that could potentially be stitched back together. Fenrys stood up to leave, and she waited until he was almost out the door before speaking again. “One more thing, Moon Moon.” 
“Yeah?” He paused, alert, his stance striking an oddly familiar chord in her mind. 
“Farran isn’t dumb enough to put all of his guard dogs in one place.” 
He nodded slowly, working over that little tidbit of information. “Noted. I’ll tell you when he’s ready for you.” With a wink that was far too flirtatious for anyone’s good, Fen left her office. 
Aelin rolled her eyes as she returned to her computer. Her encoded list of targets was shrinking by the week; really, there was only one name left after Rourke Farran received his one-way ticket to her riverside warehouse, and it called to her every day. Some days, it took all of her willpower to stick to her typical Boss hours and Galathynius hours when she knew that if she spent just one more hour as Boss, she could solidify the plans that she’d been simmering for so fucking long. Just before she slit his throat, she’d once murmured to a criminal that she was cleansing the world of villains. In the months since then, that cleansing had nearly been completed. 
She slid her gaze down to the end of the page, following the trail of crimson lines that struck out each name up through Farran’s, and stopped, musing on the last name left. Five letters. One name—the villainous criminal was possibly more elusive than Celaena Sardothien herself. 
Maeve.
On the one hand, it made complete sense that Arobynn’s lover—ex-lover—would have taken over his business, diminished as it was when all of his cronies started fighting over their pieces of the trade after Arobynn died. On the other hand, Aelin had wondered just why the hell Maeve would have wanted to take over Arobynn’s drug- and gun-running business; surely the money couldn’t be the only reason. The more she dug into the grimy, seedy backchannels of truth, though, the more she came to understand why Maeve had done it. 
The woman had been madly in love with Arobynn Hamel, and now she was madly out for blood. 
~
In the prep room of the Gal Inc. labs, Aelin snapped on a fresh pair of sterile blue latex gloves, checked her badge where it was clipped to her lab coat, and nodded at her reflection. It had been seven weeks since Ren had come into the labs to have his SecondSkin changed—she and Nehemia had decided to extend the wearing period to seven weeks, as Ren’s use of SecondSkin was an experiment—and she was curious to see if anything was different. 
“About time,” Nehemia said dryly as Aelin walked into the small, sterile lab, the one that Nehemia typically reserved for experiments that needed to be kept quiet. “I was just about to assume you were in a meeting and start the removal process without you.” 
“Hello to you too, Dr. Ytger,” Aelin returned, just as dryly. “I just had to primp a little longer, you know how much effort it takes to look this good.” 
Nehemia snorted. “Galathynius, if you spent that much time primping, I’d never let you in my lab.” 
“Don’t I know it.” Aelin sat down on the second rolling stool and scooted over to Ren’s side. “Okay, Nemi. It’s your experiment.” 
Quickly but clearly, Nehemia ran through her usual list of removal instructions, then dismissed Ren to go take his shower. He emerged about half an hour later, wearing his robe, his hair damp and his face…
“Aelin, come here.” Nehemia motioned for Ren to sit down and scooted her stool up close so she could examine his ruddy face. “This doesn’t look like a typical hot-shower flush.” 
Aelin scanned the redness on Ren’s face and nodded in agreement. “Allsbrook, does it itch?” 
“Not on my face, no,” he answered. 
“Are you itchy anywhere else?” 
“Yes.” He nodded. “Chest, elbows, upper arms, torso, knees, feet, most of my back, some other areas. It’s not bad, it’s more annoying, like when you have a mosquito bite that you want to scratch.” 
“Would you please remove your robe so we can see if there’s anything visibly wrong with your skin?” Nehemia asked. 
“One sec.” Ren hopped off the chair, went into the shower room, and came back out a moment later. “Just wanted to put my boxers on.” He took off his robe, hung it on the hook in the wall, and sat back down.
“Too much information, Allsbrook,” Aelin grumbled. 
Nehemia ran her analytical gaze over Ren’s body, charting the red rash spread over the areas that he had said were itchy. It looked like an ordinary chafing rash, the skin irritated and slightly split in some places, and some of the redness faded, indicating that it was probably sensitive to the heat of the shower he had taken to remove the SecondSkin. 
“Are you allergic to latex or any of its components?” Nehemia inquired. 
“Not as far as I’m aware, no,” Ren said. 
Nehemia hummed. “Ae, I have thoughts. What do you think?” 
“Prolonged exposure?” Aelin asked. “It almost seems like what happens when you wear the same tightly fitting garment—like a leotard—for an extended period of time and it chafes.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking. It could also potentially be compounded by bacteria and dirt buildup under the material. It lays atop the skin, and as much as we want to claim that there’s no gap, we know there has to be a microscopic distance between the material and the wearer’s skin that could allow that to happen.” Nehemia gently touched two gloved fingers to the rash on Ren’s chest. “Does this hurt?” 
“No.” 
She pressed down. “Does it hurt when I do this?” 
He shook his head. “No. Itches, but it doesn’t hurt.” 
“That’s a good sign, at least.” Nehemia sighed. “Okay, Galathynius, we need to talk before we can decide how to move forward.” She beckoned Aelin towards the back of the room. “Should we go ahead with another application?” she asked, her voice lowered to a whisper. 
Aelin pressed her lips together. “Well, we can’t exactly have him disappear while we try and work out the rash.” 
“I don’t want it to spread or get any worse because it wasn’t treated, though,” Nehemia said. “I think we need to at least treat the rash.” 
“Yes, I agree, but how will that work with another application?” Aelin’s brows furrowed. “And how should we treat the rash if we’re not fully certain of what it is and how it works?” 
“We haven’t yet agreed to do another full application,” Nehemia reminded her, “and my instinct is saying to treat it like it’s a normal chafing rash—hydrocortisone cream, Benadryl, that kind of thing.” 
Aelin nodded. “Okay, that sounds fine. How do you think we should apply the SecondSkin?” 
“Hmm.” Nehemia tugged her lower lip between her teeth. “We could selectively apply it and avoid the rash areas. Theoretically, he’s not going to be stripping down in front of anyone for any reason, so he really only needs to have the right fingerprints and face, maybe footprints too. I vote we just apply the SecondSkin to his hands, face and neck, and feet.” 
“I think we should apply it from hands up to elbows, just to be safe, but that sounds like a solid plan. Do we have hydrocortisone cream here?” 
“Should be in the first aid bin.” Nehemia returned to Ren’s chair. “Okay, Allsbrook, here’s how we’re going to proceed. We’ll treat your rash and reapply the synthetic to your hands and lower arms, face and neck, and feet, which should hopefully give the rash time and breathing room to heal. You should apply this cream every day, as often as necessary, to the parts that are most itchy or inflamed.” She took the tube of hydrocortisone cream that Aelin handed her and applied it to Ren’s rash. 
“Is this something I can find at the pharmacy?” he asked. 
“Yes, it’s a common treatment,” Aelin replied. She walked over to the safe built into the far wall, keyed in the combination, opened the compartment, and retrieved a sleek steel canister from inside. She closed the compartment back up and brought the canister over to the prep table next to where Ren sat. 
Nehemia took off her used gloves and replaced them with a fresh pair. “Ready?” 
“Ready,” Ren confirmed. 
Working in tandem, Aelin and Nehemia carefully laid the almost-invisible film of SecondSkin over Ren’s hands, forearms, face, and feet, carefully molding it to his skin. The pieces had all been prepped beforehand, since it took a significant amount of time to press fingerprints and other distinctive blemishes and markings into the synthetic material, and the SecondSkin molded to Ren’s skin flawlessly, leaving almost no evidence that it was there. 
“Come back in two weeks,” Aelin instructed him as she disposed of her gloves. “We’ll want to see if your rash has improved, which will help us decide how to move forward.” 
“Got it.” Ren went back into the bathroom, got dressed, and came back out as Chaol Westfall, contact lenses placed and bland grin on his face. “See you in two weeks, Dr. Ytger, Galathynius.” He left the lab. 
“We should have seen this coming,” Nehemia groaned when Ren was gone, chucking her gloves into the trash bin. “Honestly, Ae, I feel like such an idiot.” 
“Nemi, you are a genius,” Aelin reassured her. “You’ve been so busy with development and research, and we didn’t even know this could happen until we saw it today.” 
“Yeah.” The chief engineer sighed. “I need to go chart all of this, and you probably have meetings or whatever shit you do in your big fancy office.” She smirked at Aelin.
Aelin rolled her eyes, nudging her friend in the shoulder. “I’d say something smartass, but I do have a meeting pretty soon. Let me know if anything comes up with Allsbrook, yeah?” 
“Of course.” Nehemia waved and turned down a side hallway towards her office. Aelin headed back to the prep room, put her lab coat in the laundry basket, and collected her things before heading to her office and the inevitable day of meetings. 
Two weeks later, Ren came back to the labs, his rash significantly improved. Nehemia removed and reapplied the SecondSkin in the same few areas and instructed him to keep treating the rash, as she didn’t want to move forward with full SecondSkin application until it had completely healed. 
“It’s a good sign that the rash is healing,” she told Aelin over the phone later that day. “In theory, that means the SecondSkin could cause a rash from chafing, irritation, or prolonged use, but the rash can be treated like normal.” 
“Definitely a good sign.” Aelin jotted down that note. “Hopefully, that means SecondSkin can be used for the wide audience we’ve been intending all along.”
“How much longer do you think this is going to be in development and testing?” Nehemia asked. “It’s been over two years, Ae. Shouldn’t this be about the time where we start to consider trial groups?” 
“I’d say yes, but we’ve only just learned about the rash, and we’re not yet sure if the current formula won’t cause that rash.” Aelin was partially thinking out loud. “My gut says to wait until the Ren trial isn’t getting a rash, and then move into trial groups.” Which will give me more time to get rid of Maeve before she can make a move for the SecondSkin tech like Arobynn did, she added silently. 
She was the only person who knew why Arobynn Hamel had died when he did—the former crime lord had taken one step too close to her highly guarded technology, and she’d had no choice but to retaliate. It was…not unexpected that Maeve would try to do the same. 
~
Fenrys Moonbeam might very well be insane. 
People had told him that frequently, ever since he was a reckless kid jumping off the playground structures at school, but he’d never had the thought himself until he was strolling into the Night Owl—a popular nightclub that was rumored to be the primary front of Maeve’s organization—in tight leather pants, a silver sequined jacket, and no shirt. Because rumor also had it that Maeve, the so-called Queen of the Night, had a…taste for handsome men, and he had it on good information that Rourke Farran was a frequent guest at the Night Owl. 
He sauntered up to the bouncer with a lazy, easy grin sprawled across his face. “Hey.” 
The bouncer, who could accurately be depicted as a concrete brick, stared flatly at him. “Invitation only, fancy boy.” 
“I’m with Cadre,” Fen returned, sliding his hand into his jacket to retrieve a beautiful ivory card with purple script embossed across its fine surface. He waved the card at the bouncer. “And they’re expecting me in ten minutes, so it would be great if you’d let me get my pretty ass through the door.” 
“Fuckin’ performers,” the bouncer muttered as he swung open the door. 
“Thank you,” Fen crooned, blowing a kiss at the stone-faced man. The door slammed behind him, and he tucked the invitation—expertly forged by Celaena’s man Nox—back into his jacket and slipped into the crowd of dancing bodies. He winked and smirked his way through the crowd, letting the thumping beat of the music ease his rhythm, until he reached the bar. 
Sure enough, Rourke Farran lounged on a barstool near the far end, one hand around a bottle of beer and the other around the waist of a blonde woman whose lipstick was littered all over his neck. 
Fenrys muffled the snort he wanted to let out and waved over the bartender. “I’ll take a Sex on the Beach,” he purred, giving the guy, who was probably in his early twenties, a wink. 
The bartender’s blush was faintly visible in the flashing strobe lights. “Want that extra strong?” His gaze flicked ever so quickly to Fen’s bare chest. 
“Give it to me as-is, and then we’ll see.” Fen lowered his eyes to half-mast and watched the bartender make his drink. The other man threw the drink together effortlessly, sliding it across the bartop to Fenrys with a little smile of his own. 
“I get off shift in an hour,” he said softly, dark blue eyes alight with hope and a little hesitancy. 
“Good to know.” Fen took a long sip of his cocktail and nodded appreciatively. “Delicious.” In his periphery, he noticed Farran push the blonde out of his lap and stand up, swaying a little, and turn towards the dancefloor. 
He brushed past Fen on his way over. “Get a fuckin’ room,” he slurred, his glassy-eyed gaze flicking once over Fen’s glittering jacket and tight pants. “Goddamn fancy boy.” 
“I’ll be back.” Fen drained the rest of his drink, tossed a twenty on the bar, and rose, following Farran into the sea of dancing bodies. He kept a discreet distance from the man, far enough away to not be noticed but close enough to watch the man’s moves. 
As he had suspected, Farran oozed sleaziness. What he was doing on the dancefloor barely passed for dancing; his gyrating hips and roaming hands were just barely short of outright having sex in public. He moved from girl to girl, changing partners as often as the music changed, leaving a good number of people giving him dirty looks for being too handsy. Fen snorted, knowing that the man probably deserved their scorn. Farran began to move towards the doors, and Fen slipped onto the dancefloor himself, moving fluidly through the crowd, keeping a constant eye on Farran’s steady, subtle escape route. 
Time to move, Moonbeam. 
Feeling a twinge of guilt for not staying to meet the cute bartender, Fenrys watched Farran leave the club and waited exactly a minute and a half before he headed out as well, putting enough unsteadiness in his step to indicate intoxication. Once he was out of the club, he glanced down the street in both directions and then went left. Even if he couldn’t track Farran, he knew where the bastard lived. 
After a quick pit stop in an alley to swap out his flashy jacket for a closely fitted black knit turtleneck, Fenrys headed into the tidy grid of streets that made up western Orynth, taking a meandering route towards the tidy, wealthy neighborhood where Rourke Farran lived. The neighborhood was decked out with security cameras, as Celaena had warned him, so he looped around through the expansive back yards, slinking easily through the landscaped trees and plants until he came to the fence that marked the edge of Farran’s property. There weren’t cameras along the back fence, primarily because of the rotating patrol of guard dogs and security guards, so Fen swiftly scaled the fence and hopped into a tree. 
He waited for the first round of patrols to pass before he carefully reached into the thigh pocket of his pants, withdrew a slim, vacuum-sealed package of meat, quietly cut open the plastic, and tossed the meat in a gentle arc directly onto the grass beside the paved walkway that wove around Farran’s house. A pair of guard dogs came barreling around the corner within sixty seconds, barking and growling and quickly discovering the meat. The second and third patrols weren’t far behind, and it was only a few minutes before all eight guard dogs were tearing apart the meat. 
“The fuck is happening?” A security guard rounded the corner, breathless from sprinting. He saw the dogs calming down and settling back into their patrols after having finished the meat. “God. Which idiot dropped snacks everywhere?” 
Another guard sprinted around the corner. “Everything okay?” 
“One of you jackasses dropped the dogs’ snacks,” the first guard snapped. 
The second one raised his hands in innocence. “I’m not the snack keeper tonight, dude.” 
“Whatever. Just get your ass back to rounds.” The guards nudged the dogs back onto the path and headed away. 
Mentally, Fenrys started counting minutes. He got to four, then five, then slowly and carefully slid down from the tree and darted across the lawn and onto the shadowed back porch. A moment later, he’d scaled the drainpipe leading up the side of the house and was perched on the balcony directly outside the master bedroom. 
Wherein Rourke Farran was fully naked in front of his mirror, with his—
“Fucking hell,” Fen groaned to himself, shaking his head. “Disgusting.” But also enough of a distraction for him to slip down onto the balcony, pull a slender silver tube from his sleeve, raise it to his lips, and blow a tiny needle dart straight into the back of Farran’s neck. 
Farran crumpled to the floor. 
Good work, Moonbeam, Fenrys complimented himself. Now you just have to get the asshole out of his booby-trap house and over to the river warehouse.
Easy. 
Right?
~
“He’s all yours, Boss,” Fenrys drawled as Aelin strolled past on the way out of the storage warehouse. 
She glanced at her smart watch. “It’s only the eleventh, Moon Moon. That was quick.” 
He shrugged, irreverent as always. “What can I say? I like to work fast.” 
“Hopefully not all the time.” She smirked wickedly. “Your bartender boyfriend might be disappointed.”
Fenrys flushed a delightful shade of pink. “How the fuck—”
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answered, Moon Moon.” She winked wickedly at him. “How’s our special guest doing? Is he adjusted to his new home?” 
“It took him some time to get used to the room,” Fen returned, casually pulling a set of brass knuckles from a pocket of his cargo pants and spinning them over his fist. 
Aelin chuckled, soft and lethal. “Not surprising. Thanks, Fen.” She paused just in front of the side door, her gloved knuckles resting on the doorknob. “Oh, Moon Moon?” 
“Yeah?” He froze, his posture still as a…soldier’s. 
“I’ll need you for cleanup on the twenty-seventh.” 
He nodded. “Got it, Boss.” 
Aelin keyed in the door code and left the warehouse, satisfied that she had set the wheels of her plan in motion. While she trusted Con’s assessment of his brother, she wasn’t fully convinced that she could completely trust anyone on her payroll, and Fen’s easy charm masked a cold, heartless willingness to carry out whatever depraved task she demanded of him. Furthermore, that stance of his—the utter stillness of his posture when someone ordered him to stop—had been pricking at her memory for days, and she’d only just realized why. 
Fenrys stood like a soldier. More than that—he stood like one of her uncle’s men, one of the Terrasen Special Forces. 
And Aelin knew the day one of Gav’s men got into Celaena Sardothien’s business would be the day her double identity began to crumble. Even if she wanted to trust Fenrys, she had to confirm for herself that she could, and that meant giving him a fake kill date in case he needed to report back to someone in the military. 
If he did, if he turned out to be a spy, then the TSF would come sniffing around for Rourke Farran when it was already weeks too late. 
~
Aelin laced her fingers with Rowan’s as they strolled through the fancy restaurant’s glass front doors, something settling deep in her chest at the simple, casual intimacy of holding his hand. Her mind had been running in overdrive for the last two weeks, and even now, with ten days left in the month, she hadn’t been able to slow the constant dizzying whirl of her thoughts. 
Rowan was one of the only people who’d brought her a glimpse of peace recently, in the few scattered dates they’d been able to snatch between both of their busy schedules. He flicked her a tiny, secret smile, one that only she ever saw, before approaching the hostess stand with the same confidence that cloaked him when he was in his investigator clothes and badge. And dear god, the things that confidence did to her already throbbing pussy—she was half tempted to slip off her panties and sneak them to him under the table. 
But she was a mature woman, so she wouldn’t. 
“Whitethorn, party of two, seven-thirty reservation,” Rowan said to the hostess. 
The young woman—probably a college student, if Aelin’s guess was correct—tapped a few things into her tablet. “Your table is ready, Mr. Whitethorn. Please, this way.” She led Rowan and Aelin through the low-lit restaurant towards the far wall of windows. Through the glass was a breathtaking view of Orynth, the city cast in shades of bronze as the sun began to drift downwards. 
“Gorgeous,” Aelin murmured, captivated by the view. 
Rowan’s thumb brushed across the back of her hand. “Not half as much as you.” 
She blushed. “You’re quite the flirt, you—oh!” Unexpectedly, a man’s shoulder brushed hers as they wove through the restaurant floor. She looked up to find none other than Police Captain Chaol Westfall, wearing a nice suit and a mildly shocked expression. 
“M–Miss Galathynius,” he finally managed, clearing his throat. “And, ah, Lieutenant Whitethorn. I…I apologize for running into you.” 
“Westfall, what are you doing here?” Rowan inquired, polite on the surface but with narrowed, suspicious eyes. 
“Considering we aren’t at work, it’s none of your business, White-horn, but I was at dinner with a friend of mine,” Chaol shot back. There was definite animosity underlying his words. 
Rowan raised a brow. “You…have friends?” 
“Ah, lighten up, darling,” Aelin interjected before either man could resort to fists. “We don’t all live at our workplace, as we seem to have discovered. And Ro, darling, we’ve left that poor hostess floundering.” She wrapped her hand around his arm and tugged him towards their table. 
He shot Chaol one last suspicious look. Chaol returned the look, but broke the stare-off to nod respectfully at Aelin as she passed. “Ms. Galathynius.” 
When they reached their table, Rowan pulled out Aelin’s chair before seating himself across from her. Questions brewed in the shifting of his eyes. “Question, Ae—do you know Westfall? How?” 
“That was two questions,” she teased. “Yes, I’ve met Captain Westfall before. It’s all part of the business; I’ve met just about every notable figure in Orynth at some function or another. I probably met the police captain at some kind of gala.” 
Rowan nodded slowly, digesting the information. “That makes sense. All those faces probably run together after long enough, yeah?” 
“I try to keep them separate, but yeah.” She flashed him a sheepish grin. “There’s only so many names and faces you can memorize before they all start to appear the same.” 
“Why, Miss Galathynius,” Rowan drawled, his face alight with mischief, “are you implying that there are too many men in suits in this fine city?” 
She shrugged, meeting the gleam of his humor with her own dry wit. “I’m simply observing that if a few less of them were to bother me at every function I attend, my mind would be clearer.” 
“I thought you had a mind like a steel trap, love.” Raising a brow, he sipped his water. 
“It sometimes takes a moment to pull out a name from the file cabinet,” she returned. “And—oh look, here comes our server.” Their server, a sandy-blonde-haired man in his late twenties wearing the restaurant staff’s uniform of white shirt, black trousers, and maroon tie, wore a pleasant (if tired) smile as he pulled his notepad from his apron pocket. 
“Good evening,” he said cheerfully. “My name is James, and I’ll be your server tonight. Would you like to hear about our specials this evening?” 
Aelin glanced at Rowan, whose eyes had visibly narrowed as he scanned the server. The look was so blatantly male, she almost rolled her eyes, but her possessive buzzard relaxed when he saw the silver wedding band adorning the server’s left ring finger. “I actually think we’re ready to order, if that’s alright?” 
James the server just about melted to the floor in relief. “Are you serious?” he asked, lowering his voice to an incredulous whisper. “I—I haven’t had a single easy table tonight, and it’s the last two hours of a double and—I’m so sorry, that was completely unprofessional of me.” 
Aelin chuckled. “Don’t worry, James, was it? Customer service is a rough job.” 
“Tell me about it,” the man grumbled. 
Rowan shot Aelin a confused look. “Ae, love, I haven’t even looked at the menu.” 
“Do you trust me, love?” she asked. 
He pursed his lips, not quite used to letting someone else order his food. “All right.” 
“Perfect.” She blew him a subtle kiss. “Okay, James, is it alright if I give you our order a few steps away?” She lowered her voice conspiratorially, keeping it still loud enough for Rowan to hear. “I want to surprise my boyfriend; I’ve been here more than once but he hasn’t ever been.” 
“Of course.” James smiled, a genuine one this time. “I brought my wife here once when we were dating—took half my paycheck, but it was worth it.” He stepped aside a few paces and Aelin followed, quietly giving her and Rowan’s order. The server’s pen flew over his page. 
“And say hi to Chef Emrys for me, would you?” she concluded. 
“You…you know the head chef?” 
“Bit of a long story, but yes. Tell him Aelin Galathynius says hi, please. Thanks!” She came back to the table and slipped into her seat, leaving the very nice but very shocked server to collect his wits after realizing just who he was talking to and go to place the order. 
