#i still want to watch 'crew' one of these days

[love-takes-work]

Streamily.com Presents: The Steven Universe Cast Reunion Q&A Part 1

Here's a complete overview of the Q&A that was put on by Streamily, hosted by Elijah ("Not-So-Average Fangirl"), featuring Rebecca Sugar as the showrunner/creator, Deedee Magno Hall as Pearl, Lo (formerly known as Charlyne Yi) as Ruby, Estelle as Garnet, Susan Egan as Rose Quartz/Pink Diamond, Tom Scharpling as Greg Universe, Michaela Dietz as Amethyst/Famesthyst, and Larissa Gallagher as Bluebird Azurite. Read below to find out about a secret scrapped episode, Rebecca's comment on how to look at Rose Quartz, and lots of hilarious commentary from the cast about the experience of voicing characters on Steven Universe.

When the stream opened, everyone did their introductions:

Rebecca said they created the show.

Deedee said she played Pear. LOL, then said Pearl.

Lo said they played Ruby.

Susan said I play Rose . . . (with a cringe) and Pink.

Tom said "I was Greg, and I still am Greg, I guess."

Michaela: "Famethyst for life baby!"

Larissa played Bluebird, and a little bit like the character, she pops up when you don't expect it!

Estelle was not on the call at the very beginning but joined shortly after the questions began.

Here are the questions and the participants' answers!

Q: There were so many messages in SU. Which one do you hope viewers keep with them the most?

A (Rebecca): Rebecca learned to trust themself in being the authority about who they are. They were a bit rocky on this issue when the show began in their twenties, and learned they needed to be true to the art they made. That was reflected in the characters too. They hope people watching will learn to trust in themselves too, in the face of other people trying to tell you who you are.

Q: For Deedee Magno Hall: Pearl grew and changed in the show. How did it feel playing her in the first few episodes vs. the last few?

A (Deedee): There was no way for Deedee to know Pearl's journey when she started voicing her. She relied on Rebecca and the Crew to learn how to voice Pearl. The group had been talking about the pilot before they jumped onto the call, and Deedee says if she had listened side by side to what Pearl sounded like in the Pilot and what she ended up sounding like at the end, Pearl (along with character growth), vocally got exaggerated--it was Deedee's voice but really "went there"! Pearl felt so many feels. Deedee hopes she executed it well direction-wise. What a blast to play Pearl! And to see the growth in her character! It was fun and a challenge, and Deedee was grateful!

Q: For Michaela Dietz: Amethyst is silly and chaotic usually--what did Michaela pull from for the more emotional and serious moments?

A (Michaela): Many of the more emotional moments are about figuring out origins (the Kindergarten, etc.). Michaela is a transracial / transnational adoptee, so she pulled from that and was looking for her birth family while they were recording the Kindergarten episode. That was an easy well to tap. The growth that Amethyst had over the course of the series and movie and Future, Michaela feels like it parallels her relationship with the other actors and their characters. She's grateful to have made so many friends and is so happy to have learned so much from Rebecca (she joked about calling Rebecca "Reba").

Q: Question for all: If you could hang out with your character for one day, what would you do?

A (Rebecca): Steven is based on their brother, so they would love to spend time with Steven. It was challenging through Covid to not spend time with Steven. They always make time for Steven. They love spending time with people who played the characters! They never got to have a wrap party because of Covid! They were together for 8 years and they still want to have a belated wrap party. They would also love to spend time with Ruby (the self-insert character) and they love spending time with Lo too. Then they said "I need to be stopped because I'll go through every person."

Announcement: Estelle just joined!

Belatedly, the mod asks Estelle's question: Garnet is such an iconic character. Did Estelle know she was a Fusion from the beginning?

A (Estelle): No. She was the big grown Gem who took care of the others. She found out in real time with the cast when she did the recording. She was surprised by the lines in real time and had to calm herself down to record each line. She felt it was an honor.

Back to the "all: question of what each would do if they could hang out with their character.

A (Deedee), misunderstanding the question: If she could hang out with characters, would do tae bo with Garnet, get french fries with Steven, and have a karaoke and dance party with Amethyst.

A (Lo): When they were in kindergarten they would spit all over a tree and try to cover it with their spit. If they hung out with Ruby, they would ask for Ruby's help spitting on trees. There would be lots of hugging, punching pillows, etc. The moderator Elijah thinks fan artists will have fun with that.

A (Estelle): If she hung out with Garnet, she would ask Garnet to give her all the future information. She would want to borrow her "future vision goggles" too and want to know the future.

A (Tom): He would just drive around with Greg and listen to records. Go eat more. And end up going bowling.

A (Michaela): She would eat trash with Amethyst (and also some quality food?). They would mess around the San Gabriel Valley, get meal after meal, maybe buy an illegal turtle? No, that's not funny. They might hit up Ruby and spit on trees. Take in some underground wrestling. Amethyst is very intensely chill, and Michaela thinks they could do a great many things together.

A (Larissa): Going from intensely chill to intensely chaotic. She wants to bring it down from chaos and go ride Lion on the beach, with Bluebird carrying swords.

A (Susan): She wants to go into Rose's room to unpack. Pearl would need to be with her to Marie Kondo the situation. Then she would throw on a Universe shirt and hit music festivals.

Deedee realizes she misunderstood the question and wants to add: if she hung out with Pearl they would do laundry and some spring, summer, winter, and fall cleaning. Definitely Marie Kondo-ing the whole universe together.

Q for Susan Egan: Rose turned out to be a very complex character. As the story progressed and more about her was revealed, did Susan's approach to voicing her change?

A (Susan): She can't sing the praises of Rebecca enough: Susan didn't know at all what Rose's deal was. She got some hate comments when it was revealed that she was Pink, and she LOVED that because it meant the fans were invested. She was as shocked as everyone else. Pink was aging in reverse; Rose was wise and flawed, and then Susan would be voicing Pink and had to be petulant and immature, and she's thankful for Rebecca's direction in getting that right.

Q for Lo: Ruby is adorable. We got to meet so many versions of her. Other than Garnet's Ruby, which Ruby was Lo's favorite to play, and why?

A (Lo): They loved playing Navy. They got to be hammy. They ask if you know how when you order stuff at the drive-thru and you become that? They don't know why. It felt good. While voicing Ruby, they got to get in touch with how angry they were. Being seen as an Asian woman, it was nice to have a spot to channel that anger, and being Navy is like making fun of who you have to become when you're a people-pleaser. "I LOVE DIRT!"

Q for Tom Scharpling: Greg is an eccentric but loving father. What was Tom's favorite part of playing him and does he have a favorite scene?

A (Tom): Doing Greg was so fun. It's not Tom but it's more him than he thought all along. He had never done voice stuff before this, so he went in completely new. A script would say "walla walla" but he thought he was supposed to say "walla walla." Everybody laughed at him. He knew literally nothing about proper voice acting. So he got to really try and work at it. It was so satisfying to get to better at it. Anything from "Mr. Greg" was the big one in terms of a memorable episode. It was the best time.

Q for Larissa Gallagher: Bluebird Azurite is quite a menace. Did she listen to the individual Ruby and Aquamarine voice acting for inspiration?

A (Larissa): Yes. The script said Bluebird was Cockney, so she already knew what to aim for, but it turned out that taking those inspirations from the two characters she's made of would have led to this kind of voice naturally.

Q for All: Where do you each of the participants think their character is now and what are they doing?

A (Rebecca): To the cast, they know what the characters are up to post-show, but they can't say, it's too canonical.

A (Deedee): Says she doesn't know what canonical means. Pearl is probably doing more laundry and working on an album.

A (Lo): They guess they're just . . . fused. (Perhaps separating for scouting?) They might play Ruby Rider but not alone anymore. Interdependence, learning how to ground; Lo is not really sure how to answer since they feel like Ruby would spend most of her time as Garnet.

A (Estelle): She doesn't know. She figures Garnet sees what was gonna happen and just said "mmm." Just chilling. Even when she's fighting she has to be chill with the fighting-related grunting. She got direction to "flatline" her acting. She found it pretty natural though.

A (Tom): Greg is probably right where everything started again. Maybe working at a GameStop. Maybe he owns a bowling alley now. When asked what Greg would name it, he replies "Strikes and Spares."

A (Michaela): Amethyst would randomly get rich with Bitcoin and is retired. Maybe she would play Taiwanese Mahjong. Living a great retired life.

A (Larissa): Bluebird would be plotting and scheming and planning. Probably on a big planning board.

A (Susan): If Rose and/or Pink exists on any level, the only appropriate thing for her to be up to is community service. Like cleaning up trash at the bowling alley? Susan thinks it's time to start having a positive impact.

Q for Rebecca Sugar: Were there any scenes that ended up on the cutting room floor that you wish you could have included?

A (Rebecca): There was a bunker episode that they spent weeks on trying to crack; they wish they'd finished it. Ronaldo had a doomsday bunker. Sadie and Lars were trapped in it (with Steven). There's no way to leave. They were working on it so long and just couldn't make it work but they were determined to (maybe a little bit of the sunk cost fallacy!).