“Poor guy looks like he just got hit by a truck,” Rowan observed, smothering a laugh.
Aelin smirked. “I may or may not have given him my full name.” 
“Ah, the name drop.” He nodded sagely. “Just what every famous CEO has to do to the poor server who got their table.” 
“You’ve got quite a mouth for a soldier, you know,” Aelin mused, her words slowing to a near- seductive pace. “A respectable man would never insinuate that his date uses her job title for perks.” 
“I never said I was respectable.” Lazily, his gaze roamed down her upper body, admiring the way her little black dress scooped beneath her collarbones, accentuating the gleam of the single small teardrop diamond pendant that nestled in the hollow of her throat. 
James came by with two glasses of white wine and an appetizer platter with two sharing plates, breaking the dangerous haze of the moment, and Aelin thanked the server as he headed off, no doubt to take care of his other tables. 
Rowan’s jaw slacked just a bit at the sight of the cured meat and prawns arranged on the plate. “Please tell me you didn’t order the most expensive things on the menu, Ae.” 
“Of course not.” She reached across the table and linked her hands with his, the gesture as natural as breathing. “I got us an appetizer to share, a first course, a meat course, and a dessert, and I’m not the kind of person who orders expensive items just to flash her money around.” 
He breathed out a deep, controlled exhale. “I know, love. It’s just…” His thumb rubbed across her knuckles. “I’m not used to any of this—the fancy restaurants, the fancy food, the way people don’t bat an eye at spending thirty dollars for some toast.” 
She cracked a grin at that. “Let me introduce you to the fine, fine work of Chef Emrys, then. I actually used to work for him, way back when I was eighteen and my parents decided I needed to experience real-people jobs.” 
“Way back when,” he drawled, teasing her. 
“Hush, old man,” she teased right back, plating up a sampling of the appetizer plate and sliding it over to him. “I know I’m only twenty-seven, but my stint as a hostess feels like forever ago.” 
“Kind of like how basic training feels like forever ago for me.” Rowan agreed. He bit into one of the cured prawns and nearly moaned, his eyes closing in joy. “God, this is incredible.” 
She beamed. “Wait until you taste Chef Emrys’s filet mignon, Ro.” 
The conversation flowed freely between them after that, only interrupted by the arrival of new food and wine. A mushroom and herb risotto accompanied by an aged Riesling. The promised filet mignon, which almost made Rowan cry with joy, and a spectacular six-year Merlot. And finally, individual blackberry cobblers, the berries ripe and fresh and perfectly sweet-tart, paired with the restaurant’s signature Cabernet. 
“I don’t think I can move,” Rowan sighed as he set down his last empty wineglass. “But it was absolutely worth every bite.” 
“I think I’m going to dream of this cobbler,” Aelin added, regretfully nudging her empty dish towards the end of the table. “Tell me when you’re ready to leave, yes?” 
“Gonna need three to five business days,” he mumbled. 
Her laughter rippled across their low-lit table. “I love when you let that humor of yours loose.” 
A different kind of hunger flickered in his forest eyes. “And I love when I have you all to myself.” 
“Possessive much?” 
He just shrugged. “Call me whatever you want, love, but we both know you only come for me.” 
Flames flickered through her blood at the deep, sinful timbre of his voice. “That’s only because I haven’t introduced you to my drawer full of battery-powered boyfriends.” 
The banked embers simmering in his expression flared into a bonfire, and he sat upright and beckoned their server over. “Suddenly, I’m ready to go home.” 
James was at their table within two minutes. “How was everything for you tonight? Can I get you anything else?” 
“It was absolutely mind-blowing, as always,” Aelin said. “And no, I think we’ll just take the check.” Covertly, she slipped James her credit card, and he gave her a small nod as he went over to the server computer to process the payment. 
“Don’t think I didn’t hear you,” Rowan murmured, the velvet caress of his voice stroking down her spine. “Mind-blowing, Ae?” 
“Would you happen to know anything about that?” she asked, innocently. 
In response, he trailed a brazen stare down her figure. “Seems like you need a refresher.” He stood up far too smoothly for someone who had just finished his fourth glass of wine, gave her his hand for stability as she rose, and then rested that hand against the small of her back, his touch burning through her dress. 
Their server returned with a check folder in his hand and passed it over to Aelin, who glanced over the receipts, signed her name, and tucked her credit card and her copy of the receipt back into her small handbag. “Thanks, James.” 
“Ah, thank you, Ms. Galathynius, Mr. Whitethorn. You might have been the best table I’ve had all day.” He tucked the folder into his apron pocket with a wry grin. “Have a good one!” 
“If it’s good, it won’t be just one,” Rowan whispered into Aelin’s ear. 
A shiver danced down her neck. “Is that a promise, Lieutenant?” 
He held the door open for her as they left the restaurant. “Ask me again when you’re begging for my cock, love.” 
~
Ren Allsbrook, alias Chaol Westfall, was expecting Whitethorn’s visit, but the man’s presence in his office still gave him an oddly unsettled feeling. 
He pasted a bland, blasé expression onto his face. “Yes, Whitethorn?” 
Rowan dropped into the chair opposite Ren’s, regarding him with a piercing look that almost seemed to pierce beneath the layer of SecondSkin cloaking his true identity. “How the hell do you know Aelin, Westfall?” 
Ren shrugged. “We met at some city leader event a while back. Some big thing the mayor hosted so the big names of Orynth could pretend to be civil to each other.” 
“Yeah? How long ago was that?” 
Fucking think, Allsbrook. Chaol Westfall had been the police captain for about three years, Ren had taken over as Chaol six months ago in January, and the mayor’s Leaders Gala was always held in…the fall…“Last October, I believe. You’ll have to give me a little grace on the estimate, since I was damn busy with actual work.” 
“Cute of you to think you can get away with sneering at me from your soapbox, Westfall,” Whitethorn said dryly. “Well, I checked the dates, and the mayor always holds his little party in October, so I’ll buy your story.” 
“My story, huh? When did you get so desperate for leads that you started accusing coworkers, Whitethorn?” 
“Shut up,” Rowan grunted. “I’m just making sure you haven’t been doing anything shady with my girlfriend, jackass.” 
“Ooooooh, we’re using official terms now?” Ren couldn’t resist the urge to press Whitethorn’s buttons. “I thought you were allergic to that kind of commitment.” 
“I wouldn’t get smart-mouthed with me, Westfailure,” Rowan grumbled. “I’ve seen you going to the Galathynius labs. What the hell are you doing there?” 
Ren muffled a rather creative string of curses. “Whitethorn, I know you’re terse, but what the hell was that subject change? Give me some goddamn context, for shit’s sake.” 
“Fine.” Rowan pulled up some security camera footage on his tablet. “This is a record of the feed from the Galathynius, Inc. lab complex’s security cameras, and before you open your mouth, I have clearance. Two and a half weeks ago, on June 4th, you went to the labs. You went again yesterday.” He tapped on the video, and the footage played, clearly showing Chaol walk into the labs and walk back out after a period of fast-forwarding through nothing. 
“Well.” Think, you fucking idiot! “Since we are currently quietly investigating a connection between Galathynius, Incorporated, and the, uh, Shadow Killer—”
“Shadow Assassin,” Rowan corrected. 
“Whatever. That person. You think there’s a connection, and I’m pursuing it. I happen to know a scientist who works in the Galathynius labs, and I set up a couple of meetings to speak with her.” Ren folded his arms across his chest. Buy the story, Whitethorn. 
Whitethorn frowned. “Why didn’t I hear about these meetings?” 
“Because I was being discreet, duh.” Ren poured a heavy dose of sarcasm into the last word.
Rowan grumbled something that sounded like a string of cussing. “I didn’t get sent to this investigation for the laugh track, Westfall.” He stood up and left the office, carelessly banging the door shut behind him. 
“Jackass,” Ren grumbled. He turned back to the endless slog of paperwork and files he had to get through, because the job of police captain came with a lifetime supply of that shit. Against all beliefs, he’d actually come to enjoy this job, this role, and he was just as invested in the case as Whitethorn was. 
He just happened to be on a different side. 
~
This is fucking insane, this is fucking insane, this is fucking insane. Those were the words running through Fenrys’s head as he and his twin strolled down the secret back stars of the Night Owl. He was barely able to focus on the opulence of the hallway—plush velvet lining the walls, fine mahogany banisters, and black wall torches and overhead lights giving the whole space a deep purple glow—when his mind was so focused on what lay at the end of the walk. 
“Relax,” Con muttered. “Don’t get us fucking killed before we’ve found out what she wants.”
“I’m trying,” Fen grumbled. He straightened the lapels of his jacket, the same sequined one he’d worn to the Night Owl three weeks ago. “But—”
“But nothing.” Con cut him off. “Remember why we’re here.” 
“Right.” Because Celaena had trusted the two of them with infiltrating Maeve’s lair. Because they were the key to taking down the last obstacle in Boss Sardothien’s path, whatever the hell it was. 
The masked guard in front of the twins stopped at a dark wooden door at the end of the hall. “Wait here,” he said, expressionless. He went into the room, closed the door behind him, and came out a few minutes later just as expressionless. “Maeve will see you now.” And he opened the door. 
Fenrys took a quick, deep breath and strolled into the dark-paneled office, Con at his side, both of their gazes immediately locking onto the woman who sat behind the imposing black marble desk at the far end of the room. Her face was pale, nearly opalescent in the darkness, her lips were stained scarlet, and her unnervingly violet gaze was fixed on the twins. 
“Thank you for being willing to meet on such short notice, boys,” Maeve said, her calm, cold voice slicing through the room like a blade. 
“Our honor,” Fen replied. Maeve gestured at the pair of leather chairs opposite her desk, and the twins sat down. 
She steepled her fingers under her chin. “I have a job for you.” 
Con shared a loaded look with Fen. “Both of us, or just one?” 
“Both of you. I need one of you for each side of the job.” 
Slowly, Fen nodded. “Alright. What can we do for you?” 
One corner of Maeve’s scarlet lips curled upwards. She retrieved a thin manila file from her desk and slid it across the desktop. “Fenrys, kill this man.” The order was as clearly and casually enunciated as if she was asking for a glass of water. “Connall, you will stay here to monitor Fenrys’s task.” 
Beside Fenrys, Con’s posture stiffened. “How?” 
“We have an advanced tech space that will provide all the equipment you need, as well as the chance to experiment with some of the devices we’re working on.” A gleam flickered briefly through the Queen of the Night’s unflinching stare. “And I require company.” 
“Alright.” Con dipped his head in acquiescence, flatly refusing to meet the sharp, concerned gaze Fen shot towards him. 
“Excellent.” Maeve smiled, and it sent a shiver down Fenrys’s spine. “You may go, Fenrys. I expect it won’t take you too long to get the job done.” 
“I pride myself on efficiency,” he smirked, masking the oily chill in his blood with a lazy, half-wild grin. He rose, nodded at Maeve, and strolled out of the room and then out of the club, his steps sure and unfaltering until he was around the corner and out of sight. 
Then, he ducked into a side alley and slumped against the wall, his veneer of easy confidence dropping to reveal his hidden terror. Fuck! He’d left his brother in that spider’s lair; gods only knew what could happen if either of them failed to do what Maeve commanded. Hands shaking, Fenrys reached into the hidden inner pockets of his jacket, his fingers closing around the comfortingly cold steel of his favorite twin flat knives and the envelope containing the thick piece of cardstock that had been in the file. The least he could do—for himself, for Connall, and for the man he had to kill—was carry out his task quickly, before the Queen of the Night could hurt his brother.
And so, heart heavy, Fenrys Moonbeam adjusted his jacket and the weapons contained within it and began his prowl towards Orynth Police headquarters.
~
Rowan arrived at Orynth PD unusually early on the morning of June 30. After a restless night—he’d tossed and turned far into the wee hours of the morning, snatched probably three solid hours of sleep, and had a muddled collection of dream snippets—he’d just decided to bite the bullet and drag his ass out of bed at five in the morning. Shortly before six, he keyed in his code at the door of the police station, let himself into the quiet, chilly building, and dragged himself to the locker room to dump his bag and splash some icy water on his face. With his vest strapped on and his badge around his arm, he grabbed his laptop bag and trudged up the stairs to the offices, ducking into his office to drop off his things and try to form a to-do list. 
Fuck, he needed caffeine. He needed it badly enough that he’d even drink the bitter shit from the common-room carafe. So he pushed his chair in, left his office, and went down to the bullpen, following the faint scent of the first batch of coffee. Operating on autopilot, he was halfway to the break room before he smelled it. 
Blood. 
That coppery tang was unmistakable. 
Fuck. 
Coffee forgotten, Rowan whirled around and strode back to the bullpen, following his nose like some kind of hound. A bloodhound, whispered the traitorous part of his mind that sounded an awful lot like Aelin’s witty laugh. In any other context, he might have laughed along. But not this time. Head down, he tracked the metallic stench of blood across the bullpen, its tang growing heavier with each successive step he took. The blood, wherever it was, was still fresh enough to be that strong, but old enough to have spread its scent through a significant part of the floor. Both of those things worried him. A lot. 
Hand straying to his holster, Rowan rounded the corner towards the cluster of desks where the detectives and Westfall worked whenever Westfall was in the bullpen. He inhaled, catching a lungful of blood-scent, so strong it nearly knocked him back. That part of the floor was still shadowed in the early-morning dimness, so he flicked on the nearest light for a better visual. 
The flashlight in his hand clattered to the floor. His other hand clenched around the cold, smooth handle of his gun. 
He’d found the source of the blood stench. 
He blinked. Shook his head. He snapped his jaw shut, swore at himself a few times, imagined Gav yelling at him for losing his mind like a goddamn fucking green idiot, and took one step forwards. 
He froze. 
Sprawled facedown in a pool of his own blood, the back of his skull concave as if bashed in with a heavy, blunt object, with a bullet hole ripped through his temple and knives pinning his now-limp hands to the desk, was Chaol Westfall. 
Rowan locked up the side of himself that immediately started screaming questions and approached Chaol’s…corpse…carefully, forcing the investigative side of himself to take the lead. He cautiously nudged Westfall with his baton, noting the lack of response. With that amount of blood loss, he’d be more shocked if the man was alive, but he still had to go through the steps. As much as he could, Rowan circled the body, clocking each new wound he found on the man’s body. It was…more brutal than he had initially noticed, slashes and cuts scattered over the body, as well as the knives stabbed through the hands and the obvious point-blank range of the bullet, marked by its entry and exit wounds. 
As he came to the other side, Rowan stopped once again, because there was a goddamned note tacked to Westfall’s forehead. No—nailed to his forehead. 
Fuck.
He pulled on the pair of latex gloves he kept tucked into his belt and gingerly reached for the note, lifting it up enough to read it. He didn’t remove it; he was too experienced to fuck with a crime scene like that. He did, however, lift up the paper, which was surprisingly thick and high-quality for a fucking assassin signoff. Three words were printed onto the note in dark ink. He tilted the paper slightly, and the black ink shimmered with a dark purple sheen, indicative both of its quality and probably of the signature colors of whoever the hell had written the message. 
Tread carefully, Lieutenant. 
There was no signature. There was, however, a symbol stamped beneath the short, threatening message. Rowan peered at the stamp, sharp gaze scanning it until the shape came into focus. It was an almost photographic image of an owl, the bird posed in eerie stillness, its inked eyes large and unblinking. And atop the owl’s head sat a crown, a perfect arc of five jeweled spikes. 
It was the mark of the Queen of the Night.
~~~
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Text
Alrighty kids, dad has some thoughts to share.
I‘m talking about Helluva Boss episode 6 „Truth Seeker“… uhm obviously spoilers yk
Just to remind y‘all in this episode ma bois Blitz and Moxxie were kidnapped by some shady government people. They were eventually drugged resulting in one funky ass trip. What I wanna talk about is this scene:
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(Pic is a direkt screenshot from the episode on YouTube)
In his drug out state Blitz finds himself crawling up these stairs with Stolas sitting at the top, taunting him the entire time. But lets take a look at the colour scheme. Because obviously I‘m not the first to notice what this looks like, especially considering the white feathers falling down and everything.
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(Got the pic from the Hazbin Hotel Fandom Wiki)
Folks, lemme introduce you to Blitz personal stairway to heaven.
Now Heaven has always been a sort of scary concept to me (religious trauma says hi) the pure desperation I have seen in some members of my old church. It honestly terrified me more than their accusations and shouts of me being sent to hell to burn in eternal damnation. I see this desperation in Blitz here.
Imps are ranked lowest in hell‘s hierarchy yet Blitz managed to build an independent business and make a name for himself, he has a family as fucked up as they might be, but he needs the book (can’t spell the proper word, to lazy too look it up). He can‘t call off the deal without loosing everything he‘s worked so hard to gain.
But them something unexpected happened to him. Blitz found his heaven with Stolas. Going back to the first pic we can see that he in not only putting Stolas in a clear position of power here, he is going as far as putting him in the position of God. A crule unloving god, a paradise he can never reach without giving himself up completely. Their deal binds him, he is stuck watching, reaching out but never quite grasping. And to him Stolas is the puppeteer behind all this pulling on his strings making him do as he pleases but still Blitz can not help but want him. For more than the book, for more than just sex. Blitz wants Stolas.
Golden binds appear on his limps and yet he still continues his way up. At first of his own accord but when he shows a moment of hesitation Stolas is there with a chain around his neck to pull him up the rest of the way (not unlike the chains we see between overlords and the souls they own is Hazbin Hotel)
This is how he sees his relationship with Stolas. Blitz gives all the power over to him and he hates it. But quite like the souls in Hazbin he can‘t leave.
Lastly I wanna address the figures standing beside Stolas with the big fan things, because they too look like Blitz. He is serving Stolas constantly even when he hasn‘t even made it halfway up the stairs and not getting any acknowledgment for it. (this is of course what Blitz perceives / belives, because obviously Stolas wants nothin‘ more than to love this little guy)
I don‘t think Blitz is even consciously aware of all this shit. He just knows that there is a power imbalance (which is very real btw. no matter how much Stolas wants to ignore it) and he doesn‘t like it.
Welp I hope this made sense, was just something that was brewing in my head for a while so I thought might as well put it out there, offering my mind to the people’s judgement.
Have a nice day everyone!
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savemeaimeemann · 4 months ago
Text
The second chapter of my fic is on
AO3
Everything is Romantic
Chapter 02 // The Kettle is Whistling
Following the line of police cars to Arkham late that night, Genie slipped in as a guard, courtesy of a so-called "friend." The disguise was easy enough to get; she just needed an oversized uniform and a hat to tuck her hair under. She looked plain and forgettable, which was exactly the point.
"I'm supposed to check in here. Mike called me to help with an inmate," she said, keeping her voice steady.
"Fine. Just get moving, we don't have all day... and you're starting now? At this time of night? Typical... lazy," the guard grumbled, waving her through.
Genie ignored him and headed quickly down the hallway, hoping it was the right direction. Shouts echoed from every direction, but there was one voice louder than the rest, coming from the upper floors.
Her sixth sense was right. Arthur.
Footsteps thudded above her, heavy and fast, like a chase was already underway.
One hour ago
“Remember when I told you I had some delightful intel on the abuse in Arkham? Well, tonight—let’s hope I’m wrong—but I think I can snag some proof. If I hear anything juicy, I’ll signal you with a flashlight from the nearest window facing the front. You need to get your team in fast, or I’ll just have to do it myself. And we both know how that ends.”
“Genie, I get that you can’t stand those guards, but come on... You’re not the first to whistleblow. Why is this suddenly urgent?”
“Because you owe me, Henry. And deep down, you know it. Now, let’s make this a little fun, shall we? You used to be such a good sport.”
“You mean when you were a mercenary instead of a lawyer? I really deserve this, don’t I?”
“Oh, absolutely. Nothing says fun like a bit of chaos. Now let’s get to it.”
“Gen, I swear to God, you better be right about this… you know that there r actually things going on the city that really really attention? thanks to your new toy/lover boy”
“Oh, fuck! Like what? Where were you when people like Arthur needed your help?”
“God, can you hear yourself? You acting as if you have.. idk.. a heart?.. are you sick, Genie?”
“Ughhh…”
Fine, Commander Killjoy. I’ll have two teams ready—one for the front, one for the back. Just be discreet with the signal, and for God’s sake, don’t do anything reckless. I can’t cover for your... extracurriculars like I used to.”
“Yes, Mom. I’ll behave. Promise! But no guarantees I won’t have a bit of fun…”
“Gen…”
“A tiny, tiny bit!”
“God, if you r right then.. lets see..”
---------------
"I'm gonna f***ing murder you all!" Arthur's scream echoed through the halls.
"Sure, Arthur, and I'm the Queen of Sabah..." One of the guards muttered under his breath as she crept closer.
She could hear everything, and the guards weren’t even trying to be discreet about it. Their voices carried clearly, a brutal mix of punishment and humiliation meant for Arthur, but loud enough for the rest of the inmates to catch every word. Arthur was even atempting with some jokes.. using the little humor letf in him. But it was too late, it was designed to crush any hope he might have been stirring up among them.
Genie followed the screams, keeping a safe distance. She saw them drag Arthur into a bathroom, shoving his head under the faucet and tossing him around like he was nothing. It was the kind of old-fashioned torture you’d expect in a place like this—nothing subtle, just raw violence dressed up as discipline.
Inside, one guard was already straddling Arthur while the other two held him down, too busy laughing at their own horrid little show to realize they'd soon be part of a very different act.
Genie moved fast. Like a shadow slipping in behind the guard hovering over Arthur, she bent low, wrapping her fingers into his greasy hair, pulling just hard enough to make him flinch.
“Are you all turned on for me?” she whispered, her lips curling into a smile that sent shivers.
The pocket knife was out before he had a chance to blink—her wrist flicking expertly as she dragged the blade across his throat. A swift, clinical cut. He barely had time to register what happened before blood sprayed out, splattering the floor in vibrant arcs.
“Oops,” she said, her voice sweetly mocking as she turned to the others, standing there like stunned cattle.
They got a lovely shower of their friend’s blood. Thats for sure.
One guard blinked rapidly, his jaw hanging trying to process the whole scene while standing up as if to run. “What the hell? Who are you?”
“Go on,” she taunted, leaning back against the wall, casual as you please. “I locked all the doors on my way in, so you can scream. Please, do. I’m dying for your moral lesson, now”
One of them bolted—because, of course, there’s always a runner. But Genie? She wasn’t finished with the one right in front of her.
“You could be nex—”
Bang. The bullet hit his knee before he could finish, and his legs buckled with a sickening crack. He screamed, obviously, but Genie just watched him squirm, dispassionately driving her knife into his thigh to keep him entertained.
“Arghhh!”
She cocked her head, feigning curiosity. “Are you serious?” Her voice dripped with boredom.
From behind her, the other guard—the one who had backed himself near the door—finally put two and two together. “Jesus! I know you… You’re that lawyer wh—”
Before he could finish, she slammed her boot into his groin. The way his body collapsed to the floor was almost...artistic. The hairpin was already in her hand as she tugged off her cap, shaking her hair free.
“Squeeler!” She stepped forward, crouching down with the kind of smile that never reached her eyes. He spat in her face—charming.
Her hand froze mid-motion. She wiped the spit off slowly, too slowly, and gave him a smile that promised terrible things. “Well, now that was just rude. But don’t worry, I know a little trick.”
She pinned him down with ease, pressing the venom-laced hairpin dangerously close to his wide, terrified eye. “Normally, I only need one pin, but tonight feels special, doesn’t it?”