But usually the things that got left on the floor ended up evolving and changing into something different, even if they were really attached to the original idea. The idea for "Barn Mates" was originally that Sadie and Lapis would be the roommates with Sadie going to college. They feel that the Sadie story they ended up actually using was great. They love what they ended up doing with Lapis too.

In the very earliest version of "Giant Woman," Steven was going to unfuse into the two parts of him. And his "perfect" form, the big glowing muscular adult-looking Steven, was a Season 1 idea, and they didn't use him until Future. (After all, our roly-poly Steven is perfect!)

Now there are some fan-submitted questions. Their usernames are included.

Q for Deedee Magno Hall, from Makittuu: In what ways is Pearl special to you?

A (Deedee): She feels like a broken record, but she says again she was grateful to be voicing someone with the same natural voice as she had, and she had always wanted to be able to sing in a cartoon. She loves that she got to sing in the show. Pearl was the first major voice acting role that she had ever done and there's no way she would have known what the show was going to become and how successful it would be. She was auditioning for everything and was new to voice acting at the time. But one thing that she loved about voicing Pearl is that she got to share the experience with her kids. She connected the love Pearl had for Steven with the love she had for her sons. When she started voicing Pearl her kids were 2 and 8. For them to be able to watch Steven Universe on TV and hear Mommy's voice was so cool to share with her family. Now her kids are 13 and 19!

Q for Estelle, from Gonosoi: Do you have any fun stories from recording your lines on the show?

A (Estelle): When she was going through things in her life--and she thinks this is true no matter where you are or how you identify--the show somehow could speak to whatever she was going through. The lines would often be relevant. She'd come in with sunglasses on because it was early for her and her voice would be low. She'd be crying behind her glasses in difficult moments. She liked a fresh first take instead of knowing ahead of time what she'd be reading, so she didn't read the script ahead of time. She was surprised by needing to do the "ugh" and "ah" noises in different ways. It'd be difficult vocally. With Michaela, Zach, and Deedee, in between the lines and reading things together, hearing them switch back and forth between talking about life and then doing their recordings, it was so cool to see them do their work.

Q for Michaela Dietz, from Mal: Which one of your other characters would get along well with Amethyst?

A (Michaela): Definitely Vee from The Owl House. Maybe Maj'el from Star Trek Prodigy. She would be so "What is this purple being? Why do you eat? Where does the food go?" She'd be fascinated with Amethyst. And Michaela feels like Amethyst would thrive and try to do weird stuff in response. The shapeshifting she has in common with Vee. They'd get up to some trouble. Fun trouble. Harmless trouble. (Another fanart cue!)

Q for Susan Egan, from Gladde: Does Susan feel that Rose forgot about Spinel? Does she think she wanted to go back?

A (Susan): Susan thinks a lot was forgotten in her mind when she became Rose. Rose was so enamored of what's in front of her in every moment; she lives in the moment and can be a good quality but obviously Susan didn't know all of that when she was recording! Steven Universe is her kids' favorite thing she's done. Rebecca?

A (Rebecca): So much of the show is about how--something that was ultimately captured in the end credits song-- when you don't think of yourself as someone with power, Pink had less power than everyone around her, and she didn't know how much she mattered to others. She did things to them that she didn't think twice about because her importance to others didn't register. Feeling that she didn't matter, it radiated out. To her--her relationship with Spinel, Spinel was a toy to her. When she got a chance to grow up, she thought it made sense to leave Spinel behind. Pink is actually a softened version of what she was originally planned to be like. The sympathetic side of that and her self deprecation grew as they developed Pink over time. In aspiring to be a better person than she thought she was, that became who she was.

A (Susan): Rebecca brought all these characters' complexity to the table. It's easy to make things two-dimensional but people are complicated and we need to look at that in context. Good and bad can exist in the same person. She doesn't want Rose to always want to think about being Pink, but she thinks it helped her want to save more characters as Rose.

A (Rebecca): Rebecca likes to think of the Pink Diamond / Rose character as a cautionary tale.

Q for Lo, from stiffcorpse00: What kind of dates would Ruby and Sapphire go on?

A (Lo): Axe-throwing. They reference walking through doors and accidentally crashing into the frame, and they say "That's me." So they wouldn't do axe-throwing personally. Maybe Ruby and Sapphire would get some boba. Go walking. Teach Ruby how to float in water back because anger makes Ruby sink. Helping Ruby get anger out by screaming into pillows. Swinging one way and the other way.