She glanced over her shoulder at the second guard, still whimpering and bleeding out by Arthur. He looked pitiful. Pathetic, really. A puppet with its strings cut.
The guard beneath her whimpered. “Please… don’t…”
“Oh, but darling,” she cooed, leaning closer, eyes gleaming. “You’re going to love this.” She pressed the pin against his eye, watching with satisfaction as it punctured, releasing the venom in a quick, clean pop. His scream filled the room, echoing off the walls like music. Beautiful, horrible music.
Arthur, face-down in a pool of his own blood, was silent now. Not dead—just detached, floating somewhere far away. He wasn’t part of this anymore, even tho he could feel the warm blood running on the floor, close to him.
She turned back to the second guard, who was clutching his knee, blood spilling out faster than his bravado. “What’s wrong? I’m not doing it for you?” she teased, tilting her head, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Where’s your sense of humor?”
He spat again. Ugh. Men and their disgusting bodily fluids.
Genie sighed, wiping her face with exaggerated disgust. “Classy. Alright then, guess I’ll just have to amuse myself.”
She leaned in close, voice dropping to a whisper. “Let’s see how funny things can get…”
______
"Enough, Genie!!!"
There he was—Connor, her reliable but constantly exasperated police friend—standing right in front of her, hands on his hips, looking like a babysitter who’s just walked in on the house on fire.
“I’ve got the team downstairs,” he said through gritted teeth. “I knew you were going to mess this up. Now, get out of here. Let me handle it from here.”
“But wait! I haven’t even finished threatening this one yet—he’s going to be my witness! I’ve got his wife and kids all nicely under the radar... just give me a minute—”
“A what?” The guard, in a daze of pain and disbelief, somehow found his voice.
Connor cut in before Genie could answer. “I’ll do it, G. Just leave. Now.”
Genie rolled her eyes, but there was no humor behind it. “Not without him!” She pouted, jabbing a finger at Arthur, - like a child pointing at her favorite teddy bear - still lying on the floor, drowning in a growing sea of his own blood of the two lifeless guards.
Connor sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Yes, I know... just... get out of my sight. Both of you.” He gestured toward the scene, the chaos she'd created. “I’ll clean this up, G, but this is it. We’re calling it quits after this. You went too far—it's going to be damn near impossible not to incriminate you at this point.”
Genie grinned, as if the whole thing was a compliment. “But I know you’ll do a great job figuring it all out. You always do.” She gave his hair a playful ruffle as she moved toward Arthur, completely ignoring the tension in the air.
Connor recoiled.
G was close to Arthur’s face now, “Ugh, don't want you in touch or breathing that! God knows what they have in their blood.. not higienical, Arthur!, get up!”
Arthur, meanwhile, wasn’t even present in the moment. His body was here, sure, but his mind? Gone. Probably off somewhere nicer, floating between half-consciousness and whatever place your brain goes when it’s been off meds for days.
Genie crouched next to him, feigning concern with a wicked glint in her eye. “C’mon, princess. Do I have to carry you too?”
Arthur didn’t respond. He couldn’t, really. Not that she needed him to, she already knew the deal.
He was alive, she was sure of that, but she should have come sooner.
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draventhedemon · 2 years ago
Text
IT'S FINALLY OUT!!!
THANK GOD!!!
Thank you for being patient! It's just I needed some of the Dream Drama to die down before I posted this.
Once again ⚠️ Warning ⚠️ there will be swearing
Also I only use the names of some of them because I actually don't know some of their names and I'm too lazy to look them up.
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(Y/n pov)
"Tommy, I swear to god! Stop vlogging the dress." I say as I pinch my nose. "Tommy! Get ready, the wedding is in 2 hours and your not even in your suit." Eret says as I see him in his stunning maid of honor dress.
"Tommy, your not even one of the bridesmaids. Go over to Dream's side of the building" I shout as he continues to run around and just film me from multiple different angles. "Tommy, I swear to god my character will go evil again if you keep this up" I jokingly shout as Nick walks in and picks up Tommy. "Clay asked for him, sorry Y/n" he laughs as Tommy is just whining and shouts "why!?!" As the door shuts.
"Y/n, can I paint your nails" Niki says as they come out of one of the changing rooms "At this point, do what you want" I mumble as I struggle to sit down in this dress. But I pick the nail polish and they start making intricate designs.
"Sorry I'm late!" Puffy says as she burst into the room already ready with their makeup and outfit. "Damn! I'm getting jealous, I haft to wear white while all of you dress up in neon fricken colors" I jokingly say as I realize that she is holding a bottle of champagne. "Eret, look what I got! I stole it from the reception!" Puffy waves around the bottle as they place it on the table.
"I'm sorry what" Eret says as she moves closer to pick up the bottle. "Good job Puffy? but I thought you were supposed to be the responsible one?" Eret says with confusion as we all just sit there "Well, how many times is Y/n gonna get married. You gotta make the day special" they smile as we all laugh at the antics
(An hour before the wedding)
"I'm getting a bit scared" I mumble as everyone just stops where they were at and just look at me. "Why? You have no reason to be scared" Eret says as all of my friends huddle around me. "First of all, my parents haven't shown up yet" I say as I look up to try and get no makeup on my face smudged. "I'm sure they will show up soon" Puffy says while hugging you. "Let's hope so." I mumble
(Dream pov because I think it would be funny)
"Tommy! We have 40 minutes and you don't have your suit on!" I shout as He vlogs Nick and George playing Minecraft in their suits. "So they are allowed to play Minecraft but I can't vlog-" "were in our suits Tommy" They both mumble in unison, "that's what I said, JYNX, FUCK" They both drop the game then go into a game of who said it first.
"Tommy, just put on your suit, and if you do" I sigh as I regret what I'm about to say
"I'll tell the Dj to play the Speedrun song at the after-party" I'm gonna get murdered by Y/n... But it's works because the second he hears that he grabs his suit and goes into the bathroom. "Y/n is going to kill you" George laughs as Nick states that fact.
"I know that" as I chuckle and join them in Minecraft.
"you think we could do a Manhunt in the span of 32 minutes?" Nick says as we go into an empty world.
"We can try"
(the wedding, Y/n's pov)
"Eret, my parents still aren't here!" I say as calm as I can as I get up to leave. "Hey, if you're panicked this much. We can always have Phil walk you". "Maybe, but why haven't they arrived!?! They should support me in this moment, what if something bad happened?!? What if they got into a car crash, I need to check on them! What if their dead!?!-" I go to leave as Eret grabs me by my arm.
"They aren't dead, Y/n! Their running late, all people can get stuck in traffic. And you can't keep Dream waiting." Eret says as I look at him and put my head down. "Sorry" I mumble, "hey, what kind of Maid of honor would I be if I didn't stop the Bride from getting cold feet." She smiles as she walks me to the Isle.
(Eret pov)
"Hey Phil, Y/n's parent's haven't arrived. and they were supposed to walk them down the Isle, so I was wondering if you could-"
"sure, why not mate" he smiles and walks over to Y/n with Kristen. "You alright Y/n?" Kristen asks
(Y/n's pov)
"You alright Y/n?" Kristen asks as I nod and give them both a hug. "You ready?" Phil asks "as ready as I'll ever be" I smile as I grab both their arms.
And as I hear the music start playing I know
'oh fuck, this is it, welp, lets go!'
As soon as the door opens
(I made it a Church because idk what else to do)
I see Tommy Standing their with his camera as I begin walking down the Isle. From where I'm standing I can see Clay happy crying. Everyone is their and I've never been so happy.
As I walk down the Isle and get to Clay, I stand there for a second before Clay asks. "What happened to your parents?" "It's a long story, I'll tell you it at our Honeymoon" I say as I smile. "No, were gonna be doing something else at the Honeymoon" he sneaks in one last sex joke as I giggle and turn to the priest.
"Please be seated…" The priest says...
(idk who the priest should be, so I'm gonna call him Joe... Paster Joe)
"Friends, family, and loved ones, we come together today, in the sight of the divine and of you as witnesses to join Clay ****** and Y/n L/n in marriage. We gather around them now in this wonderful place, and we look on with love and hope as these two begin their new life together as one." Paster Joe says as we smile and look at our friends and then back at eachother. "Clay ******* and Y/n L/n, are you ready to proclaim that foundation of love for one another in the sight of the heavens and these witnesses?"
"Yes" Clay says simply, but we're not simple
"Hell fuckin yeah!" I say as I feel Badboyhalo's blood pressure rise.
"Clay, do you take Y/n to be your lawfully wedded wife? Will you honor and cherish them? love, trust, and commit to them, through joy and pain, sickness and health, and whatever life may throw at you both, until death do you part?"
"I do"
And Y/n, do you take Clay to be your lawfully wedded husband? Will you honor and cherish him? love, trust, and commit to him, through joy and pain, sickness and health, and whatever life may throw at you both, until death do you part?"
"I do"
"At this time, Y/n and Clay will exchange rings. The wedding ring is symbol of binding. A symbol of attachment and of belonging, not of possession, but of partnership."
As he says that I see Clay kneel down and pick up the rings from on top of patches box.
"oh my god you weren't kidding" I laugh as I take his ring and put it on his finger and he puts my ring on mine. "Now I do believe that you two have prepared your own vows" The Priest says as We nod. And we both go to say our vows together at the same time but we stop.
"you can go first if you'd like" "no, you should go first" " nah, because ladies first"
"you know what" I smile as the crowd of family laughs.
"I would say a Game of Minecraft would settle this but there isn't a computer so... Rock paper scissors" I laugh as We play a round and he picks rock and I pick scissors.
"alright Y/n, we met 3 years ago but It's felt like centuries. Our first interaction was a stupid war in Minecraft. When Wilbur brought you into the smp to play out a stupid drug van storyline. You seemed mature, but apparently don't judge a book by it's cover, because of you kicking my ass in a 1v1" he laughs and looks around at the crowd of family and friends than back to me.
"I will love and cherish you until the day I die, you came from the UK and now live under my roof. And as long as you stay their you will have anything you need on a silver platter" he smiles and I feel tears go down my cheek.
A/N (I'm not romantic, can you tell?)
After than I say my vows with tear filled eyes. (I'll allow you to imagine you're own vows, because I'm not romantic at all)
We go to the reception and see all of our friends. I make a detour to see my maid of honor. "Eret! Did I do well?" I smile as he responds "you cried a lot, but you're vows were beautiful" she smiles as we start up a conversation.
It's going well up until Tommy runs up and says "can you promise me not to kill Dream?" I look at him confused until I hear the music thats playing. "You know that promise he made about an Irl manhunt" I look at the camera. "Yeah?" Tommy mumbles, I smile and say "how about an Irl manhunt, wedding addition. Just to scare him" I chuckle and playfully run through the crowd. And thank god for flats because I would have tripped if I wore anything else.
I see him talking to Nick and George, I run over and tackle him. "We had one rule clay!" I smile and hug him. "It was the only way to get Tommy into his suit?!" He puts on a funny smirk and kisses me on the lips
"I love you" he Mumbles
"I love you too" I hug him once more...
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princessroyal95 · 2 years ago
Text
This is love (Charlotte Katakuri x Hirawashi Len) [English version]
Summary
Who can love a monster like Charlotte Katakuri? He is the son of Charlotte Linlin, known as Big Mom, and the question of the second eldest child in the family is who could love someone like him.
The idea of him falls apart when he meets a somewhat tsundere girl, but with a heart of gold that will make the commander fall in love.
-----------x-----------
Chapter III
A quiet morning in Totto Land where the birds were singing to signal the new dawn. But also the hommies sang with happiness knowing that today will be another pleasant day to enjoy. The people of the city left their houses to return to their chores giving life to Sweet City. The hustle and bustle was present where you could perfectly hear the laughter of the little ones running around playing.
And in Big Mom's castle there was the peace that everyone was waiting for. And in one of the rooms they found Len still sleeping in the bartola. Her second hobby was to sleep in peace without anyone bothering her. And her first hobby? Eating until she was completely satisfied. And even though she knew she was in the world of sweets, it was the best thing that could happen to her in life.
Her sleep was interrupted when she heard someone knocking on the door. She gave a long yawn to what she sat on the bed looking at the door with some sleep. She grunted reluctantly and was having a rather interesting dream.
"Who the fuck is it?"
"M-Miss Hirawashi, breakfast is ready." She heard a man's voice on the other side of the door to which Len raised a strange eyebrow.
"I'm too lazy to go to the dining room."
"I-If you want you can eat in the room."
"I like the idea!"
The doors opened, making way for the cooks who brought the food needed to feed a normal person. Len sat on the edge of the bed looking at the dishes. Candy that was food for that kingdom, after all. She was drooling with so much candy in between. The men left the room, leaving the girl alone.
"This is definitely my paradise!" And without thinking, she began to eat, savouring every moment of the sweets.
-----------------
In the training room, there were the three older twins who were training non-stop. However, Katakuri made no effort to train, rather he watched his brothers. His thoughts began to wander and he began to think about why mother wants this girl to marry one of them. It was clear that this girl caused a great deal of interest in Big Mom. And not only because of her strength, but also because of her character. He put his hand on her scarf for fear that someone might see what he feared.
However, a brief sound made his thoughts scatter to see a small person running towards him and then embracing him like never before.
"Oni-sama!" shouted Flampe loudly.
"Is something wrong, Flampe?" he asked in a worried tone to his sister.
"I just wanted to see you and hug you," the little girl confessed, looking at her brother as her cheeks turned pink.
"Just for that or to bother him," Oven asked, seeing the two of them somewhat close together.
"You're a liability, Oven." Flampe stuck out her tongue in annoyance.
"Whatever you say, brat."
Both male brothers know perfectly well Flampe's obsession with Katakuri who even considered him a God above all men. She admired him so much that she would even kill anyone who took him away from her. Katakuri did only one thing: he put his hand on the little girl's head.
"Oni-sama ...," Flampe called Katakuri, "you're not going to marry that woman, are you?
"Hey brat, that's Mom's thing." Daifuku interrupted before his older brother said anything. "You can't decide if Katakuri and that dwarf are going to get married in the end."
"But don't you remember?" Oven hit Daifuku as a joke. "The girl said that we would have a month to impress her and during that time, she will decide. And if not... that's where mother would come in."
"I thought you admired that girl." This puzzled Flampe when she heard her older brother's voice.
"Yes... but I'd rather she married another of my brothers than you!"
"I wish I could refuse, but our mother chose me along with Daifuku, Oven, Perospero and Cracker." He bent down his whole body to keep up with his little sister by stroking her head. "You have to accept my destiny."
The only thing the little girl could do was to blow up her cheeks, annoyed that her brother is not paying attention to her. It was true that she wanted her older brother to be happy, but not with that girl. It didn't really give her confidence.
Flampe walked away from Katakuri and she is not going to give up so easily. She will prove that this young woman is not at all compatible with her brother. She turned on her heels and ran towards the door but hit someone causing him to fall backwards.
"Little Sister Flampe!" cried Perospero as he saw his sister on the floor. "What are you doing lying on the floor?"
"I think she's tired from all that training with the triplets," laughed Cracker receiving a glaring glance from his sister.
"You're such fools!"
"You're the fool here for meddling."
"Oh, come on, Cracker. Don't insult our little sister."
With all her pride shattered by her brother Cracker, she runs away, leaving the five strongest men in the Charlotte family alone.
Silence. An uncomfortable silence for those men. Only the breathing of each one could be heard trying to assimilate this uncomfortable situation. But he looked at the triplets who were quietly in their place. He smiled proudly as he slowly approached with movements that would be somewhat elegant for any living being.
"Well ...," he says something finally, "how do you plan to impress the girl?"
"Do you really ask that?" A vein came out of Daifuku's temple.
"You have to have a strategy if you want that girl to notice you," spoke the older one, "she's young and beautiful, and she's a beast. That's what mum said, imagine marrying that girl, we should have some pretty interesting and strong kids".
"You only want to marry to please mother," Oven reproached him, "however, I don't deny it. For a small body she has a supernatural strength." He sat down on one of the benches in the room.
"That's why mother trusts us."
"But that brat hasn't had breakfast with our family."
"Mother didn't bother him at all," Cracker spoke, standing next to his brother Katakuri while looking at Daifuku, "and it's very strange about her.
"She knows perfectly well that if she wants this girl to marry one of us, she has to do everything possible to make her comfortable." Katakuri crossed his arms giving his opinion to his brothers.
"As you always hit the nail on the head in everything, Katakuri."
"She's our mother, we should know what she looks like by now."
"And that's why you came, Perospero, to ask us if we have a strategy yet," Oven asked, already getting on our nerves in this conversation.
"I came to look for her." This surprised the triplets. "That's why I came with Cracker to look for the girl. From what I heard, she came out of her room fresh from breakfast and I don't know where she is."
"Lost." The Cookie Man was actually quite amused by the whole thing.
------------------
"This is huge!"
And indeed that's what Cracker said, young Len was more lost than a whale that was home. It wasn't that she had a loss of orientation but, as this was new to her, it was very easy to get lost. Big Mom should have given her a guide to know where the toilets were in case she had a pretty big emergency.
Or when she got an appetite. That makes her feel bad if she doesn't eat. That's why I preferred to know the places of one, before it's too late for anyone to put in the middle. But it was a huge castle with too many rooms! This was too much for Len! Although she realizes one thing: the castle was made of candy. In case of emergency she could break a piece and then the soldiers would take care of it. And she didn't care if that woman killed her for such a thing.
Oh, she remembered. She was here because of Lurke and now she had to marry one of her five children. While she walks around to see if there was an interesting room, she thinks and remembers the aspects of those children.
Charlotte Perospero. She didn't like him for a good reason: he has wrinkles and also has a long tongue. You could see that she likes sweets because of the cane, but she was not her type. Besides, she does not want to imagine what she could do with her tongue. A chill ran through his whole body.
Charlotte Daifuku. He had a body that was disproportionate to his taste. Besides, he was shaved and that look seemed to rape you at any moment.
Charlotte Oven. Another one with a disproportionate body especially his arms that seemed to only train them. And his hair... For God's sake! She didn't like her hairstyle at all. If I was her I would shave it off without thinking.
Charlotte Cracker. He seemed cute, besides the scar that ran down his face makes him a bit attractive. However, she heard that he possessed a Devil's Fruit where he invoked like a biscuit puppet. Even then he considered him to be a wimp, even though he was well endowed.
And Charlotte Katakuri. A very tall man, quite tall. Perfect body, tattoo that ran all over the commander's belly and chest. Serious look, she would even say that he was the most serious of the five. Maroon eyes and hair. A bit mysterious, especially with that scarf. Was he always cold and covering it up? She would say that he was the most normal.
"Katakuri ...," she says her name quietly without anyone listening.
Besides, looking at his height he thought that maybe he was the strongest of them all and that maybe it would be interesting to fight with him. She crossed her arms in a pensive way with her head raised looking at the ceiling. He and she would make a great couple, but the difference in age and height is abysmal. She was a normal size human, but he ... he was too tall!
However, all that went away when she heard a door open and saw some children coming out of it with books in their hands. They were Linlin's little children, and it wasn't the only thing that came out, there was also a big man... full of whipped cream all over his face?
"Children, don't tear up the books, please-fa!" cried the man as he watched the little ones disappear from his sight. "Mum, he'll kill me if you break them," he sighed heavily and turned his head slightly to find Len looking at him curiously. "... Oh, it's you-fa!" he shouted in surprise almost leaving the young woman deaf.
"Why do you all have the habit of shouting at me?!"
"I'm s-sorry-fa..."
"And you have a very strange way of talking."
"It's not my fault I have this habit-fa." That man was getting nervous.
"Is it a verbal tic?" asked Len raising her eyebrow.
"I guess-fa..."
Len was not going to discriminate against him for doing such a thing, as she has met people with that problem and saw it as something normal in life. Her eyes were fixed on the big door that was being covered by that man's big back. With determination and curiosity, she approached the place. The whipped cream man was just looking at nothing, however, when he saw that the girl was not there, he turned around and found her looking at all the books in the library.
"Please don't damage any book-fa!"
"What's your name?" asked Len as she approached the bookshelf.
"Opera. Charlotte Opera-fa," replied the man who was shaking with fear.
"Opera, may I stay here?" She picked up a book by looking at the flap. "I like to read and I want to spend my time here until it's lunchtime."
"... Of course Len-chan!"
The young woman smiled at the word. How she loved that someone didn't deny her a place where she felt comfortable. Now to devote all that time to reading.
Not far from there, it was possible to hear footsteps in the distance as if they were looking for something. And clearly, yes. Big Mom's children started looking for young Len who knows where they are. They had already passed by her room to see if she was there, but there was no sign of life. Had she left the castle? It was impossible because the soldiers would have already sounded the alarm. She wasn't even in the kitchen. Man, they had a habit of going to the kitchen to get some food, so they went there and nothing.
Daifuku's face already showed that he was getting fed up with this kind of game. It was absurd, they will never find the girl, he thought from time to time. The others were too quiet, they just had to be patient. Although it's really been about an hour since they set out on their quest throughout the castle.
They decided to take a short break and think very hard about where she would really be. Katakuri walked away from that group wanting to think alone. She was a young girl with a lot of energy. Where would she go? To the training room? Impossible because that's where she was and I don't think she's there. In the toilets? No, because she had her own bathroom. Did she leave the castle? It was possible, but looking for the exit would take hours.
His ears were pricked up by the sound of small steps running in his direction. He turned his head a little and found little Dolce and Dragée holding a book in their hands. Wait a minute, what if she is in the library?
"Good morning, big brother!" the twins shouted, calling the attention of the others.
"Good morning, boys," greeted Katakuri, matching up with his brothers, "can you help me to find a certain person?
"Sure, brother!"
"Have you seen Hirawashi Len by any chance? When he said his name, the eyes of the little ones lit up.
"The strongest girl in Grand Line?!" Katakuri nodded. "We saw her by the library, maybe she's reading a book."
"Thank you," he thanked, watching the twins leave.
"Library? She must be a boring girl," said Oven, not liking the idea of going there.
"Oh, come on, it will only take a moment," rebuked Perospero, starting to walk to the library with his brothers.
Actually, they were next to the book room. When they were young they spent time there playing and reading, discovering new words and ways of living life. And if anyone did any damage to the library, Charlotte Linlin would make sure they had a good time.
In a while, they were already in front of the big room so Perospero, decisively, opened the doors and felt his brother Opera's gaze on him.
"Perospero-fa!"
"Hello, little brother," he greeted as he entered with the others.
"Are you coming to take a book?" he asked nervously, he had great respect for his older brother.
"No, I'm here because certain little birds have told me that the new tenant is in this room. Is that true?" Opera nodded sharply at what Perospero smiled broadly. "And where is she? Because I don't see her."
Opera doesn't say a word, he simply said with his finger up, as if to say that the young lady was upstairs. That shows confusion in the candy man who was getting irritated. Opera, getting even more nervous, pointed to the staircase there to climb up one of the shelves and pick up books.
Katakuri, following the elevation of the stairs, found the young woman standing on the wood reading a book. She was at a fairly high height. From the height, where they are, anyone would notice any detail about her. And really, it was like that, because the young woman, as usual, had her skirt on and was exposing her panties. Katakuri raised her eyebrow thinking that if that girl wasn't ashamed to do that kind of thing
"I don't look at her for that reason," confessed Opera, turning redder than usual.
"What an interesting girl," laughed Cracker.
"Miss! We finally found you!" cried Perospero, trying to get the young woman's attention. "I thought you were lost all over the castle and I didn't expect to find you in this place."
However, Len was so focused on reading that she did not listen. It was as if a bubble had been created in her head to reduce the noise around her. Books were her undoing and more so when it came to mysterious novels or ships sailing to find great treasures.
And the most interesting thing was that, as she was fond of reading, she finished one book in ten to get the next one. Let's say that she not only trained her body to lift abysmal weights, but also her eyes to read faster and get more information. And that was bad? On the contrary, it highlighted that her brain worked harder and made her smart.
Katakuri noticed that the young woman was so focused on reading that she would leave one book, take another and so on. Was reading her hobby? He tilted his head, curious and looked at his brother Opera.
"How many books have you read?"
"Since he got here...," he started counting on his fingers not to lose count, "fifty books in forty minutes."
"Fifty books?!" Oven and Daifuku shouted without believing it.
"Oh, my, our future wife loves to read," said Perospero, feeling a drop run down his temple.
"Why do I get the feeling that, apart from being strong, she is intelligent? A twitch appeared in Cracker's eye, impressed by the young woman's reading ability.
"Miss! Wouldn't you like to put books aside and focus for a moment on your future husbands?" Perospero asked, but to no avail.
"Brat! Get the hell down!" shouted Daifuku, losing his patience, but without waiting, he was hit by one of Len's books. She heard it and did that to shut him up?
"That's what you get for calling her that!" laughed Oven as he watched a small lump appear on his brother. But he got the same tip. "You little brat! Come down and fight!"
"I'll bet she'd give you the thrashing of her life," laughed Cracker, receiving a murderous look from Oven.
"Miss, I'm asking you nicely." He was begging Perospero, already feeling a vein appear on his temple. "You brat... Katakuri tell her something!"
The oldest of all orders the second male to do something. Yell at her, stretch her body to get her out of here ... he has to do something to get the girl to show some attention! Does he really always have to get them out of it? The maroon eyes of the commander fixed on the body of the young woman, who was still up there.
It would really be difficult to get someone like that out. It was like when it was his snack time and he didn't like anyone bothering him. Katakuri's footsteps were present as he approached the staircase and kept looking at Len. He cleared his throat a little, ready to make some kind of speech.
"Hirawashi Len," he said her name completely, where the young woman stopped on a page hearing how someone was calling her, "my brothers and I want you to come with us so that you can know us better and see our tastes, and if any of us are the right one to be your husband."
Len turned her body a little to look down and see Katakuri's face. Did he ask her nicely? I thought he was going to be rude to her, but it seemed not to. She listened perfectly to the conversation that took place between the brothers to make her short, but he asked in a way that she liked very much. Decidedly, she closed the book suddenly to put it on the shelf.
Katakuri couldn't believe his eyes. Is she listening to him? It seems that he hit the nail on the head if he spoke to her like that. But one laugh was heard in the room, and it was Cracker who couldn't stop laughing.
"A little kindness and you decide to come down? I thought I was a prouder woman and..." He didn't finish the sentence because he felt someone fall on him and leave him on the floor knocked out by the position.
Len was the cause of that little accident. She jumped from the top and stood on top of it causing it to fall. For a short girl she knew exactly where she had to nail. However, the position was not a pleasant one. Cracker on the floor, she sat on her chest with her legs spread out showing her underwear.
Any man had a chance anyway and the commander was getting nervous having the young woman on top of him and more in that position. He neither moves nor breathes. It was as if an elephant had burst on him. Even his brothers less Katakuri were impressed by that.
"Watch your mouth, charlatan," Len warned, crossing her arms and looking at the boy with a serious look on her face, "your brother has been able to convince me and you are just laughing like an idiot." This made Oven ya Daifuku laugh and try to contain the laughter. "If you really wanted me to come down, just ask me nicely and not like the idiot and old Perospero and your grumpy twin brothers."
"Did you call me old?"
"Grumpy?"
The eldest of the triplets, although he couldn't see himself behind the scarf, smiled at every taunt the young woman made of his brothers. She didn't even cut her hair to tell the truth. It can be seen that she was sincere and when things bothered her she said so.
Len, on the other hand, stood up and carefully arranged her skirt as he let Cracker sit and look at the young man very badly, for leaving him so vulnerable at that moment. The young woman only stuck out her tongue in annoyance, something that irritated the young man of the brothers very much.
"You are all rude," says the young woman, addressing the door about to leave, "none of you have the right to know me and be my husband because that is what you are, rude and mama's children." She knows perfectly well that it was a great inconvenience for Charlotte's children to make fun of them and especially of their mother. "However ...," Len stared at Katakuri, who was just leaning against the wall watching the scene with amusement, "Katakuri, could you be kind and be my guide in this gigantic castle?"
Each and every one of those present looked at the mentioned one who was only looking at the young woman. Did she want him to be her guide? Because of his kindness? It was clear that this young woman had super strange tastes. But if she wanted to fulfill her mother's wish, he would do it. He separated his back from the wall and then walked towards her and left, not before seeing that the young woman only looked at him impressed by his size.
They say nothing. They just stared at each other, as if it was enough to say things to each other. Len was impressed by the size of this one. Her head was below the knee of her eldest. A twitch in her eye appeared and she lifted her head to face him and say something to him.
"Are you going to keep growing?"
"I don't know, I guess," Katakuri says honestly, bowing his head a little, but he noticed one thing. Was she looking at him or something else?
"Stop staring at my brother's crotch, you pervert!" Oven shouted, noticing that.
"It's not my fault that I'm too tall and my head is stuck there and I'm imagining things I'm not supposed to!
"Anyway," Katakuri broke up the conversation, standing next to him, "let's go before I leave you behind."
Len turned on her heels, noticing her cheeks turning like volcanoes about to erupt because of Oven's comment. Will it always be like this? The relationship between Katakuri and Len was about to begin.
-----------x-----------
Chapter II.
Chapter IV.
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crushonwoo · 3 years ago
Text
Darling
pairing : junhui x fem!reader genre : actor au, series, fluff, smut warnings : size kink, cream pie, unprotected sex, praise kink, sub!jun, softdom!reader, slight indication of pain kink, choking, cockwarming summary :your best friend minghao attempted to throw you a surprise party for your 21st birthday and you finally meet his twelve best friends. a/n : I was supposed to post this on jun’s bday but got to lazy oops.  ALSO TEXTS IN BOLD IS JUN SPEAKING MANDARIN  teaser | one
A package was thrown at a distracted Junhui. “You got a package.” Was all Seungcheol said before he left the room to deliver the remaining mail to the other members. Jun is thrilled by this since the only package he has been expecting is the script and schedule for his upcoming movie.
Being the great friend he is goes to find Vernon since he knew he would want to be a part of this. He finds him in the living room with Wonwoo. “I got the Darling You script.” Jun announced and gained the attention of both of them.
“Wait, you’re gonna be in the movie?” Wonwoo asked shocked that he now just found out that his friend will be in a movie about his favorite book.
Junhui just nodded and opens the package and took out the script and began to skim through it with Vernon doing the same from beside him. Every now and then he’d ask Vernon for some help regarding the definition on some of the words. Jun eventually handed the script over to Vernon to look over. The actor grabbed his schedule and was pleased that the director was able to work around the tour schedule.
“No way!” Vernon had shouted gaining Jun’s attention. “You have a sex scene!” Junhui quickly looked down at the script.
Sure enough there it was. Jun’s character has sex with y/n’s character. “Oh god I forgot about that, I didn’t think I’d get the part so I just signed it anyways!” Jun began to panic at the thought of having cameras film him in an extremely intimate act. “Do you think they’d get a stunt double if I asked?” Of course Junhui knew that he wouldn’t be completely exposed in front of a camera he was still terrified at the thought of pretending to have sex with his coworker in front of so many people.
Vernon laughed at Jun. “I’ll do it!” He eagerly shouted, he’d love any opportunity he could get to being close to y/n. “We all know that carats are going to love you after this movie! They will probably hate y/n though.” Vernon couldn’t help but to voice out his thoughts which only scared Jun more.
“Oh god I’m going to have to see y/n naked!”
“Are you seriously complaining right now?” Vernon’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Oh right I forget you’re a virgin.” His voice was barley above a whisper as if he was telling a secret.
It was Jun’s turn to gasp in shock. “No I’m not stop saying that!” He then hits Vernon’s head.
“Well fucking one person twice doesn’t really count especially if you couldn’t make her cum.”
His face heated up with embarrassment and anger so Jun turns his entire body to face Vernon ready to attack him for his blunt words. Wonwoo being completely quiet until now only chuckles at his friends and takes out his phone to record the two to show the rest of the group later.
It’s a bittersweet moment for Jun when the tour finally came to an end. Bitter because he finished touring and won’t be seeing his friends so often. Sweet because he is about to go to LA with Joshua for a movie he gets to play a lead role in. Of course Jun had left all his packing until the night before his flight leaving Joshua to scold him for causing him to stress out about the situation. “Jun, why were you packing bed sheets?” Joshua continued to question the actor regarding his packing. “I told you we can buy everything when we get there, we just need to take necessities.” He had commented as he pulled a flashlight out of Jun’s luggage. “Where do you think we’re going? You’ve already been to LA!” Jun only shrugged as he watched his older friend empty his entire suitcase. “We have to start all over.”
Honestly if it wasn’t for Joshua, Junhui would have missed his flight and missed the table reading he’s currently at waiting for his costar to arrive. She wasn’t late it’s just everyone decided to show up extremely early. Jun was scared of getting lost and being late so he too showed up a half hour early. Everyone was here and waiting patiently speaking amongst themselves. Jun felt like the odd one out, because everyone here has already worked with one another on other projects. So Jun is the new kid keeping to himself and pretending to be busy on his phone with his notes app open. 
“Hello everyone!” Your sweet voice interrupted Jun’s typing. “I decided to buy some treats from my favorite bakery for everyone as a celebration to our first table reading.” Your hands were full of boxes and you began to struggle with closing the door.
Before Jun could react and put his chivalry into action, four different sets of hands rushed to remove all the boxes from your grip. “Y/n you didn’t have to!” The director spoke as he got up from his seat and hugged Jun’s costar.
Seeing you in photos and seeing you in person is completely different experience. Jun can understand why everyone (Vernon) was obsessed with you, but in person Jun could see it for an entirely different reason. Especially as you took your time greeting every single person in the room. You were kind and overflowing with confidence with each conversation that you have tailored to every individual person. You stood before Jun with a shy smile the complete opposite of what he witnessed from your previous conversations. “Hi, I’m y/n. I’m really excited to get to know you Jun.” She stuck her hand out for Jun to shake, which he did, he even sent her his very own shy smile. “Sorry I looked you up as soon as the cast came out.” Jun noticed how your nose scrunched up in embarrassment from the information you told him.
“Oh, um that’s okay, I looked you up too.” Which is only half a lie because Vernon just gave him a lecture about who you were and showed your Instagram page. Which made Vernon jealous once he saw that you had followed him. Of course Jun followed you back and his fans without hesitation voiced out their opinions on it and began to speculate. “My friend is kind of in love with you.” Jun blurted out not knowing how else to go on with the conversation.
And you giggled, amused with the random information. “Oh really, is he in your band?” You carried on the conversation before taking a seat right next to Jun as everyone helped themselves to some of the tasty bread.
Jun nodded. “His name is Vernon, he’s from New York.” Jun could not stop the word vomit. Vernon is going to murder him when he arrives on set. “He’s a rapper in the group, I’m part of the performance unit.” He continues and grows even more embarrassed. Your genuine smile had only encouraged him to keep going.
Before you had a chance to comment the director had decided to start the meeting. Going over the schedule of when they’re going to be filming certain scenes. Jun began to fidget in his seat when they informed everyone that one of the sex scenes is going to be filmed at the end of this week. That was not enough time for Jun to mentally prepare for that. They went over the schedule quickly and moved onto the script. The entire cast read their lines and the writers would make adjustments. It was a good script and Jun felt so lucky to be a part of this.
The two of you had created the type of relationship that every director dreamed of their two costars having. It was all thanks to you of course. Since you made it a habit of inviting Jun out to the city to show him all your favorite restaurants, even inviting Joshua to ensure Jun was comfortable. You would even invite him to your place to go over scenes you would be filming the next day. Like right now, only you both got distracted and went to target only to stumble upon the album section. Jun had pointed out his album. You both had a few hours to kill before needing to be on set so of course you bought it. Which is how you ended up live on your Instagram to do an unboxing. “Jun they're asking which version this is.” You nudged his shoulder wanting him too answer since you didn't know.
“It’s the carat version.” He answered in English since most of the viewers were your fans. Jun tried to respond to the comments as best as he could but they were popping up so fast that he wouldn't be able to finish reading the sentence. 
“Ooooo, Jun you look so good on the cover.” You showed the cover to the camera even as going as far as putting your hand behind the album. Jun could only chuckle and brushed off the compliment. He watched you put the album down and moved on to the photo cards. “Aww, I didn't get you. Who are these people? They’re really cute.” Again you showed the camera the cards.
Without hesitation Jun answered your question. “They aren’t too important they're just staff.” You raised your eyebrows at him not believing him at all. “Its a way for us to say thanks for their hard work.” He lied easily which you giggled knowing he was lying since the comments were telling you. “Besides you're an ot1 fan, it means you only like one group.”
“Who are these men.” You held them to the camera and you read the comments. “Hoshi, Scoups, Jeonghan, and Vernon, hey isn't Vernon the one you said has a crush on me?” His eyes widen knowing that Vernon will definitely get back at him for telling you about his crush on you.
Jun quickly ended your live. “Y/n that was supposed to be a secret!” You just laughed as you started to open the pack of just his cards.
“I feel like I'm collecting Pokemon cards like in middle school.” You stated as you looked at every single card. “This one is my favorite, you have a really cute smile.” Jun noticed how you always complimented him, at least ten times a day and it always got him getting shy and growing red. 
Jun liked the attention from you, maybe a little too much since his dick would twitch after every single one. “Our fans usually put their favorite one behind their phone cases.” 
You grabbed your phone. “Guess, I gotta buy a clear phone case to show you off.” Jun didn't think as he gave you his clear phone case and handed it to you. “You’re so sweet Jun, here we can trade.” You handed him your white phone case and you centered his photo card and put your phone in the case. “Look it's so cute!” You showed him and he smiled liking the thought of you taking his photo everywhere with you. 
“Oh no.” His group chat was blowing up. He always muted the chat whenever he was with you but the amount of messages that kept showing was alarming and he knew the boys have heard about the live.
sol : ur dead to me
sol : unsubscribed from our friendship
sol : I am now a jun anti
scoups : LMFAO SINCE WHEN DID I GET DEMOTED
hosh : honestly I didn't expect you to break my heart jun I expected more from you
wonu : what did I miss ?
hao : ???
han : okay but which one of us did she call cute
sol : yeah tell us 
shua : @ hao and wonwoo Jun went live with y/n and called scoups, soonyoung, Vernon, and jeonghan staff, then y/n revealed that jun told her about Vernon’s crush on her
hosh : don't forget about how he told her she's an ot1 
jun : I can explain
jun : shes my friend not yours = ot1
jun : she called me cute bc she's an ot1 so stop
gyu : do you like her ?
jihoon : he definitely likes her
sol : honestly don't blame you but ouch im sad
jun : no comment
jun : im busy leave me alone
wonu : busy rehearsing those sex scene aren't you ;)
hosh : I forgive you GET IT JUN
gyu : I WILL ALWAYS SUPPORT JUNHOE
hao : that's bc ur the ultimate man whore
deekay : Vernon look away
kwan : CHAN LOOK AWAy
dino : and i oop
sol : heart been broke too many times
scoups : just us a condom ?
“What's going on? Are your friends mad?” You peaked at his phone but he wasn't worried since the texts were in a different language. Jun just shook his head no. “Good, come on we gotta go.” The walk to the set Jun felt his nerves bubble up from his stomach and spread to his throat. Today was that scene. “See you in there.” You smiled and waved before you went towards your trailer and he went to his. 
Jun couldn’t help but to question if you were feeling as nervous as he was about having to film a sex scene with someone you had met the beginning of this week. It was basically soft porn. He knew this would also be your first time filming this type of scene from a conversation you had a couple days ago so that information helped him feel a little better. He changed into the skin toned briefs needed for the scene and threw on the robe before walking to set to get his makeup done. You sat in the chair next to him in a robe similar to his. The type you'd get at a luxury hotel, white and fluffy. You didn't see him since you had your eyes closed and lips puckered as your makeup artists worked on you. 
He sat patiently in the chair as his own hair and makeup artist worked on getting him camera ready. You finished earlier than him so you waited and chatted with his artists. “Im not lying I swear!” He wasn't really paying much attention to the conversation since he was so worried about touching you the wrong way or doing something wrong in front of so many people. “I don't know how to do my own makeup, well just the basics, I can't even put on fake lashes or do eyeshadow.” Your laughter got his attention, he always thought you were the prettiest when laughing. All it took was for Jun to have an outing with you once to be wrapped around your finger. 
“You’re all set Jun.” You smiled and got up with Jun and walked with him to set after he had thanked both the ladies.
You both met up with the director who wanted to go over the scene before they started filming. “Remember it’s supposed to be hot, fast, and rough.” He had said ending the small huddle. “And lots of passion!” He shouted as you both walked to your chairs to drop the robes.
Jun wasn’t insecure of his body and never has been, he was however scared of what you would think of him. It was almost unspoken how you both turned your backs to each other to drop the robes. You were also extremely nervous and slightly terrified since this would be the first time you'd be dressed in something so little in root of an entire movie se filled with cast and crew members. You were just amazing at acting like you were the most confident person alive. It was silent as you both turned towards each other to walk on set to start filming the sex scene. 
There was no hiding the fact that it was extremely awkward as you both got into position against the wall. Jun’s hand pressed against the wall next to your head as his other hand grabbed your leg to wrap around him. He refused to look down at your body knowing that as soon as he loses eye contact he would get hard and possibly ruin everything. He just couldn't risk that. “Action!” The director shouted and a second later your lips met for the first time and Jun had to force himself to not enjoy how soft and plump your lips felt against his. 
He knew he fucked up as soon as he pushed himself deeper between your legs and felt your cunt against his dick. The thin clothing on both of you didn’t leave anything to the imagination. He knew it was only a matter of time until he grew embarrassingly hard from just grinding alone. Your hands were everywhere rushing to grab any part of his body you could to show the camera how eager you were for him. It wasn't until you let out a fake moan followed by an out of breath I love you when he jerked away from you and rushed off set apologizing to everyone as he yanked his robe back on and left the building. 
Joshua rose from the couch at the sound of the front door. “You’re back already?” He questioned Jun’s appearance. Body still covered in the robe and slippers. He watched him pace back and forth. “Is everything okay Junhui?”
“I messed up.” He admitted as soon as he realized he had actually ran away from filming. “Oh my god I’m going to get fired.” He began to panic which led to the older one to join him.
“Jun what happened?”
“I don't know, she said she loved me and I got hard and so I ran away!”
“So? Thats her job, to act out the script!” Joshua shouted in disbelief. “She will probably forgive you for abandoning her and leaving her alone in front of everyone in little to no clothing right?”
Jun’s eyes widen at the realization. “Oh god, I’m an asshole. Can you take me to her place so I can apologize?” The guilt set in and Jun could only hope that his actions didn't effect you.
Joshua being the good friend he is nodded. “Just maybe change and look presentable?” He teased his younger friend who agreed and went to go change. “Call me when you want me to pick you up.” Jun thanked Joshua for the ride before shutting the door and walking up your driveway. He had no idea what to say. Sorry, you got me really hard when you said you loved me and so I was about to cum in my pants. Definitely not that.
He knocked and waited patiently for you to answer your door which didn't take long. “Well fuck me.” Jun muttered under his breath when his eyes landed on you with wet hair and a silk pink robe. Clearly just finished having a shower. “Sorry, I just wanted to apologize about today, if you're busy I can come over later.” Jun went to walk away before you grabbed his wrist tugging him inside your home.
“Jun, you’re so dramatic. I’m not busy, now tell me what happened today.” Your voice was sweet which only added to his guilt knowing you didn't deserve what he made you go through today.
He let out a sigh as you led him to the living room. “You know I have never filmed anything like that.” You nodded remembering the conversation. “Well a certain body part was enjoying it a lot more than it was supposed to and I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable.” He admitted not making eye contact and refusing to take a seat on the sofa. “I’m also sorry for running away, I was embarrassed and didn't want anyone to see.” 
“Junnie, its okay, it happens.” You walked up to him and held his cheek in your palm. “It was my first time filming something like that too, hell I also got a little excited.” Jun felt hypnotized, from your soft touches to the way you’re looking up at him. “Maybe we should practice.” You offered which led to your other hand pressing against his chest and slowing going down to his abs and staying there waiting for him to say anything. “Do you want to practice Junnie?” 
“I’m not . . . good.” 
He felt embarrassed as he spoke out his insecurity to you, scared to receive a negative reaction from you. “That’s okay, I’ll help you Junnie.” The nickname you rarely use and your gentle tone is his undoing. 
Jun doesn't think as he rushes his lips to greet yours in a soft kiss. You are addictive, and Jun cannot get enough. He feels your tongue swipe across his bottom lip. Everything about this kiss is soft and innocent, the complete opposite of what happened on set. Jun feels your hand lower from his stomach to palm his semi causing him to let out a small moan at the contact. Your tongue enters his mouth from the moan and your tongues explore each others mouths. Jun can't think feeling so overwhelmed with the sensual kissing and you caressing his cock. This time you moan into his mouth at the feeling of him growing harder in your open palm.
“Oh Junnie, you’re so big.” You whisper to him as his lips leaves yours so he can rest his forehead against yours to watch you palm him through his sweatpants. He felt so thick and large in your small hand and you looked forward to the feeling of his cock stretching you out. Jun couldn't help but to thrust against your hand at your words. “Do that again.” You removed your hand to wrap a leg around his waist to feel his girth against your barley clothed crotch.
Jun watched as your pink silk robe revealed your white lace panties. He grasped your thigh to help you have balance before he did what he was told to do. “Fuck.” He whispered as you moaned into his shoulder. Breath almost as warm as your pussy. He continued to grind himself onto you, position similar to earlier on set. He wasn’t sure if the wet spot on his sweatpants were from you or him, he didn't care everything felt so amazing.
Your plump lips attached onto his jaw and trailed open kisses until you reached where his jaw connected to his throat, right below his ear, you gently sucked and licked. All while continuing to moan directly into his ear. His other hand wondered to hold onto your waist, his thumb rubbing the skin directly under your breast. You weren't wearing a bra. “So hot when you speak mandarin.” You tell him right before you lick a stripe from the base of his neck up to his ear before softly biting his lope. Jun’s hips faulted at the new feeling. “Junnie please fuck me against this wall.” You have never been known for being patient especially in a situation like this.
“Whatever you want y/n.” Jun’s voice a lot deeper than usual as your greedy hands goes to remove his shirt, him still holding most of your weight against him and the wall. His shirt is removed so he goes to untie the robe, but leaves it on, Jun quickly attaches his mouth to your bare nipple. He bites and sucks for a moment before he parts. “Hold on baby.” You attach your arms around his neck and both legs wrap around his waist as his hand push his pants low enough to free his achingly hard cock and kick the rest of his pants off. Jun pushes you back against the wall tugs onto you flimsy panties with enough force to rip it apart so he can rub his pink tip to your entrance.
Your juices spread onto his tip and your head falls back and hits the wall with a soft thud. “Put your fat cock in me Junhui, please fuck me.” You moaned out as you pulled his hair. He eased the head of his cock into you. “Such a good boy for me Junnie.” You were breathless as he continued to lower your pussy onto him. He stretched you out so much that it caused a fiery pain that was pleasurable for you. “You feel so good in me, keep going baby.” Jun loved your praises as well as the new pet name.
He continued to softly thrust in and out of you at a slow pace both of you enjoying the feeling of each other. “So fucking beautiful.” Jun grunted as he watched his cock disappear into you just before coming out glistening in your wetness. “So tight and warm.” You felt so full and deliciously stretched out every time his hips met yours forcefully. The sound of squelching and the feeling of his veiny cock rubbing against your inner walls had you moaning for more. The power behind the thrusts had your eyes water from the overwhelming amount of pleasure you felt.
You wanted to feel more of him so you eased one leg onto the ground for him to try a new angle. “I love the way you feel inside me baby.” Jun wanted wanted to please you in any way you wanted as long as he would get another praise from you. You grabbed one of his hands and led it to your lifted leg for him to hold and squeeze at your thigh. Then you grabbed his other hand and led it to hold your neck. “Squeeze baby.” Jun would do anything you'd ask of him, so he squeezed the sides of your throat like you asked and stared into your eyes as he did so. His cock twitching inside you at the sight of your mouth open with silent moans and your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. The pleasure he is causing you. “Right there Junnie, like that keep going I’m gonna cum.”
He nodded against your forehead eyes staring deeply into each other. “Please let me cum inside you baby.” He begged however it was like you understood his words since you nodded and moaned against his lips before sealing them in another wet kiss. Your fingers toyed with your clit moving at a faster pace than his thrust feeling the tight knot forming wanting to come undone. Jun bit onto your bottom lip as his cock twitched for the last time before his cum shot into you. He continued to fuck his hot seed into you moaning as he bit your lip hard enough to draw blood. The pain causing you to reach your own climax. “Fuck you’re so good to me.” Jun continued to thrust into you fucking you through your orgasm and firmly held onto your neck squeezing in sync with every thrust. “So good to me.” He whined into your ear as his thrust slowed to a stop as his cock grew soft.
Before you could say anything he lifted you into his arms staying inside of you. He carried you to your obnoxiously large mattress wanting nothing more than to have you sleep in his arms with his cock still buried deep inside you. It was a new feeling for him and he was addicted. “You were such a good boy Junnie, made me feel so good.” You sighed as you rested your head against his chest letting your eyes fall shut. Jun felt a flutter of pride knowing that he made you feel good. He laid on his back with you laying on top of him. Your weight lulling him to a sleep.
next
463 notes · View notes
soft-boi-eli · 3 years ago
Note
Hello Hello!
I just wanted to say I love your fics!
ALSO!
Could I request a CC!SBI X Gn! Insomniac Reader! Where the reader is an insomniac (Obviously-) but is somehow a pro at MC!
Like they are basically god at the game! They also REALLY enjoy horror games! They don’t get scared easily and LOVE horror movies! They basically love anything horror/creepy-
ANYWAYS!!
The reader lives off of ramen and Monster energy drinks (For fun-)! They have a Twitch (Which has about 18 mil followers and 14 mil subs!) and a YouTube channel (Which has 20 mil followers!)
They mainly play horror games (Obviously-) and MC!
You can do headcanons or scenarios/images with the SBI! Maybe like playing a horror game together or MC? OR! Maybe some things they do together? Or when they meet up? Or-to many ideas Nightmare-
ANYWAYS!
I don’t really care! And don’t worry about taking too long on it!
ALSO!
Maybe we could be friends? Only if you want too!
Remember to eat, drink, and get enough sleep!
<3
Yes. I lovesthese ideas and I'm gonna choose headcannons due to they are a bit easierfor me to write.
And yes I'm perfectly fine with being your friend! I'm actually happy to make friends on this app so yeah!
Pronouns:nonbinary
Tw: cussing. Insomia, mentions of horror movies. Mention of horror games. Fluff.
SBI with a horror streamer friend head cannons.
*Ahem* tommy wanted to paly a game with you so you choose a game that didn't look like horror until the middle. He screamed at the jump scare and it made both of your chats so happy.
When phil decides to play with you there is literally a silence after a jump scare. Everyone thought he had a heart attack and honestly so did you until he spoke up about accidently hitting his mute button when he jumped.
Wilbur. He's a bit better then tommy but more scared then phil would be. Any little noise won't get him but when it starts to get noticeable the noiseless to him. The jump scare, he'd fall out of his seat and stay on the ground for a bit. You ask if he's good and he literally doesn't answer. He's dead. You killed him. Congrats.
Techno. He'd handle them a bit better then everyone else. Not as good as you but heisnt very paranoid. He literally runs at the noises trying to get jumpscared. While you run after him telling him to stop because if he doesn't then you'd lose and die. And technoblade never dies.
If you all play together both tommy and wilbur pussy out. Techno last the longest and phil the second longest. While you remain the ruler of horror games.
Now how you all met was dream invited you to the dream smp to add to the chaos. Needless to say it got extremely chaotic due to you being on almost 24 hours. You first ran into techno. He seemed confused and skeptical.
You both found eachothers love for potatoes. You set up camp quote close to techno but not too close.
Phil popped in when he needed something for a build and noticed a new name. Talked to you in chat and asked to join your VC. You both found each other talking for a bit.
Wilbur was next. Wilbur got curious over the new person and just hoppedinto the same VC as you techno and phil. He was quick to realize that you were a famous youtuber. Mainly for your horror videos and your extreme Parkcore skills.
In minecraft that is.
Tommy noticing that all of you were in the same VC joined in with shouting. He was low key jealous that everyone was obsessed with you. Then he saw why.
You literally cracked jokes at his shouting.
"Is that an angry pomeranian? Nah nah. It's an angry child. Even better an angry blonde!" - you.
He was shocked and immediately started joking and laughing with you. He wasn't fully angry for long.
Now about your diet. When they heard that you had only eaten ramen and drank angry drinks they were concerned. You lived quite close to techno so when you guys met up he was shocked that you looked as healthy as you did.
He hated the fact that you literally didn't eat anything else.
You told him occasionally you have something other then ramen but you were just too lazy to really cook anything and that you didn't feel like burning the house down.
One month phil, tommy, wilbur, and techno decided to organize a month long sleep over so that they could celebrate your birthday. Phil being quote the father figure cooked different, but easy dinners every night just so you didn't eat only ramen that day.
When they actually arrived though you got a text from Phil asking about your address in your dms. Not think much of it you just sent him your location.
You were going to take a small nap. Just to bost your energy before you went and streamed later that night.
As you were sleeping there was a car heading to your house.
Phil, wilbur, tommy, and techno were all just existing in the car. And when they arrived to your house they didn't expect to actually see a clean house.
You woke to a loud knock.
When you opened the door in your half dazed state you expected a package. But to see four people standing on your porch.
You nearly jumped out of your skin.
You were stuck there blinking at them.
Finally snapping out of it you let them in. Confused on why in the ever loving fuck they were here.
Phil explained they were here to celebrate your 21st birthday and they were here for a month.
You stared at them for a while. Confused on what to do since you haven't had people over in almost 2 years.
But you got use to it.
So when you got done streaming and smelled something other then ramen you were thrown off guard. Like what was that. I haven't smelled that in years.
But after the second day you got use to it too.
For your birthday phil literally made a feast.
Like he found your favorite food other then ramen and cooked it. With that he prepared everything you could dream of.
Your sleeping habits. Let's dig into those.
I'm in no place to talk as right now it's 3:05 in the morning. And here I am.
But when they are over they don't let you stay up till no 3-4 in the morning. They all know the importance of sleep.
But there are those nights where no once can sleep and it results in a late night stream. And streaming for hours none the less.
The amount of accidental all nighters everyone has pulled was immense. But that's what happens with jet lag, adhd, and insomnia.
Literally you get tired randomly. Sleep for only 3 hours. Wake up. Drink coffee, energy drinks, highly caffeinated tea. And don't sleep till late at night.
Pillow forts.
It's a must and it happens. Horror movies, pillow forts, and snacks. Like you all are in this massive fort, watching horror movies, one by one you all are falling asleep. You and techno were the last up due to technos active mind and your body not letting you sleep.
You two literally just vide there, changing the movies from horror to some silly animated movies, like how to train your dragon, frozen, Luca, and many others.
You two pull an all nighter and it's actually a bet to see how long anyone else takes to notice.
You bet an hour. Techno says all day.
You won. Philza notices the worse eye bags under both you and technos eyes and immediately starts scolding.
He is papa bird and he won't let anyone of his children neglect their needs.
"Did you even drink water at all? You guys should of been sleeping not binge watching horror movies all night!" -philza
You could only offer a smirk, along with a laugh.
"I think we did I just can't fully remember. Also we were watching animated films. Not horror. Surprised you didn't wake up to let it go." - you.
You turn to techno.
"You owe me 15 bucks pig boy!"-you again.
Handing you the money he rolls his eyes. "Yeha yeah. Rub it in." -techno.
Ah yeah they found a horror game that you were scared of surprisingly. It was actually surprisingly you hadn't played it yet.
Outlast.
You had been holding off that game until you finished your other one but here you were. Bored out of your mind.
So you decided fuck it.
That game teriffed the shit out of you. It was so good though.
When you screamed they all came rushing up due to the fact that you never scream.
They say you out of your chair, on the floor, blinking. They thought you were hurt.
But you sat up and looked at your computer.
"Damn. That was actually really good." When you looked behind you and found the boys all staring you smiled and waved.
"You need something?"-you
"You screamed. We heard a thud. We thought you fuckin died!" -tommy.
"No I'm alive. My soul almost divorced my body but it's still quite here."-you
That day made highlights.
The popular y/n actually got jump scared. The one person who never screamed at horror games screamed.
When they left you were sad yes but they were still your best friends. Ready to talk when ever you want.
Sometimes I think that you guys talk all through out the night. Them forgetting that you were actually in a different time zone.
Sometimes they pop into your streams, be it MC, horror, you just talking to your fans, or even the once in the blue moon, cheerful games.
They just pop in and start talking to you. And you talk back like they were there since the beginning.
Phil is now one of your moderators too. Along with tommy, wilbur, and techno. When they pop in they make sure no one picks on you.
And since you are now close to the SBI. You are now part of it.
You didn't choose the fans did. But they are your new family. No matter what.
Even if they disagree with your eating habit.
Or energy drink addiction.
Or insomnia.
Or you mainly playing horror games.
Or you basically living in your streaming room.
Or even the nearly 24 hour streams.
I could go on but I'm not gonna.
I'm tired. But I can sleep. 2 days and I get to have a tour of my new school.
And it took so long to finally get into it.
We have been going through a huge hassle even before school started to get me enrolled.
And then we had to get me into this program.
But now on Monday I get to go in. Get a tour. Then start either Tuesday or Wednesday.
Anyway hope you liked. It's now 3:50 and it's no proof read I'm sorry
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leiriswhore · 3 years ago
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‘SATORU GOJO WITH A PREGNANT S/O’ HEADCANON
content warning: pregnancy, childbirth
pairings: gojo saturo x fem!reader
note: 🥲🥲🥲 guyssss, im thirsting for dad!gojo HELP. ANDDDD I DONT REALLY KNOW WHAT THE SHIT I DID AT THE END IM LAZY AF. I HOPE Y'ALL LIKE IT (´∩。• ᵕ •。∩`)
m.list
ya really think he would leave you after fucking you full of his cum and kncking you out 🤨
he’s so soft, he loves kissing your bump even though youre only 7 months ahead. he will finish his job soon, ‘cause he doesn’t want you to be alone, hidden from the people/curses that might hurt you and his baby munchkin. hearing your phone, popping up a notification, you see gojo’s message saying, “man… can’t wait to go home, i have a surprise for you, mommy!”
is very chaotic, sometimes turns on a music and starts dancing off and then when he sees you going in the bedroom (after hearing one of his favourite romantic songs). he sways and dances random movements to make you laugh, if you did, his heart burts and just kisses you passionately. he is so thankful for everything. he knew that the world you both live on is gruesome and he didnt want his child to grow up without a father so he takes his time to spend with you and his child.
he’s fun when it comes to buying baby clothes!! he has the money so he’ll do what he wants to spend it with. youre walking while eyeing on some cute clothes for your baby boy (i know we all see him having a boy), “my love!!” he shouts, you turning around, his hands full of baby clothes, you didnt notice that it was three or five minutes passed. he comes up to you, “its so cute!! i know our little mochi will love this!!” his eyes gleaming with adoration, you can see how excited he is on being a dad especially that youre the one carrying his baby. his one and only wife.
the first year’s reaction that you were pregnant was like “huh?!?!” and then nobara snapped; “how dare you do this to y/n?! she has her own feminine things to do!! how dare you disobey the feminists’ laws??!”. they were hysterical about it except megumi because he has always know you since gojo take care of him but he didn’t expect that gojo is literally having a child. he has so many problems now gojo have to add that 'cause he’s having a baby brother! and its gonna be his responsibility. he is lowkey screaming though. he does think that gojo will be a great dad based of course on his experience with gojo.
such a wonderful man you know? he loves his child and would never do something that will snap you. is it because of a thing called “pregnancy hormones”? yes. fluttering your eyes open, the first thing you see when you woke up today was gojo’s face. you groan, keeping his ugly (fucking beautiful) face 'cause you wanted to sleep more. “…babe! please??? just one!!” he says standing up, brows furrowed. you looked up to him, sighing. this will be a long day. besides that, let’s talk about your appetite. man… he’s frustrated when you wake him up from a good sleep only to ask him to prepare you or buy you an ice cream. it was only two in the morning??? but will surely obey you 'cause youre a queen and understands you. and he’ll gladly do it with his lazy body walking down the stairs like a child who has woken up by his mom to go to school.
tries to keep up with the house works! such a gentleman! phew, thank god you married a wealthy and an admirable man. he won’t let you do things that will tire you out. he do have maids to help out with you or keep you company whenever he’s not in the house. he lets the maids go with you for a walk if hes not there. he also celebrates each month!!
overall a very caring husband throughout your pregnancy. you’ll sometimes be laying on his chest and just whispering lovely and intimate words to him on how much you appreciate and adore this man. you did cry whenever you remember those very meaningful and memorable moments with him. if you love him, he loves you more. so much more that your heart will explode on how much love he has given you because you deserve it. youre carrying his little him. he couldn’t be more happy.
calling it bestofriendos or not. nanamin is proud of him. he doesnt respect gojo but respect the little gojo inside you. hes so lowkey happy for his bestfriend and actually agrees with gojo (for once) that he’ll be an uncle for his best friend’s child. about utahime…. girl- she’s disappointed to you. when you told her that you were pregnant with the albino man’s child, she couldn’t stop ranting how bad your life will be. “your fucking life is literally so hard when you agreed to be his girlfriend?! what kind of a person are you?! and now his child?! oh my god, y/n.” whilst shaking her head in disappointment. you just laughed 'cause you knew how much she hated that white haired man. and now, he hated him so fucking much. (but she’s excited to be an aunt too). for leiri, she’s your personal doctor to check up with you every month, making sure her bestie’s baby and wife is healthy. would say a lot of hacks about pregnancy!
when the time has come, he is there. yaga gave him three months to stop working 'cause yaga knew how gojo will be distracted whenever something happens to his wife and son. your man is advanced, he keeps a bag with your clothes and the baby.
you found out when you were getting ready to sleep when you felt your baby kicking, him rubbing your stomach, two of you thinking its just some random times when the baby kicks a lot but this is different, you’ve been contractions for about two to almost three hours, you didnt think that its the day but oh boy, you were so done when your pajama pants got wet, giving you a hint that your water just broke and gojo was in the bathroom, taking a shower. after hearing that you shouted to come out of the bathroom 'cause your water just broke? he’ll use his technique to quickly put his shirt and find where the bag is.
the two maids hurriedly helped him to pack and ensure that everything is perfect and steady (as he tries to calm himself) before heading out and help you soothe your contractions. you there, were breathing heavily, your forehead sweaty and legs going numb. after the nurses hasten their movements, you finally laid in a comfortable hospital bed. after hours of giving birth and gojo praising you that you did so good pushing your baby, the little boy finally entered the world.
reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated.
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lovetorn · 3 years ago
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dream’s birthday bash [roommate!dream au]
Roommate!Dream x Reader
summary: it’s dream’s birthdayyyy!!!
warnings: alcohol, swearing
w/c: 2.9k+
a/n: happy birthday dream!! i’m in love w this. i hope u are too. also, there is a few references to past roommate!dream blurbs & one-shots, so i recommend reading those before you start this one or you may be a little confused at some things the characters say. thanks!! <3
roommate!dream masterlist
Dream’s birthday is something you haven't experienced yet since you moved in together in September last year.
Dream had promised the football team that his birthday party was going to be the biggest of the year, so you, being the party planner, had vowed to make it the best because Dream can’t organise—he disagreed and said that he only made you the party planner because he knows you’re good at it?? You gave him a confused look; you’ve never planned a party before.
Anyway, the 12th was approaching quicker than you anticipated and the only things you’d organised so far is the alcohol (thanks to George) and decorations. You had little notes on your phone with multiple checklists and you had yet to tick every last box off.
Organising food was probably the hardest thing. You knew that there were going to be around 100+ people squeezing into your apartment, drinking, so food is essential. You asked Dream what types of food he wanted, his reply?
“Chicken wings, not spicy.”
You rolled your lips between your teeth and nodded. Great. “Anything else? There’s gonna be a lot of people, Dream.”
He brought his fingers to rest on his lips as he thought about it. You knew when he got an idea because then he clicked his fingers and pointed at you. “Sandwiches. You know, like the little ones?”
Squinting at him, you sighed. “You think that’s going to be enough for more than 100 people?”
Dream nods. “Easy.”
You shake your head in disbelief and add sandwiches, along with other finger foods, to the list. “Thanks.”
Next to organise was Dream’s present. You spent days racking your brain, trying to figure out what he would want, eventually coming up with nothing.
So, you asked Sapnap, who was no help. “Fuck if I know, the man buys anything he wants himself these days.”
You rolled your eyes and took a trip to Target. Whilst there, you decided on an excess of small gag gifts: a Ron Swanson dishwasher magnet (so you and Dream can stop arguing over who put dirty dishes in with the clean ones), an engraved bottle opener, a ‘do not disturb sign for his bedroom door (chosen based on one too many run-ins), a Minecraft ice cube tray, a toothbrush holder (so both of your toothbrushes stop touching in the cup), and a pack of Minecraft socks.
You put the small presents into a gift bag, covering them with tissue paper, and then put in the final piece that wasn’t a joke gift—a mixtape of your and Dream’s favourite songs for his car. You brushed your thumb over the plastic case and let out a breathy laugh at the photo on the front—a selfie of the two of you in Dream's car, energy drinks in your hands and toothy grins with the text, ‘Dream & Y/n’s Gr8est Hits’ written in bright pink marker. You're excited to give it to him, but you're nervous and embarrassed, too—is it lame?
You shook your head and placed the bag in your closet.
George delivered the alcohol earlier in the day: 18 cases of beer and the same in White Claw, and a few bottles of vodka and rum for the close friends. You couldn't thank him enough for helping you, even more so after he helped put the covered trays of food in the refrigerator from the delivery truck downstairs.
You had (reluctantly) asked Sapnap to organise music because you had no time in between making sure the food order was correct and getting yourself ready. He agreed immediately and waved off your hesitance and told you he'd make the best playlist to ever exist—you put too much trust in him.
Before the party, you and Dream had taken a few shots together, just to get you to stop stressing over the planning of the party and Dream to stop worrying for you.
"Ready?" Dream smirked, his shot glass hanging loosely from his fingers. You nodded and then, at the same time, tapped the glass on the counter before you threw the shot back. The acetone taste of the vodka slid down your throats and you made disgusted faces at each other before a knock at the door indicated that your first guests were here.
Now, the party is in full swing and it's safe to say, there is definitely enough food.
When you see Sapnap at the food table, aka the kitchen counter, he thanks you for ordering non-spicy wings. You shake your head, laugh, and hug him tightly. "I'm serious," He mumbles with chicken in his mouth. "These are so~ good!"
The living room is cramped, but nobody seems to be complaining. Almost everyone from the apartment block is in your flat right now, with a few from other complexes. You lost sight of Dream a few hours ago, choosing to stay with your own friends while he hangs with his as the two groups don't usually mingle together.
“Niki!” You laugh whilst the girl finishes her second shot and passes the bottle of rum back to you. Shaking your head, you bring the large bottle to your lips, already regretting mixing different alcohols. You’d already had a few White Claws, thanks to Sapnap who kept challenging you to shotguns at the start.
Karl comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist before he snatches the bottle out of your hand and takes a swig.
“Karl!” Now, all three of you are laughing together. He slides his hand off of your stomach and stands to his full height, putting his lips to the White Claw can he holds in his other hand. You warn him about mixing alcohol, but he waves you off and assures you that he's fine.
The three of you stand on the dance floor, grooving to the beat of 'Super Freak' by Rick James. You grab Karl's hand to spin him around and then do the same to Niki, laughter filling the small space you have created in the middle of the crowd. You wouldn't admit it to Sapnap, but his playlist is actually good.
"Mi Amor!" The sound of Quackity's voice pulls you from your little group with Niki and Karl and you smile when you see his wide grin as he pushes past a few football players.
"Q! When did you get here? I didn't see you come in," You engulf him in a hug and giggle when he laughs loudly.
"I came in through the window," You pull back slightly to give him an incredulous look and shake your head. God, you are tipsy. "Nahhh, I had an exam, so I just got here."
You nod and feel the rum going straight to your head. Quackity then notices Karl and Niki behind you and gives them hugs too. You watch as your friends greet each other and turn to look at the clock on the wall in the kitchen. 10:33 pm.
“Guys, it's time for cake!” You shout over the music to Niki, Quackity and Karl and they smile and nod, all three of you migrating to the fridge to collect Dream’s cake and get it ready.
You pull a 3 layered vanilla cake out of the refrigerator. It is slathered in white icing and has rainbow sprinkles on the top with the words, ‘happy birthday dream’, in piped icing. Karl's mouth waters at the sight of the dessert and when he goes to get a dollop of icing from the side, you don’t smack his hand away—you have a plan.
Other guests see you preparing the candles and lighting them and turn off the lights for you. You smile at the 21 lit candles and pick up the cake, being careful not to trip on anything.
The entire room starts singing the ‘Happy Birthday’ anthem, their phones out to film as you spot Dream’s messy blonde hair over the crowd. He scrunches his face up in embarrassment and switches his beer from his right hand to his left to give you a side hug and a peck on the cheek when you approach him. The room sings and all attention is on him, but Dream only has eyes for you as you inch the cake closer so he can blow out his candles.
After he does so, the room erupts into cheers and then you give Dream a mischievous grin. There’s a little fear in his eyes and you launch the cake towards his face. Everybody laughs and hollers when you pull the cake stand away from him to see his face covered in white icing and rainbow sprinkles. Dream stands frozen for a moment, wiping his eyes with his free hand, before he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close to him, rubbing the icing in your hair and on your cheek.
“Dream!” You cackle, trying to push him off, but failing and eventually succumbing to his hold. The phone torches shine brightly at the two of you as people continue filming. His laughter is music to your ears.
Dream smiles down at you, eyes lazy and cheeks flushed. “Thank you,” He whispers. Your heart flutters in your chest and butterflies swarm your stomach as you nod. Everybody disperses and carries on with their previous antics, leaving you and Dream together.
“I got you a present, I’ll give it to you when everybody’s gone.”
The sentence makes the present seem more sensual than it actually is, and it makes Dream’s heart skip a beat—but he knows it’s not what he’s thinking. You pull away from Dream and wave back at him, knocking into a few people which elicits a laugh from him as he watches.
“Dude, you’re so fucked,” George says, smirking as he follows Dream’s gaze on you. Dream elbows George in the bicep.
“Fuck off.”
“Yeah bro, if you don’t make a move soon, someone else will,” Sapnap comments, coming up to stand on Dream’s other side. The urge to punch the both of them is strong, but instead, the blonde groans and skulls the rest of his beer as he loses sight of you in the crowd.
“Bye, guys! Thanks for coming!” Dream tries his best to look composed, but he’s so drunk. As soon as the door closes, he locks it and lets out a huge sigh. You come out of your room with the gift bag in your hands. Dream raises his eyebrows and attempts to give you a surprised look. “Wow, a present?”
You giggle and lead him to the couch. He flops down, throws his feet up and puts his hands behind his head. You sit next to him and shove the bag into his hands. “It’s not much, but you literally have everything already, so this is what I came up with.”
You hold your breath and you watch him pick through the bag. A smile breaks out on his face when he sees the CD. He flips it around to show you as if you haven’t seen it before and opens the case. “A mixtape? How romantic.”
The heat that rises to your cheeks is scolding and you stop yourself from choking. Dream, however, doesn’t look at you as he digs through and comments on every item. When he’s gone through every gift, he picks up the mixtape again and looks you dead in the eyes.
“This is the most thoughtful thing I’ve ever gotten for my birthday. Thank you, Y/n.”
You’re surprised. “The most thoughtful? It’s only a CD.”
Dream’s face contorts into one of confusion. “Only a CD? You made this for me with your own blood, sweat and tears.” You wouldn’t go that far.
“Oh, well, you’re welcome, I guess,” You laugh, reaching down to grasp his large hand. The action causes Dream to tilt his head and shift closer to you.
“Seriously, thank you. You mean so much to me,” He confesses, although you can barely hear it. You feel tears pricking your eyes as you watch him wipe his own. “Fuck, why am I getting emotional? It’s that fucking vodka, that’s why.”
“Don’t make up excuses, D,” You tease, squeezing his hand a few times. He wheezes lightly then sighs. His green eyes are so bright and there’s still a little smudge of icing on the side of his nose from the cake. You reach up and wipe it away, licking your thumb beforehand. Dream closes his eyes as you do so, biting his lip as you pull your hand away. 2:29 am.
“Okay, I think it’s time to get you to bed,” You mumble as you stand up, the moment broken. Dream nods, collecting his presents and chucking them all in the gift bag before he follows you to his room, a little disappointed.
Dream stands in the doorway and watches as you pull back his bed covers and turn on the lamp on his nightstand. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it. Goodnight,” You push past him before you turn. “I’ll have Gatorade and Advil ready for you in the morning, okay?”
Dream gives you a loving smile and nods, still holding the bag in front of him as he stands in the middle of his room. “Goodnight, Y/n, thanks for everything.”
You close the door behind you and when you get back to your room, you kick yourself for not making a move. You peel your clothes off of your body and throw them in the corner of the room, the space becoming too hot for your liking—maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the fact that it's summer, or maybe it's your utter embarrassment and regret; you don't bother to choose which one.
You flop down on your bed, half-naked, and stare at the ceiling. Why didn't you make a move? It was the perfect opportunity—
Your thoughts are forgotten when there's a soft knock on your bedroom door. You scramble to put some pyjamas on as you call, 'just a second!', and then you're swinging your door open.
Dream stands there in his sweatpants only. You resist the urge to rake your eyes down his torso.
"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" The question surprises you—of fucking course it surprises you! The only reason he comes to your room at night is to vent; not like this.
"Uh, yeah," You reply, cracking the door open just a tad wider so he can slip through. Once he's inside, you sigh in confusion and close your door quietly. Dream is already sorting out the bed situation behind you, throwing your hundreds of throw pillows onto the floor and lifting up your duvet so he can slip under.
You tilt your head at him when he looks at you expectantly—you assume he's waiting for you to get in bed, which you do.
You rest your head on your pillow and turn your head to look at Dream, who is already staring at you. Your skin is hot and your heart is in your throat when you see how green his eyes are in the warm glow of your lamp.
"What's up?" You whisper although you didn't mean for it to come out so low. Dream's eyes trace your face; your eyes, eyebrows, nose, freckles, lips. "Dream?"
He's silent for a while and you guess it's because he's trying to figure out his drunken thoughts. "I just wanted to be with you, you know," He says, his voice breaking slightly. You suck in a breath, turning onto your side so you face him. "You planned my party all by yourself and I'm so happy you did."
You don't have the heart to tell him that George and Sapnap helped you, he looks so content. "I'm so glad, Dreamy," Your voice is velvety, and you can't help the warm feeling blooming in your chest. Dream's eyes travel from your own to your lips and stay there.
“C’mere," Dream mumbles. You barely nod before you lean closer to him.
You can tell Dream is figuring out what to do by the way his lips part and then close suddenly a few times, so, for the second time this week, you take things into your own hands.
You scoot closer to him, your breaths mixing in the small space between your lips and his nose bumping yours. You were so close. But not close enough.
"Dream, I'm gonna do something crazy, okay? Don't hate me," Here goes nothing.
"I could never hate you, baby," Dream murmurs, adjusting his head on his pillow. The pet name goes straight to your head and throwing out any and all rational thoughts, you lean in and place your lips softly on his.
It takes him a few seconds to react and in those moments, you fear you've made a huge mistake, but when his hands find your hips and pull you impossibly closer, you're glad you kissed him—are kissing him.
This is nothing like wine night a few weeks ago.
Your hands find the back of his head and tug on his hair lightly, earning a throaty groan. The sound makes you clench your fists and pull a little harder. You move your lips across his jaw and towards his ear. "Happy Birthday, birthday boy," You whisper.
Dream lets out a breathy laugh and hugs you closer. His face presses into your neck and you feel him leaving feather-light kisses on your skin. The feeling makes you giddy.
"I'm one lucky birthday boy, aren't I?" He mutters, pecking your neck firmer now. You giggle softly, running your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.
"You bet your ass you are."
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ragingbookdragon · 4 years ago
Text
Talk Shit, Get Hit
Warnings: Explicit Language, Usage of Racial Slur
Getting the call that his eldest child had gotten in trouble at school wasn’t surprising to Bruce. Not in the least. However, hearing that she was the one who instigated the fight was surprising because his daughter typically didn’t start fights with people, but she sure as hell finished them.
He smiled politely at the teachers and students lined in the hallway who were only sticking their heads out of the classrooms because they heard that Bruce Wayne had been called to come down to the academy—which had never happened before.
Entering the office, the secretary looked up and tipped her head to the door. “Headmaster McKinley is in the office with your daughter and the boy she got into the argument with, Mister Wayne. His mother will arrive soon.”
Bruce nodded and knocked on the door before opening it; his daughter rolled her eyes she saw him. “Good afternoon, Headmaster McKinley,” he greeted, shaking the headmaster’s hand.
“Good afternoon, Mister Wayne. I’m sorry you had to be called down here, but I’m afraid there was no other option after your daughter wouldn’t speak of the incident.” He glanced at the boy who was holding an icepack to a busted nose. “Mark has been kind enough to share his side of the story. We’re just waiting on her.”
Taking the seat beside her, he took a moment to look over her stance. She was leaning against the wall beside the desk, arms crossed over her chest, and he knew her lazy posture screamed, “I’m going to wipe the floor with all of you when I get my chance”—she was stalling because she had some ace up her sleeve.
Before he could say anything, a woman burst into the office, immediately running to the high schooler. “Mark!” she gasped at the busted nose then scowled at her. “Did you do this to my son! How dare you attack him!”
“Now Miss Vales, please calm down. There’s no reason to be hysterical,” the headmaster said, and she recoiled.
“Calm down?! She abused my son! I want this—this harlot expelled!”
“Nothing is going to be decided until she gives her side of the story, Miss Vales.” McKinley leveled her firmly. “Now would be a good time to explain that story, Miss Wayne.”
Her eyes momentarily found her father’s and they spoke wordlessly before she shrugged and admitted, “Yeah, I broke his nose.”
“AHA!” the woman shouted. “See! Expel h—”
“After he called me a rich bitch and then insulted my father’s decision to adopt my younger brother.” She smiled prettily and looked at Bruce. “Called Dick a racial slur too.”
Mark sat straight. “I did not!”
Her eyes darted to his and she pulled out a small device from her back pocket about the size of her palm. She clicked play and voices filled the room.
You know, I always wondered why someone like you dresses in poor-taste when your dad is a billionaire.
Well, it’s probably because my dad cut me off the credit cards and made me get a job to teach me humility and now, I buy my own things with my own money.
Your jewelry says otherwise.
My jewelry belonged to my grandmother. My dad gave it to me out of respect for her.
Oh yeah? And what about this?
Give me my wallet, Mark.
Wow, there’s like a grand in here just from hundred-dollar bills. I thought daddy didn’t give you money.
He doesn’t.
Then where’d you get this?
Oh, funny story. Every time I fuck your dad, he gives me a hundred, Mark. Better watch out before I make you my stepson.
You rich bitch!
Oh, what the hell, take the money. Maybe you’ll buy some better insults with it.
You and your family are just stupid rich assholes. You and your adopted gyp brother.
…What the fuck did you just say to me?
You heard me, bitch. I said—THWAP!
Call my brother some shit like that again and I’ll do more than break your fucking nose. I’ll stomp a mudhole in your—
She clicked stop and right about then, Mark’s mouth fell open, but nothing came out and his cheeks were aflame, as were his mother’s.
Her eyes darted to the headmaster’s and she set the recorder down. “You can give me detention for having a recorder in class but I’m not going to get punished for defending myself and my family against racial abuse.” She stood up from the wall and placed her hands on the desk, leaning forward until she was in his face.
“Go ahead though. Expel me if you want to. But the second that paperwork is filed I’ll march into the Daily Planet in Metropolis and have Clark Kent and Lois Lane ruin Gotham Academy by saying you allowed a student to use racial slurs and punished those who stood up against it.”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Wayne Enterprises wouldn't want to be associated with that. And if we pull our funds because you decided to punish someone standing up to racism, every organization that funds this shit-school will follow right down the line. You’ll displace thousands of teens and teachers from school and jobs not to mention yourself.”
“So, what’s it going to be, Headmaster McKinley. Are you going to punish me? Or him?”
The man was sweating after her tirade and he adjusted the pens on his desk, murmuring, “Mister Wayne, you and your daughter are free to leave.”
Bruce rose from his seat, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Come sweetheart, let’s go.” She obeyed, shooting a dirty look at Mark as she passed by, but her father stopped in his tracks and pointed a finger at the boy’s mother.
“If you ever insult my daughter like that again, I’ll bankrupt your husband’s company and then I’ll go on a rant about how you and your useless spouse have raised a racist.”
The woman’s eyes went wide, cheeks turning a fierce scarlet, and she went silent. As they passed, his daughter shot the woman the finger and mouthed, “Go fuck yourself.”
***
They stood outside the doors and he smiled at her. “Wanna get pizza?”
“Fuck yeah, I wanna get pizza.”
His smile slipped into a frown. “Hey, watch your language. You’re allowed to use it when kicking a racists’ ass, but not outside of that.”
She rolled her eyes. “Nyeh, whatever.”
“What was that?” he asked, blinking at her and she smiled cheekily.
“I said, yes sir, dad sir. Won’t happen again.”
“That’s better.”
“God you’re about as mother-henning as Alfred is. Miss Wayne watch your language. It is deplorable for a lady to speak in such a way. You should speak with eloquence instead.” She smiled when he snorted, then grabbed his arm. “Hey, let’s go get Dickie out of class and take him with us.”
“But he’s in French right now?”
“Dad…no one likes French class. It’s boring and hard.”
“…That’s an excellent point.” He walked over to the secretary and gave her a million-watt smile. Excuse me, miss, I’d like to check my son out of school.”
“Ahem,” she coughed dramatically, and he shot her a glance.
“Oh, right, and my daughter.”
“Reason?”
He blinked. “Because I said so?”
“Oh my god, dad.” She waved. “Dick Grayson and I have appointments at Doctor Leslie’s office in the city.”
The secretary smiled. “That’s a good reason.” She tapped at the mic. “Richard Grayson, please collect your things and report to the office, you’re checking out.” Clicking the mic off, she added, “And good on you for breaking Mark’s nose. Little-snot had it coming.”
She grinned. “I live to serve by punching racists.”
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idy-ll-ique · 4 years ago
Text
Do Your Job.
Pairing: Chris Evans x F!Reader
Genre: Fluff
Requested: Nope
Warnings: None
Summary: Y/N doesn't know how to say no. And Chris doesn't like that.
Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Angry!Chris in this fic, kind of Naive!Reader... Enjoy
---
Chris watched with a clenched jaw as the woman winced upon hearing her boss. He didn't like her boss, at all. "Y/N! Why haven't you made my coffee yet?" he screamed at her, despite standing only a few feet away from her. "I-I was… I was helping Peter…" she tried saying and Chris' hands balled into fists when the man took a few steps towards her, pointing a threatening finger in her face.
"Does he pay you? Huh? Are you his assistant? Now get lost and get me some coffee, fast! No excuses!" Teary-eyed after being screamed at, Y/N whirled around and walked out of the room. Chris wanted nothing more than to just grab that asshole's neck and squeeze until the life poured out of him. "Hey, everything okay?" He snapped out of his thoughts and turned to his co-star, Michelle Dockery.
"I, uh, yeah… yeah, I'm fine, why?" Michelle didn't miss his grumpiness. "Come on, you were sitting there like you were imagining someone's murder," she snorted, plopping down on the couch next to him. "His," Chris huffed, nodding his head towards Y/N's boss who was speaking to one of the extras on set. "What did he do?" Michelle frowned and turned to look as well.
"That man does not know how to treat his assistant."
It was the last week of filming Defending Jacob. Y/N had caught Chris' eye on his first day at work; she had him wrapped around her finger in the first week. She was super beautiful, very polite, kind and helpful. She cracked funny jokes and whenever she entered a room, it seemed to get a little brighter and livelier. Chris wanted to ask her out, but chickened out whenever he tried to approach her.
They hadn't talked, ever. Sure, sometimes he'd catch her looking in his direction during breaks and in-between shoots, but he never thought anything of it. He was Chris Evans, people were gonna stare. But, in the first month of filming, Chris realized that the woman had a bad habit— she didn't know how to say no. Ever. She never, ever said no to anyone. And that annoyed him.
Y/N, can you come here for a bit?
She would get up without question, and follow the voice. He once saw her sitting down for a quick lunch and she had only had one bite before someone called for her. And he had watched as she kept her lunch away and walked towards the person. That had made him unbelievably angry, because even after her work, she didn't eat. She gave up on lunch. He had come very close to talking to her that day.
His pent up frustration increased day-by-day, as more and more people started using Y/N's overly helpful nature to their advantage. He noticed how she ran around from place to place all day, how she'd practically collapse on a seat the moment she got a break and would softly groan when she heard her name not even 15 seconds later. And the worst part? None of the people she helped were polite.
Once, he saw Y/N helping someone with her dress and the moment the job was done, the other woman had walked away without a word, talking to some of her friends. He saw how Y/N had just stared at the woman, blinking, expecting a thank you but receiving nothing in return. He noticed the disappointed sigh she heaved after and left to do her other work. That incident had just made him want to hold her and never let go.
That brought them to today. Chris and Michelle dropped the topic and chatted about something else until he saw her from the corner of his eye. Then he turned to see her fully, watching as Y/N handed the cup of coffee to her boss. That man had the audacity to give her a glare before he walked away, sipping on the coffee. This time, even Michelle noticed, and her jaw dropped.
"What?! That bastard!" she exclaimed as a teardrop rolled down Y/N's cheek. Chris' heart broke at the sight, his eyes closing when someone behind him shouted her name. Her hand instantly flew up to wipe her tears and she smiled to herself before turning in his direction. And for a brief moment, their eyes met. She gave him a quick smile before jogging past him towards the person who asked for her.
He couldn't even smile back.
---
"Cut! Break time."
Chris eased out of his tense position and rolled his shoulders before walking away, trying to find a seat. His feet ached from standing. He soon found a seat and sat down, taking out his phone. He went over some texts, until he heard her name being called. Then his head snapped up, because the person who had called for her was her boss. He glanced around until he saw her a few feet away from him.
She had her headphones in and was holding her phone horizontally, which made him realize that she was either watching YouTube, a show or a movie. And she was on her break. "Yes?" Y/N replied, taking out her headphones. "Get me another cup of coffee," the boss mentioned offhandedly, "It's my break." Chris glared at that. Make it yourself, asshole.
"But sir, it's my break too…" Y/N insisted softly. And without knowing, Chris' feet carried him towards the two. "So? I pay you, Y/L/N, there's no need to be such a brat. I'll have you fired in no time, you— Mr Evans?" Everyone around them froze as Chris placed his hand on Y/N's shoulder, darkly glaring at her boss. "She told you she's on a break," he spoke coldly. "Mr Evans—"
And the knot inside him finally broke.
"She's on a fucking break! Let her get some rest! She has been running around all day, doing things for your lazy butts—" he addressed everyone loudly, "—and none of you even thank her! Do you know what an angel she is? She continues helping you even after you treat her like scum! It's just some fucking coffee, if you're on a break, make it yourself! For God's sake, leave the woman alone! All of you, if I ever, ever hear her name being called around here again, it's over. I'll make sure you're off the set before you can even say sorry. Now get lost!"
He didn't mean to be so loud, nor so angry. But it just happened, months of frustration, months of anger released all at once. Y/N's boss stared at Chris for a few seconds, blinking, before muttering a quiet sorry and leaving. Everyone silently got back to work as Chris took in some deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. That's when he felt a small hand covering his.
He looked down and saw Y/N smiling at him, tears wantonly running down her cheeks. "Thank you so much," she whispered and his heart raced. "Absolutely no problem, darling. They were the assholes, using you to their advantage like that, so fucking disrespectfully… You have got to learn how to say no," he chuckled, dropping his hand from her shoulder. "I do, don't I?" she hummed, her lips twitching in shame.
"We'll work on it, I promise." He gently cupped her cheeks, wiping away her tears. Y/N gulped, trying her best to hide the effect his touch had on her. She had a crush on him, but like, who didn't? "How? It's the last week of filming," she pointed out with a small, sarcastic laugh. "It doesn't have to be the last week of us talking. How about we have dinner tonight, 8?"
Was he actually asking her out?!
"Yeah, yeah 8 sounds good," she replied near instantly and he gave her an amused smile. "Great. I'll meet you later, okay?" As he started walking away, she called out, "Mr Evans! My number!" And he walked back to her. They exchanged numbers, sent each other "hi" to make sure they had the correct number and Chris walked away again, ready to film the last scene of the day.
He was in an unusually good mood, having finally asked her out. She said yes.
He was also pleased at the end of the day, not having heard Y/N's name being called out even once after his outburst. Sure, after her break, some people had requested her assistance but they talked politely to her, saying thank you when she was done and smiling. Chris approved of that, after all, it was her job.
And, in the blink of an eye, it was 7:30 pm.
Chris was at home, fixing his hair. They had agreed to meet at his place, not wanting the media to find out. There, he had already ordered some pizzas and had beer ready, a movie paused on the TV. Chris finished messing with his hair and went downstairs, quickly patting Dodger's head. He sat on the couch and waited, busy scrolling through Twitter until he heard the doorbell ring.
When he opened the door, he saw Y/N. And his breath caught in his throat; she looked absolutely stunning dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, a cute little smile plastered on her face. "May I come in?" she laughed a bit when he just stood there, staring at her in awe.
It turned out to be a really good date, the perfect start to a perfect relationship.
---
A/N: Thanks for reading! Leave a like if you enjoyed!
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spicyavenger · 3 years ago
Text
Next door part 2
Biker!bucky x reader
Summary- Bucky Barnes is a biker with a bad reputation, he’s intrigued by his neighbour and hates her boyfriend.
Triggers- graphic domestic violence, non-con, victim blaming, swearing, anxiety, panic attacks, body shaming, gaslighting, brief mention of drug abuse, emotional abuse.
⛔️PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE READING AND LET ME KNOW IF IVE MISSED ANYTHING⛔️
——————————————
Jack had taken the news surprisingly well, you suspected this was because he was still feeling guilty about what had unfolded between the two of you.
“Are you ready to go?” You asked as you stepped out of your bedroom, your favourite sundress hugging your figure.
“Are you wearing that baby?” He frowned at you.
“Oh…I was going to.” You looked down at yourself, trying to pick out what was wrong with your outfit.
“I think you should change.” Jack suggested “that dress doesn’t suit you, it makes you look huge.”
You felt tears form in your eyes as you turned back to your bedroom to change again. Jack had only said that because he cared, he didn’t want people to laugh at you; but it still hurt.
You came out of your room again in another dress, one which was much baggier.
“Much better.” Jack smiled at you “can’t see all those chubby bits now.”
—————————
You made your way over to Bucky’s hand in hand, a fake smile plastered on your face.
“You made it!” Bucky grinned at you once he noticed your presence.
“Of course we did!” You smiled back “this is my boyfriend Jack. Jack, this is Bucky.”
“It’s great to meet you pal.” Jack shook Bucky’s hand firmly “thank you for having us.”
“It’s no problem at all.” Bucky responded politely “have you nearly finished moving everything in?”
“We’re getting there, just a few more pieces of furniture we’re waiting to be delivered.” Jack explained.
“Just don’t leave your lovely girlfriend to bring everything in on her own next time.” Bucky joked.
“Are you saying I’m lazy?” Jacks body language immediately tensed.
“It was a joke buddy.” Bucky said calmly.
“It wasn’t fucking funny.” Jack retaliated, immediately gripping your arm hard enough to bruise.
“Don’t grab her like that.” Bucky ordered, noticing the way you winced.
“Don’t you dare tell me what to do!” Jacks voice raised.
“Is there a problem here?” A blonde man who was a similar build to Bucky immediately came to his side.
“It’s fine steve.” Bucky waved his hand nonchalantly “just trying to teach this scumbag some fucking manners.”
Jack scowled at Bucky, your heart began beating faster when you saw the signs of jacks anger building; not wanting the situation to end in a fight.
“You’re nothing but a god damn thug.” Jack spat at Bucky, his eyes dark.
“Leave. Now.” Bucky’s voice was low as he stepped closer to Jack, his fist clenched in preparation to fight.
Jack scoffed before practically dragging you back to your shared home.
Once you were out of sight steve turned to Bucky once again “what the fuck happened there?”
“He’s a piece of shit.” Bucky’s voice was calm despite the anger coursing through him “I didn’t like the way he grabbed her either.”
“Think we should go over and intervene?” Steve suggested.
“I don’t want to make the situation worse.” Bucky sighed “I’ll go check on her tomorrow once he’s at work.”
“Whatever you think pal.” Steve clapped a hand on his friends back before turning to retrieve himself a beer.
—————————
As soon as you were back at home Jack threw you to the floor.
“What the fuck did you tell him?” He shouted at you “did you tell him I left you to do everything on your own?”
“Of course I didn’t Jack!” You argued “I don’t know where he’s got that from.”
“You’ve been talking shit about me haven’t you?” He grabbed your hair roughly, pulling your head back so you were looking in his eyes “you’ve been flirting with that piece of shit and laughing at me haven’t you?”
“J-Jack…you’re hurting me.” Your voice wavered, fear beginning to take hold of you.
“I’m hurting you?” He scoffed “well you fucking hurt me when you cheated with that fucking idiot!”
Before you could deny the allegations you felt his boot clad foot connect with your stomach, followed by a succession of punches that blurred together.
“Fucking whore.” He mumbled as he stepped over your quivering form to retrieve a drink from the fridge before planting himself on the sofa and flicking the TV on as if nothing had happened.
You were completely frozen, terrified to move. You scooted back against the wall and wrapped your arms around your legs, rocking yourself slightly as you tried to comprehend what had just happened.
You didn’t know how much time had passed, it felt like you’d been sat there all night but in reality it couldn’t have been more than an hour. You tensed up again when you heard jacks footsteps approach, squeezing your eyes shut and attempting to keep your breathing steady.
“C’mon baby.” He said softly “let’s go to bed, you need to rest.”
You obediently took his hand and allowed him to lead you into the bedroom. He helped you change into a T-shirt to sleep in, completely ignoring the bruises that were already forming on your abdomen.
“I shouldn’t have hurt you.” He said quietly after you’d settled into bed.
“It’s okay.” You whispered.
“You shouldn’t have flirted with him though.” He spoke again.
“I’m sorry.” Your voice remained quiet, terrified of another altercation.
“I forgive you baby, it’s okay.” Jack said sweetie, pulling your body close to his.
——————————
You woke up the next morning relieved Jack had already gone to work, unsure how you felt after what had happened the night before. This was the second time Jack had raised a hand to you, you knew you should leave; but you loved him. He’d been the perfect partner for the past 4 years, encouraging and supporting you in everything you did.
As you were making the bed your phone pinged, when you went to check it you saw it was a text from Jack.
‘Hey baby’ it said ‘I’ll come home for my lunch break so we can eat together. Have a good day. I love you’
You knew the text really meant he was coming to check up on you, to make sure you weren’t going to leave him or tell anyone what happened; which you weren’t.
——————————
“So last night was eventful.” Steve said as he slid a coffee over to Bucky.
“Mmm.” Bucky agreed, focusing on the paperwork on his table instead of Steve’s words.
“Are you going to go speak to her?” Steve asked.
“Yeah, once I’m sure that wankers gone to work.” Bucky replied, taking a gulp of his coffee after he’d finished speaking.
“Do you think it’s a good idea…? For you to get involved?” Steve’s voice was filled with caution.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Bucky challenged.
“Because of what happened…with…your mum…because of your childhood.” Steve’s voice was soft.
Bucky slammed his coffee down onto the table, the brown liquid spilling over the sides and staining the wood.
“Don’t you dare bring that up.” His voice was low “don’t bring that up ever again.”
“Buck-“ Steve approached his friend, reached out to put his hand on his shoulder, but Bucky pushed him away.
“Leave.” Bucky demanded “go to the club, you’re supposed to be VP. Do some fucking work.”
Steve scoffed, pulling on his leather jacket before turning to his friend “you can’t go through your entire life pushing people away Buck.”
Before he could responded Steve had left, leaving Bucky furious and alone.
———————————
“Just fucking cover up.” You grumbled to your own reflection as you dabbed concealer onto a bruise on your collarbone, not wanting Jack to see it and feel guilty.
You threw your concealer down when you heard a knock at the door. Quickly making your way over to answer it.
“Bucky?” After you’d spoken you realised how rude you sounded, but the shock of seeing him on your doorstep made you forget your manners.
“Hey…Y/N.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously “I’m sorry for coming over here unannounced…I just wanted to check you were okay.”
“What do you mean?” You furrowed your brows slightly “of course I’m okay.”
“You don’t have to lie for him Y/N.” Bucky’s tone was serious “does he hurt you?”
“What? No- no of course he doesn’t!” You crossed your arms over your chest as you spoke.
“I saw him grab you last night. Does he…does he do that a lot?” He pressed, his eyes immediately drawn to the poorly covered bruise peeking out from under your jumper.
“No he doesn’t.” You said firmly “and I don’t appreciate you accusing him of stuff like that.”
“Look…you might not want to talk about it, and I understand that. I really do. But you shouldn’t stay with him, not when he hurts you.” Bucky’s tone was almost pleading.
“He doesn’t hurt me.” You said again.
“Care to explain that bruise to me then?” He asked, gesturing to the mark.
“That…that was…it was…” you tried to think of an excuse, but we’re distracted by jacks car pulling into the drive. Shit, was it 12 already?
“Hey baby.” He said as he approached, completely ignoring Bucky’s presence.
“Hey Jack.” You couldn’t help the way your voice wavered as you spoke.
“Can I help?” Jack turned to Bucky once he’d kissed you on the cheek.
“Not really.” Bucky said bluntly.
“You know barnes, I was chatting to some of the boys at work today about you. Seems you’ve got quite the reputation around here.” Jack smirked.
“Course you’re a fucking cop.” Bucky scoffed “you’re all the same.”
“I’d be careful about coming over here and harassing my girlfriend. I could get you into a lot of trouble if I wanted to.” Jacks voice was smug.
“I’d love to see you try.” Bucky challenged “besides, if I’m bothering Y/N she can tell me to leave herself.”
Jack turned to you expectantly, a slight glare on his face. Despite that you remained silent, not wanting to be rude.
“I…I…” you stammered, unsure what to say.
“Y/N.” Jacks voice was stern.
“You’re bothering me.” You rushed out, not looking Bucky in the eye.
“You know where to find me if you need me Y/N.” Bucky said softly.
You didn’t even have chance to process his words before Jack was leading you into the house.
“Jack, I-“ you tried to explain as soon as the door was closed, but before you could Jack had gripped you by the hair.
“Are you fucking him?” His voice was low, somehow that scared you more than him shouting.
“No. No of course not!” You spoke through tears “I wouldn’t do that, I love you!”
“You’re a liar!” Jack was also crying, tears streaming down his face as he threw you to the floor “how could you do this to me? How could you betray me like this?”
“Please baby, you have to believe me.” You begged, but it didn’t stop a firm punch from landing across your face.
“You’d be nothing without me Y/N!” He was shouting now “without me you’d still be living in that shitty apartment with your junkie family. I saved you, I fucking created you!”
He was right. When you’d met Jack you were living in poverty, doing your best to support your parents into checking into rehab. You were working 70 hour weeks whilst caring for your younger siblings. You were broken.
“I know you did, I know I owe all of this to you.” You sobbed “but p-please don’t hurt me, I swear I’d never betray you like that.”
Suddenly his grip on your hair vanished, his eyes widened as he took in your shaking form.
“Fuck, Y/N…I’m so…I’m so sorry.” His voice was gentle as he brushed his fingers along your bruised cheek “I can’t believe I did that…I…I wouldn’t…you know that’s not me don’t you? I’d never hurt you”
You found yourself leaning into his gentle touch, desperate for love and affection after what you’d just endured. You knew it was messed up, but you couldn’t help but crave it.
“C’mon babe, let’s get you cleaned up.” He lifted your shaking form gently from the floor, mumbling apologies as he carried you to the bedroom.
You remained silent and still as he wiped your face with a warm cloth, trying to process what had happened.
You were aware Jack was speaking, but couldn’t make out any words. Instead you curled into a ball on your bed, waiting for sleep to take you.
—————————
Note- thank you so much to everyone who read the first part of this fic, I’m sorry it took so long to do the second part. Not proof read so sorry for any errors. Feedback is always appreciated💓
@airyonna15 @silentkiller2374
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jangofctts · 4 years ago
Text
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As You Are (Bucky Barnes x fem!reader)
Rated: Mature, Explicit 18+
Word Count: 6.4k
Warnings: smut, explicit language, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence and injuries, light choking, brief thigh riding/grinding, vaginal fingering with them metal fingies, oral female receiving, unprotected vaginal sex (dont be a dick, wrap that stick), fucking on sam’s couch
a/n: ok hi this fic is very self indulgent bUT YKNOW WHAT WHO CARES EKJHEJHKEJH this is my first fic for marvel and AH I hope I did Bucky justice. ENJOY YALL
This had been a terrible idea. 
Right from the minute you tailed after he and Sam to the Baron’s extensive vintage car storage. Bucky had explicitly withheld any and all information regarding this little excursion to protect you but of course you’d shown up—none too jazzed about the little stunt Bucky pulled regarding the Baron. Fair. 
You were right—Bucky should have called but that overwhelming guilt of dragging you into another one of his problems stopped him from pressing that little call button. He never wanted to be the reason you ended up back on the run again. Though judging by the way things were going, it was more than likely you’d be in prison by the end of the week. 
Luck had your back in that sort of regard—too bad it could never rescue you from your own stubbornness and grief regarding that damn shield. 
You’d taken a devastatingly hard hit from Walker—a fractured orbital, a split lip and a dislocated shoulder. All preventable—if only Bucky kept better track of you before you showed up in that warehouse alone. Left to fight the shadow of what was once a symbol of hope for some—another man playing dress-up in something that will never belong to him. 
It was just their luck Bucky and Sam arrived in time—preventing you from becoming another red stain of violence splattered over that shield. 
James Buchanan Barnes is not afraid of much—but fuck. Seeing you crumpled over the concrete floor, all bloodied and struggling to raise a hand to protect your face… It was the same feeling as injecting his veins with a pure shot of adrenaline and anger shrouded in fear. He promised Steve he’d look after you… 
And as Sam carried you out of that warehouse you had the gall to tenderly tell them that you were just fine—as if your mouth weren’t full of blood and a face blooming with patchy bruises. The jealousy that sparked through Bucky’s chest when you clung to Sam’s chest did nothing to help that dark festering pit inside his ribcage he’s attempting to suture back together.
Bucky clenches his jaw. At least you’re asleep now. Curled up against the window, holding your injured arm in a way that limited the turbulence from jostling it. It’s the first time Bucky would describe you as fragile. He know’s you’re anything but that—stubborn mostly—yet most of all brave. It’s what Steve admired most about you—what Bucky loves most about you too. That vibrant spark flowing through your blood and how you’re not afraid to shout along to your favorite songs despite the odd looks you get. Bucky envies how self-assured you are, how you’ll never lose yourself because you know just where you’re headed. He wishes he still had that sort of drive instead of all this uncertainty and guilt clouding each muscle and fibre in his body.      
Bucky doesn’t realize the jet has landed until Sam stands and and places a large hand over your shoulder. Your face scrunches as you whine and curl further into your seat. “C’mon, kiddo.” You grumble something inaudible. “You want me to carry you?”
The delicate plates of vibranium clink together as Bucky’s hand tightens into a fist, jealousy flaring hot and bright. He quickly stands, too fast to be considering anything less than awkward. Sam’s brow quirks. “I can do it.”   
“It’s cool, man,” Sam says as he scoops one arm under your legs and the other around your back. “I got her.”
Bucky bristles. Whatever. 
It’s not like you and him have anything together. A one sided plague of affection that you’ll never know about—he wants to tell you. Fuck, the words burn through his tongue and collect like ashes between his teeth and yet they are never voiced from self sabotage. There’s no possible way to voice how you’ve haunted his thoughts and his dream since the moment his eyes met yours. How he’s memorized the lines of your smile and the sweet sound of your laugh, the sweep of your lashes and the rhythm of your steps. Bucky would know you deaf, blind, numb, in this world or any other twisted reality. 
He had said that he wasn’t afraid of much, but that’s not entirely true. Eternity, oblivion, crowded rooms, being alone too long. And you. You terrify him. You have the power to pluck at the very strings of his soul and unravel him completely until he’s no more—and you don’t even know it. Bucky Barnes is less afraid of dying than he is of loosing you but that fear never once provides him the courage to tell you. You may not be a scribbled name in his book, but he still hopes that one day he’ll earn the chance to strike his cowardice and put to rest the wretched ache in his heart that he feels for you. 
He wishes he told you in Wakanda, after the Blip, Riga, and right this instant. He watches Sam carry you out of the jet—what’s a little more time?
                          -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The sun is beginning to melt into the horizon, turning the expanse of water into molten gold and shimmering blues. The hazy humidity from the late afternoon heat collects at the back of Bucky’s neck and the light breeze does nothing to cool. Bucky sighs and swipes at the bead of sweat creeping down his forehead with the back of his hand—he glances up. 
A ghost of a smile creeps across his lips. You’re exactly where he and Sam left you three hours ago. Surprising to be quite honest—you never did like to stay in one place for longer than ten minutes. You’re a pain in his ass, simply said.  
But now—now you’re haphazardly splayed out on the lawn chair you were forced into, a juice box loosely held in your good hand while the other still remains in the sling. He can’t tell if you’re asleep—Steve’s sunglasses do an excellent job of hiding your eyes. Yet as Bucky wanders closer, your head rolls to your right in greeting. 
“It’s rude to stare, y’know,” you grumble, lifting the juice box to your mouth. Your lips purse around the plastic straw. “And before you ask—yes, I have a very important job I’m currently overseeing.”
Bucky quirks a brow. “What—hogging the lawn chair?”
“No—“ You huff. You gesture with your juice box at the large cooler your sandaled feet are propped up on. “I’m the booze master. God of the ale, destroyer of sobriety—“
“Alright, Booze Master,” Bucky interrupts with a snort. “Why don’t you bestow upon me a beer, your majesty.”
You tap your index finger over your chin as a lazy smile fixes itself over your lips. “Granted.”
You slide your legs off the cooler and with a pained grunt you shift forward. Bucky shoots his arm out and steadies you back against the chair by your shoulder before you get any further. Your face pulls into a grimace.
“I got it, kid. Relax.”
Bucky pops open the cooler and fishes out a beer and pops the cap off between his left index finger and thumb. You watch with a frown, “I could’ve done that for you.” 
Bucky resists the urge to roll his eyes and takes a seat on the cooler. The bitter fizz floods his tastebuds as he takes a sip of his drink, a tangible silence blanketing the space between you. He gets it—people like he and you can never settle for complacency. As if the rest isn’t deserved despite the bloody knuckles and the shattered glass that slices through skin—the bruises and the broken bones. None of it is enough—not worthwhile to preserve yourself when other’s so desperately need your help. 
Or maybe it’s penance. 
Bucky sure as shit finds himself swallowed by the black maw of guilt each and every day. Battling the never ending shadow of doubt that clings to his soul like glitter to a an old carpet. Bucky believes it’s safe to say that you’re the same—every good deed you do added to the imaginary scale weighing against the bad despite it feeling hollow and insurmountable. Paying in blood to equate the amount you’ve spilled. A hopeless battle you both insist on fighting. 
Bucky sighs through his nose, bends at the waist and collects both your ankles in his left hand. You let him lift them both and settle your legs over his knees. You shiver, an eruption of goosebumps rushing up your skin at the cold metallic shock of Bucky’s vibranium thumb scrapinh over your bare flesh.
Bucky’s lips tilt down ever so slightly. “Did I hurt you?”
“Never,” you rush to say before he has the chance to flee. “S’just cold.” 
His hum reverberates low in his chest as those cerulean blue eyes fall to his hands. You clench your jaw until your teeth ache as his left thumb continues to stroke over the delicate skin covering the joint of your ankle. This is…new…
You’d been close with Steve and Sam, and by proxy Bucky—in some weird adjunct way. Compared to Sam’s teasing bumps of the shoulder and that infectious laugh far more addicting than the golden liquor of the sun, Bucky is frigid. Still attempting to shake off the whole Winter Soldier thing that’s molded onto his bones like stubborn permafrost. Touch had always been tricky with him—even a friendly pat over the back or a simple tap to the harm had him tensing under the touch—muscle and steel bunching to prepare for a harsh blow that would never arrive. Never from you.         
Bucky rarely sought out your physical comfort—you were always the one to initiate those friendly touches even if he was the type to just sit and ignore you like a grouchy old cat barely clinging onto that ninth life. The first time he breached that fragile barrier was in Wakanda—something in Bucky cracked and split into a cavernous ravine of nebulosity. Stitches shred apart then stapled back together as he grabbed your arm and wrestled you into a bone-crushing hug. You didn’t need to ask to realize he cried the entire time, gripping your shirt like a lifeline while he shuddered and sobbed into the crook of your neck. To him everything from the rain to silk sheets felt like shrapnel and the stars tasted like old blood and the past of things long gone—yet you were familiar. 
A comfort for the much needed healing of the scattered pieces of a man. You don’t mind helping him pick up the tidbits and reattach them with veins of silver. It’s the least you can do. 
The second time occurred after the loss of Steve. Some part of you had been wrenched out with his departure and he never bothered to return it. It doesn’t matter anymore—the hollow ache had been soothed with the Winter Soldier clutching you to his chest until you drifted off into a fitful sleep. A tether to a new reality you both partake in. 
Which brings you to now. There’s no cathartic reasoning behind his touch…it’s simple…a risky leap of faith into unknown territory. Bucky’s eyes lift to meet yours—curiosity swimming in those icy irises. You don’t mind—in fact you quite like the calloused warmth of his hand and the opposing chilly metal one tentatively exploring your exposed skin. 
“You have a scar here,” Bucky murmurs, skimming the thumb made up of flesh and sinew over the mottled skin occupying the crease of where the top of your foot meets your ankle. 
You bite the inside of your cheek. “I fell on barbed wire.”
“Clumsy,” he chides, quirking a dark brow. 
Your shoulders bounce with a huff. “I was like—twelve when it happened, James.”
His mouth quirks in a half smile, quite liking the validation of his name in the way your mouth speaks it. He wonders if you know the weight of granting you that leeway of calling him that. Shit—he doesn’t care what you call him, everything sounds lovely when you say it. 
There’s another silence—holding your breath until something splits and shatters into a million pieces. You’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want anything more than just friendship with Bucky but fear of rejection is a tricky thing. You take the easy way out and offer him the chance of something more on a silver platter. 
“Bucky?”
His fingers whisper up your shin as he inclines his head.              
“I’m tired. Drive me back to Sam’s?”
“Sure thing, doll.” 
                            -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Bucky holds the door open for you as you stumble in, escaping the hazy southern heat. He disappears into the kitchen as you make a beeline straight for the couch, sighing loudly once the plush cushions meet your back. You lazily lift your head once you hear his familiar footfalls nearing. 
With him he brings two Otterpops, one blue raspberry and the other cherry. Once he hands it to you he takes a seat on your left, close enough that his thigh and shoulder bumps against yours. “Don’t tell Sarah’s kids that these were the last ones.”
You roll your eyes and promptly stick the Otterpop into you mouth. “‘M ain’t no snitch.”
His low chuckle reverberates through his chest. The silence that follows isn’t an awkward one as you enjoy the cold treat—it’s filled with the humming cicada bugs outside and the breeze through the wind chimes. Comfortable with the normalcy—just a couple of regular old people enjoying life for a suspended amount of seconds.  
Once you finish the Otter Pop, you crumple the plastic up and rest it on the coffee table. He does the same—hints of the blue syrup sticking to the cracks of his plush lips. You force yourself to avert your eyes. You cheeks heat with a flush as you rush to occupy your mind with anything but wild fantasies of Bucky’s mouth. You lean forward again, pointedly ignoring the way Bucky’s eyes track your movements as you shuck off your sling, the prickle of unused muscles and bruised ligaments rushing through the limb. You wince as you slowly roll your shoulder. 
The muscles in Bucky’s jaw clenches. You sigh—he’s still blaming himself for your injuries. “Does it still hurt?”
“Not everyone has freaky healing powers, Buck,” you snort. You rush to appease him when he frowns. “It’s getting better though. Still can’t sleep on it—but eh.” 
“I’m sorry.”
You bite the inside of your cheek. No matter how many times you tell him he’ll never believe you. That’s something only he can fix. Doesn’t stop you from telling him anyway. “Stop blaming yourself for my idiocy. I made my choice and paid the price for it.”
Bucky’s eyes drop to his hands. “Can’t help it, sweetheart. Steve told me to look after you.”
Your heart constricts within your chest like a fist. You inhale and reach out to rest your hand over his wrist. “Funny—he told me the same thing about you.”
It surprises him—his dark brows furrow as his mouth parts, but nothing comes forth. Grappling with the right words that fit with what he feels. He’s still learning how to give his soul a name that fits. Learning how to take the dark, twisted bramble of his heart and make it into something that doesn’t ache each time it beats. He’s still learning how to look himself in the eyes, point to himself and say that there’s nothing frightening in there. Not anymore. No more. 
You suck in a breath and muster up the embers of courage. Here goes nothing— 
You cup Bucky’s cheek, the scrape of stubble welcome against your warm palm as you gently turn his face to look at you. His eyes drift to yours when the mumbled syllables of his name tumble from your lips. His eyes are framed with dark circles of wildflower bruises, his small smile a moonbeam stark against battered skin. You’ve dreamt so many times of swallowing it whole and pressing him close enough that your heartstrings become entangled with no hope of separation. But that’s something for him to decide. 
You drop your hand cradling Bucky’s jaw, but before your hand completely falls Bucky surges forward. His large hands rush to cup your face, swallowing your noise of surprise as his plush lips fall onto yours. The syrupy flavor of a Blue Raspberry Otter Pop he stole from Sarah’s freezer lingers on Bucky’s mouth, mixed in with the smell of old leather and cracked cardamom. Bucky nips at your bottom lip, tugging once and then rolling it between the blunt enamel of his teeth. Despite all the bad jokes regarding his age and senior citizen status—fuck he’s a damn good kisser. Compared to him you feel clumsy, sloppy, but no matter how hard you search for his distaste he doesn't seem to care in the slightest—if anything he’s pulling you closer. 
Bucky’s kisses may taste like the middle of June and a first love, but desperation lines every action like a wound with jagged edges. It’s a slow process learning to be free, but one day he’ll transform into starlight—and instead of a kiss like fire, it’ll be like touching your lips to a constellation’s aureate mouth.   
When Bucky pulls away, sucking in air and resting his forehead on yours, you catch a whiff of his hair. Freshly washed and smelling a bit like Sam’s shampoo. Your lips quirk. You’ll make sure to keep that a secret from Sam.
You pull back just enough to meet his eye, resting your palm over his vibranium hand that still cups your cheek. “Am I the first person you’ve kissed since the stone ages?”
His lips pull into a cheeky smile. “Maybe.”
You laugh and roll your eyes, skating your palm down the front of his shirt, the heat of his skin near searing through the fabric. “I guess we have a lot of catching up to do, huh?”
Bucky’s lips smother your small moan as he drags you into another kiss. You can feel his smile as he murmurs his agreement between desperate kisses and the enticing warmth of his tongue skimming along yours. The next time you part for air, Bucky drops his strong hands from your face to instead wrap them around the curve of your hips. He tugs you over his right thigh with ease and breathes a gentle sigh of your name, beginning to pepper kisses over you cheek and down the slope of your jaw.
Bucky reaches your ear and carefully nibbles the cartilage, his voice a warm scrape in your ear. “I want you.”
It’s such a simple phrase…and yet…it tears through you and pools like a heavy weight right to your center. “Then take me.”
Quick as a strike of a match, you’re tipped backwards, cradled right between the arm of the couch and the back of it. Heat rushes through each limb and gathers in your cheeks as Bucky’s vibranium fingers skate up your chest and curl around the column of your throat—that hardened soldier he’s tried to bury bleeding through the cracks of his resolve. You don’t care. You gasp into his mouth as he squeezes ever so slightly while he pushes a firm thigh between your legs. Shit—this is how you’re gonna die—grinding on Bucky’s muscled leg while he’s got a hand around your throat. 
What a way to go.    
With his other hand he grips the meat of your thigh and pulls you higher, grinding the rough material of his jeans covering his crotch into yours. You whine and arch into him. You need more. 
You both stay here for a good while up until it feels like you’re ready to burst at the seems if you don’t have him now. Bucky is no better—cheeks flushed as he fumbles with the zipper to relieve the noticeable bulge straining against it. Impatient and needy, you shoo away his hands and do it yourself, easily sliding your warm hand down his navel and over his boxers to palm at his cock. Bucky’s hand twitches around your neck, a sweet groan filling the air when you softly squeeze him through the elastic.
“Fuck, you’re gonna…” Bucky trails off and buries his nose into the crook of your neck. “Gonna make me cum in my pants if you don’t—don’t stop.”
While the thought is tempting, you want this to last just a little bit longer. Rush after the glorious high of just being near him, his kisses, everything about him. Bucky grunts at the loss of your hand and mouths a wet trail of sloppy kisses up your neck and returns to your lips. When you part he sweeps a stray strand of hair and tucks it behind your ear. He smiles softly.
“Can I try something?” He breaths. Before he can even tell you what his idea is, you’re happily nodding along. “Wanna taste you. Been thinking about it ever since Wakanda.”
Oof. His words shoot straight your center. “Bucky—why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
His mouth quirks. “You make me nervous.”
Rolling your eyes you plant a kiss on his forehead and grant him his simple desire. Bucky sits and slides to the floor, close enough that he’s still able to hover over you. You lift your hips as Bucky tugs your shorts and underwear down and off your legs. Besides the general anxieties of being half naked in front of an incredibly attractive man and performing something so sinful on a friend’s couch—there’s a strange stroke of pride that alights through each of your vertebrae. A powerful man willingly dropping to his knees to please you. 
Bucky shoots you a smile and slides his hands around your ribcage, bends forward slightly and captures you mouth in a deep kiss. He parts and nips down your jaw and over your throat, sliding his tongue over the marks he leaves with his teeth as if to soothe the slight sting. You whine and arch into him as he slides lower, leaving an obvious trail of bruises and teeth marks in his wake until he reaches the collar of your shirt. Bucky moves his palms under the fabric to grab at your breasts, the flats of his fingertips rolling over your nipples that peak through your bra. You suck in a shaky breath when Bucky catches the pebbled bud between his forefinger and thumb, the hard vibranium of his fingers scraping over it. A low hum rumbles through his chest as he leans forward to playfully nip at your collarbone.
“I wanna see you naked.” Bucky admits as he slips his hands out of your shirt. You shiver as those chilly metal fingers gently come to rest on the outside of your bare thighs. 
“Not here, Buck,” you sigh. “T-they—fuck—they can come back any minute.”
Bucky quirks a brow, eyes dropping between your legs, then back up with a smirk. His plush lips part, yet before he can disprove your silly point—that your bare ass is already out and taking off the shirt would barely make a difference—you interject. 
“Shut up.”
His shoulders bounce with a chuckle. “You have such a way with words, y’know that?”
You make a noise low in your throat and reach out to sharply tug his ear. He easily bats your hand aside, hooks his hands under your ass and hauls until you’re all but hanging over the edge of the cushions. You squirm, unable close your legs or to relieve some of that burning tension collecting in your core as Bucky lowers himself and wedges his shoulder between your thighs. He slides his hand over your calfs and wrestles them over his broad shoulders—earning a perfect view of your pussy. You’re already wet—worked up and running on borrowed time. You roll your head back onto the back of the couch and clench your jaw. You don’t want to rush him but Christ—you really don’t want Sam or Sarah to find you like this.   
It feels like ages before Bucky’s lips touch your belly and then your navel with his warm tongue. With a grunt he shoves your shirt up to your breasts and circles your bellybutton with the tip of his tongue—his enhanced strength easily pinning you down as you jerk and giggle.
Bucky picks up his head and grins. “Try and hold still, doll.”
No sharp retort comes to mind. Fuck—he’s already got you so expertly wrapped around his finger. 
Bucky hums, satisfied with your weak nod and continues on.  
Bucky’s bare fingers trace minuscule patterns into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, coaxing out a shiver that rushes through your body. They tickle towards the apex of your thighs and settle close enough to reach your aching center. He pauses for a moment and while you know he’s there, you curse when you feel his thumbs softly part the lips of your soaking cunt. They gently work up and down, smearing your wetness around but never enough to give you any friction as your body adjusts to the feel of flash and vibranium. You bite back a groan as your hips unconsciously twitch. 
Unsatisfied with simply touching you, Bucky shifts his weight to better reach your core. “Fuck—you’re so pretty.”   
There's a moment just before Bucky swoops down, face hovering close enough that you can feel his sticky, warm breath fan across you inner thighs. Anticipation grips your heart with an iron hold, and then— Bucky licks a broad stripe from the base of your cunt all the way up to your swollen clit. His mouth is molten, tongue like liquid velvet as you shudder and grab at his hair. Bucky grunts against you as you drag him closer by the short strands—greedy for any and all touch he gifts you. Bucky’s mouth slips around your clit, sucking and tracing circles over the bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue. Your eyes flutter shut as a quiet moan wrenches free from your vocal cords.  
He trails lower, sucks on your labia, and makes his way down to your soaking entrance. The wet heat of his tongue circles your cunt, skips over it completely to catch the wetness before it leaks over the couch. Bucky opens his mouth wide and groans in appreciation, devouring your pussy like he’s been denied this his entire life. Desperation lingers on his tongue and all you are is the honey sweet taste of salvation. 
“Shit—Bucky,” you cry, throwing your hips forward in search of more friction.
It's perfect. So fucking delicious. 
You tense as the vibranium tips of his fingers, two of them, press at your entrance, teasing the clenching ring of soft muscle before sinking in. The chilly digits slip in with ease—all the way up to the second knuckle and when he draws them back, they're slick with your wetness. With a self-satisfied grin, Bucky thrusts them back in, then out—setting a steady pace that makes everything ache with desire. It leaves you just hovering over the sharp edge of ecstasy, the catch of his knuckles and imperceptible metal plating dragging along your walls pure torture. Fuck—he’s going to be the death of you—
Bucky’s mouth dips down a second time and sucks on your clit and with a few more curls and thrusts of his fingers inside of your clenching walls, your body seizes up tight. You're flying off that edge, faster than a fucking freight train. You cum onto his tongue and fingers with a strangled cry of his name, sparks of blurry white lining the edges of your vision as your back arches. Bucky continues to lick you through your orgasm, even as you buck and squirm in his iron hold. Supernovas implode behind your eyelids as heat, hotter than wildfire and jet fuel spreads from your center all the way up your stomach and down to your toes. You're shaking, lucid enough to hear Bucky murmur his praise—feeling the vibration of his groan, as he licks up the flood of your wetness over his tongue. 
Your brain swims in hazy bliss as you float back to reality. He's still curling his fingers into your pussy and it damn near hurts. You're too sensitive. Nerves rubbed raw and still throbbing—but you're too fucked out and still riding the waves of your orgasm to push him away. Bucky is all too happy to remain between your legs—takes this opportunity to tilt his fingers into your cunt faster, suckle and lave his hot tongue over your clit that burns from overstimulation—somehow you're back at the very edge again.
It's sharper than a vibranium razor against bare flesh. Your thighs shake around him as he twists his fingers inside you and bumps agains that tiny, little patch of nerves. You cry out as an orgasm floods through you veins, rupturing each cell in your being with molten pleasure. Your core pulses around Bucky’s fingers, fucking you through it until those burning waves of release eventually cease to a fading throb. You whine and push at his forehead because he's still going. You panic a bit—fucking hell, he’s gonna make you cry—but he pulls away, his mouth and chin wet with your slick. 
“Feel good?” Bucky purrs, resting his cheek on your thigh. 
If judging by the way you thighs still quiver and your chest heaves—then yeah—it felt good. 
Cheeky bastard.  
“Get up here—“
You grapple with his shirt, fisting the thin fabric, but he’s heavy and your entire body feels like jello. Your grip strength is all but laughable at the moment as Bucky clambers back onto the couch and grabs both of your legs, slotting his narrow hips between them. One leg is stuck against the back of the couch while the other hangs off the edge, foot skimming the hardwood floor to accommodate Bucky. Not the most comfortable but fuck it—who cares.    
Bucky grunts when you lift your hands and hook your fingers into the waistband of his jeans, tugging them halfway down his legs with a sharp yank. Already a dark patch of wetness stains the fabric of his boxers, the impressive bulge straining against the elastic and begging to be released. Your eyes meet his icy blue ones as you slowly pull his boxers over his cock. It bounces up towards his navel, thick and beautiful just like the rest of him. 
Impatient, Bucky’s fingers curl around your wrist and presses your open palm against his cock. He’s thick and heavy in your hand—perfect. The bead of precum that pools at his flushed tip smears against the inside of your palm as you experimentally roll your wrist, fascinated with the feel of his foreskin rolling over the steel heard flesh with each stroke.You give his a cock a rougher squeeze, a bolt of liquid heat settling in the pit of your stomach as a stifled moan reaches your ears. 
A sharp hiss of hair passes through his clenched teeth as you lightly tug on his cock. From the base up you pull, fixed upon the throbbing flesh, flushed and pulsing and all for you. His cock bobs when you let go—he huffs out a disappointed noise. “I need you, Buck—please.” 
Your previous two orgasms did seemingly nothing to soothe the growing ache for him. It prickles up your spine and singes through every nerve and bone—you whine and arch your hips, trying to touch your slick cunt to his cock. Bucky growls your name and pins your hips to the couch with ease. 
With his left hand, Bucky firmly grips your jaw, his stare folding into something serious. “You sure?”
Your tongue runs over your bottom lip. You grin. “Do your worst.”
Bucky curses and readjusts your calf slung over his hip and grips the base of his cock. You shudder as he runs the blunt head through your folds, slicking himself up with your arousal. You mewl and dig your nails into the flesh of his forearm as the wide tip of him pushes into your entrance—he shudders as you clench and arch. It doesn’t hurt, but he’s certainly not small in any way shape or form. You’ll feel him for days afterwards as your cunt swallows inch after inch. 
You both groan as he finally bottoms out. His jaw clenched tight as sweat beads at his hairline. Shit—he’s gorgeous—struggling not to loose control the moment he’s buried inside of you. You allow yourself to adjust for a moment but your own impatience rakes down your spine with claws of scorching arousal. You rock your hips in curiosity and squeeze around him. 
“Fuck—“ A ragged moans severs his words as your gentle rocking tilts into abrasive jolts. At this angle it’s difficult to fuck yourself onto his cock, but the measly thrusts are meant to tempt him. His left hand shoots to your throat, the chilly metal a stark contrast to your flushed skin. You dip your head back, exposing more of your supple skin—all his for the taking. 
You dig the heel of your foot into the small of his back and grab at his shoulders—tempting him into fucking you already. You’ve waited long enough. Bucky snarls your name, hooks one hand under your ass and pulls his cock nearly all the way, out only to slam back in with devastating force. There’s no time to adjust or gather your obliterated thoughts before Bucky sets a pace, desperate and feral. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end after being denied for what seems like a millennia—and maybe it has been. Bucky shifts, widening his knees as much as he can to sink lower onto your body—his soft hair tickles your cheek as his choppy exhales burn hot over your skin. 
Bucky turns his head to steal a kiss, open mouthed and catastrophic. No words are exchanged as he fucks into you with brutal strength aided by that damn super-soldier serum—there’s no need for them, not now anyway. You complete each other without the spoken utterances—still both a work in progress. Though most things are you suppose—constantly remaking yourselves, but instead of smashing the haphazard pieces back together alone—you have one another. You bury your hand in his hair and cry his name.  
You choke out another groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter and damn—you really hope nothing gets on this stupid couch. You don’t want to explain that Sam. 
Electric heat sears down each vertebrae in your spine, blazing through each and every vein with the brilliance of a wildfire escaping the edges of the forest. This is gonna ruin you. Bucky’s hand reaches between your bodies and rubs tight, controlled circles over you swollen clit. There’s no build up to your orgasm—just a calamitous surge of warmth that sweeps your very soul off its feet. Your nails dig into Bucky's back as you shake and fumble for a foothold in your own consciousness—the steady warmth of his body a much needed anchor. 
You have no time to recover because he’s still going. Thrusting into your pussy with violent slaps that echo through the room and will more than likely leave bruises against your ass. Through the pressure of his hand over your windpipe—threatening to cut your air off completely—you garble out his name. Bucky drops his head to his chin, the weight of his gaze landing between your legs, watching the way his entire length disappears inside of you. When he raises his head he molds his mouth to yours. The soft, wet kisses rapidly morph into pricks of his teeth, his gravelly moans so pleasing to hear. 
You arch and tilt your head back as he presses you harder into the couch. The vibranium hand latched onto your jaw, works it open and slides a thumb past your plush lips. You lave your tongue over the digit—the metallic tang flooding your tastebuds. “Good girl—m’close. A little longer.”
Bucky’s panting breaths mingle with yours as his pace turns vicious. Chasing his high that he so desperately needs. Overstimulation bites at your nerves, but with a gentle tug to the soft strands of hair on the back of his neck and a sweet whisper of his name, Bucky bursts. His moan jumps up an octave, eyes slamming shut as he buries his face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder as he cums. He’s shuddering in your arms as his hips erratically jerk, hot spurts of his release coating your insides. You whine and tilt your hips up to prevent it from spilling onto the couch. 
Finally he slows to a stop, ragged breathing filling the air as the heat and weight of his body becomes a welcome comfort. Eventually that warmth grows stifling. He lazily pulls away, observing gaze drinking in each inch of bare skin exposed—the marks and the light sheen of sweat. You hiss as he curiously drags his thumb over the bite mark lingering just above your collarbone.
He parts his plush lips but before he can apologize, you interject. “Don’t—I like the reminder.”
Bucky shakes his head and drops down to tempt your lips into a lazy dance. “You’re a weirdo.”
You smile and cup his cheek. “I’m not the one with a staring problem. You know that you can’t kill people by glaring, right?”
Bucky kisses your cheek, your jaw, and then the dip of your throat. “You don’t ever shut up, do you?” 
You shudder as his softening cock twitches inside of you, another coal of desire flaring in the pit of your stomach. You flash him a coquettish grin. “Maybe if you give my mouth something to do, you’ll finally get some peace and quiet.” 
Something dark and dangerous flickers within those eyes. You shiver as one hand returns to your throat while the other draws teasing patterns over the outside of your thigh. He draws in close, nips at the shell of your ear and chuckles darkly. “You’re on.”
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secretbangtnn · 4 years ago
Text
Best Of Me | One
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Pairings : →ot7 x reader, poly!BTS x reader
Genre : → vampireau, yandere!au, age gap, gore, obsessive behavior, ddlg/caregiver, poly, fantasy, supernaturals
summary : It’s quite unusual to find a little baby on your doorstep, especially that their area was not of the poorest - you could say that a vampire town was efficient with money and snobby creatures. However over time the first idea of just giving back the little girl seems more and more radical and those moody vampires slowly start perceiving deeper feelings to human they even wanted to kill.
notes ~
So im not really as happy as i wanted to be with this chapter, but its the first one that i needed to translate. Suprisingly Its easier for me to write the whole thing myslef than translating it from my native language. + Remember to leave something and im happy to say that we can start an ask game with the characters from my books
next
Surprisingly this day was awfully ugly for such a beautiful season. Heavy rain was falling on the ground creating the big sheets of wall with those millions droplets that practically covered the whole view outside of the freshly cleaned window.
Tired sigh pierced the quiet, as for the household members, house only causing the weird tension to increase that was there from the early morning. Dark hair of the boy moved with him, now facing the cold, wet window.
Hyung…” Groaned the boy crashing on the couch closing the eyes in the process a little frustrated. Walking just next to him, a little taller man with bright yellow hair, looked at the dark haired one with a tired stare.
“I don’t have time Jungkook, go torture Yoongi or something.” A snort came out of the older one after the not so innocent proposition, as he kept carrying the big basket full of clothes.
And again he was alone. The youngest of the brothers, being the one who never knew what to do with his free time, wandering in the halls and every couch he could spot in their cosy house. His dark chocolate hair falling on his face, a little too long for his liking, but he was too lazy to actually do something with them.
Again that not happy groan left his lips, and wriggling similar to a child that did not get a toy he wanted, in the end forcing him to sit on the couch with a big pout. It was not normal in this household, the whole quiet and calm act, especially considering the residents he shared the home with.
They are more similar to animals than gentelems that appreciate a quiet time. So the weird atmosphere was definitely an unsettling thing for the youngest.
Again looking at the dark view outside the window, he tried to see the cause of all of this. Completely as if something was meant to happen, like the quiet before the storm.
And let me tell you, Jungkooks 6th sense never fails. Just as he thought that maybe just maybe this time he was wrong, a ring echoed in the whole household.
“Someone is gonna open it?!” He shouted being too irritated to even do it himself, despite being the closest to the doors.
Of course, nobody answered. So angry he was at this moment he got up from a nice cozy couch and with heavy steps he came to the big chunk of the wood.
He opened the door not that gently, mumbling an annoyed “what?”
So how irritated he got when he saw nothing, a void, the same doorstep and gate that stood there everyday, now with a big wall of rain to spice up the view. He looked around, now a little confused, while thinking that maybe someone was in the mood for jokes. But how stupid the idea of that was when he remebered, that for his hundreds years of living in this world the first time that actually someone managed to make fun of him was today.
And oh god he started to get so pissed.
So imagine how shocked he was when just before he closed the door he heard a really unusual sound coming from his feets. Unhappy sobs rang in the quiet afternoon immediately attracting his attention.
The young vampire was more than shocked, looking at the child in the pille of pastel colored blankets. Small sobs now increased in a big crocodile's tears with disturbing sounds of the kids crying.
“”No, no, no, please be quiet, we don’t want to wake up the old, ugly, moody grandpa. do we?” He panicked, whispering the words to the child that now laid in his arms. He just prayed that the actual old vampire really didn't take up because of the cries.
As the kid started to calm down, he stared at it with an unreadable emotion. It was a weird feeling, holding the delicate creature in his arm, knowing that just one wrong move, and the child would never cry again.
So what was that feeling that stirred down his stomach as the little creature grabbed his finger with a big open mouth. The sick emotion only made him panic even more, while looking back inside the house.
He decidied,. Sneaking was nothing new for his ninja move, and he strongly believed in his skills of not getting caught with a surprise in his arms. In the end the spiderman socks were a good choice, as their soft material made nearly no sound on the floor.
His stress level went higher with each step that brought him closer to the room that he knew he could not miss. The sound of a knife and cutting rung in his ears is similar to the music in horror music he likes to watch, now making him understand a feeling of pure fear.
Eyes closed while praying that the blonde man won’t turn around catching him in his act. But how wrong he was to believe in such a miracle. Nothing and absolutely gets past Kim Seokjin.
“Jeon Jungkook…” He died, completely freezing in place. Not opening his eyes he waited thinking that maybe it was just his head messing with him, and the blonde boy never actually turned to him. “What have you done again. If I need to clean the mess once again from the ketchup, I'm not going to…”
And as Jungkook thought that nothing can go worse, the little chil laughed a happy giggle while making the grabby hands for his bracelet.
“Jungkook?...What exactly are you holding?” The question like a knife cutted the heavy atmosphere in half. The silence just after that louder than everything he has heard before. He was even sure that he felt his nonexisting heart stopping. “Did you fucking steall a child?! I can’t be…”
“No! It’s not like that I swear I found it on our doorstep.”
“Do you really think think I am that stupid? How even the child could just appear there hm? Rolled there or better flyed on its plush unicorn?”
“Hyung, please you are going to wake up others.” He didn’t even hesitate to beg, looking at the blonde with such terrified eyes. The child in his arms happily munching on his bracelet completely unaware of the tension.
“Why would I care about others! You brought a child Jungkook, how can i be calm!?”
Dark haired unconsciously looked around with gritted teeth, now just waiting for the rest to appear. And he did not need to wait long, as just after he looked back at the blonde, someone came from the other side of the kitchen door.
Tall man with peachy hair and raspy voice, trying to get rid of the rest of his sleep, now scratching his head with confused expressions. Who wouldn’t be confused in this place, seeing a literal child in a house full of old vampires.
“What is this mess all about? You know what hour it is?” Said the tallest one. Blondie one only snorted as if offended while crossing his arms. “What?”
“Nothing.” Oldest mumbled irritated. The tallest only raised his brow, and repeated the question once again. Jungkook being now forgotten with the child trying to catch his attention with little sounds. “You dare to remind me of the hour?! Do you know how many nights I didn’t sleep because of you! If I just could silence you for good, you would have long ago ended like the voldemort, yes i'm talking about that nose of yours”
The taller one immediately touched his nose gasping not believing in what he just heard, now trying to silently disappear from the harash stare of his older brother.
As the peach hired one hid behind a counter, the attention now came back to the snaking Jungkook. More pairs of footsteps rang in the quietness of the home, slowly showing other people.
“Jin-hyung is angry again? What happened I want to see.” Announced the newcomer, sliding on his perfectly white socks.
“Who is angry here?! You want to see how angry I can be you...you…”
“You silly goose?”
“No that's to lame.”
“Dipshit?”
“You dipshit! Thank you Namjoon.” He finished with a red face. The newcomer only rolled his eyes, while making the shortest of the brothers that came with him laugh.
“Since everyone is here…” The tallest started.
“Wait, where is Yoongi.” Asked the red haired one, while leaning on the counter with a mysteriously made coffee.
“Here.” All of them shouted, hearing the sudden voice, and seeing the new person that appeared with a lightning of thunder. “So what’s this mess about?”
Everyone in the room simultaneously looked at the dark haired boy that immediately stopped in his tracks hoping for some power that could help him disappear. All the eyes slowly drifted down his arms, now staring at a bundle of blankets that started to move as if it knew of the attention.
“What is that?” Asked the tallest looking straight at the irritated blonde.
“Don’t ask me, I’m not the one that gives such a stupid example, making those idiots steal children.”
The kitchen is now again quiet, all the eyes on the little creature in the arms of the youngest. Only sound now being the child starting to sob again, making everyone tense.
“Shut it up you morons.” Said second oldest, annoyed at the loud cries. The blonde didn’t waste time, knowing how bad noise is for the black haired. Small body now shuddering because of the sobbing making the oldest coo at the little child.
His arms soon hold the bundle of blanket, trying to calm the kid down with his baby voice. It wasn’t hard to get lost in its eyes, them being mysterious and full of innocence, drawing up the blonde one. His big hand now on its red cheek, trying to feel the texture of the soft skin under his fingers.
And as the cries never happened, the child started giggling again trying to grab Seokjin hands with such a beautiful smile. It was a really soft sight to see making them all calm and giddy inside. But as the child opened its mouth Seokjin's smiles disappeared.
“What the matter?” Asked Namjoon a little bit taken aback by the change of his hyungs mood. The oldest only looked back at the rest of them with a terrified expression.
“It's a human.”
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