Michaela suggests they could go to a rage room.

Lo objects that they're so expensive, and that they could just break stuff without needing to pay for it.

Susan suggests it'd be a writeoff because it's for work.

Lo says they'll go there and take a date.

Michaela says the experience is exhausting and therefore you don't need much time there.

Lo says a Ruby and Sapphire date involving paintball would be great, but everyone would run from Sapphire. Ruby's rage would get in the way. Sapphire would coldly get everyone.

There is more discussion of smashing fax machines and glass etc. in a rage room. Deedee asks "What is a fax machine?"

Q for Tom Scharpling, from GalixyYouniverse: What was his reaction to Greg getting his hair cut and was he upset?

A (Tom): He was fine with it. He was always coming from a different place than everyone else. His change would be getting rich or getting a haircut. Everyone else's was huge and cosmic. Anything with Greg, he related to Greg more than he should admit to.

Rebecca points out they have like drawings from 2013 with Greg with short hair. Sacrificing hair in a battle is something they always wanted to do.

Q for Larissa Gallagher from 1F4cnt4ND: How does she think Aquamarine and Ruby met and what was it like when they fused?

A (Larissa): She says it was a little bit mean to put her after Tom answering about the hair cut! But she doesn't know. If she had to say anything, it'd be existential. When you meet someone and you get that ball of energy inside you and you don't know whether it's good or bad--you don't know what's going to happen but something will happen. She likes to think that's the kind of energy that evolved. It didn't go in the most helpful emotional way but it was that moment attraction that no one can explain. Rebecca?

A (Rebecca): They had discussed in the writers room what Steven's influence is on Homeworld, how there'd be all these Gems on the wrong side of history, whether they were high status like Aquamarine or low like Eyeball, they'd pool into an out-group and meet to be frustrated about it. They'd been working on something that made sense before Steven changed the rules. Different types of fusions / collaborations and one born out of frustration and spite was one they wanted on the show.

Q for all participants, from trynottohappen: What was the hardest scene to record?

A (Susan): The first thing she did as Rose was the VHS tape. The monologue was her first time playing a mother, and it spoke to her heart. Like Michaela looking for her biological parents, there's something the character can teach you. Susan had to pull herself together after reading it--she needed to be joyful about her progeny coming. It makes her weep even today. It was one of her favorite things. She loved recorded with Deedee, and loved the love between them, the betrayal of Rose to Pearl, when we finally get to know what was really going on between them.

A (Larissa): The scene where Bluebird revealed her backstory of why they felt the way they felt. The complexity of the characters in the show, the hate isn't just "I hate because someone did this and said that." It's grounded, a real space of hurt that can never be fixed. Having to recreate that and not hate the character but love the character because of how much pain they were in. That was difficult but incredible.

A (Michaela): The hardest scenes were toward the end because she knew the show was ending. They were cherishing every moment together. In 2016, the day after the election, that was a hard day. Everybody was really distraught. There was a group hug at the end. In a time of such uncertainty, it gave her so much solace to know they had each other and they had art, they had ways of expressing themselves, that day sticks out.

A (Tom): For him, the songs were difficult. He would get sent a demo Rebecca recorded the night before, he's driving into NYC from New Jersey and listening to the song for hours all morning so he'd have it in his head, and then would be so nervous doing the songs because he didn't want the whole recording to be just him going word by word, line by line. The songs were the big thing he was hung up on. He'd try to do the songs first, then the spoken lines, and then the things where he yelled--he'd end up screaming sometimes and he'd not have a voice left. He wanted to do right by these very special songs. He jokes that Rebecca said he let them down over and over. (Rebecca denies.)

A (Estelle): She doesn't remember many hard moments. She'd attribute that to Rebecca's direction. She took a laid-back approach. The grunts and noises weren't familiar but also weren't difficult for her. She'd drink tea after. Real life would be happening but they always had each other in their bubble.

A (Lo): The Ruby Rider episode was the most fun and the hardest. They always wanted to play a cowboy! They were also going through a divorce during the recording. It was tough leading up to marrying Sapphire, delivering the lines, and they started crying because the opposite was happening in their life. And then they got direction to be more emotional even though they were crying. They said their voice was dead inside even though they were quite emotional. They're shy in the booth. Lo felt sweaty and weird doing the acting in front of other people, feeling awkward, and this is the first time they had to be a voice actor. This was THE WORST playing multiple characters during the baseball episode.

Michaela was so impressed with Lo having to be "like 800 characters."

Lo comments that doing 5 voices around other people as a neurodivergent person was so difficult.

A (Deedee): She loved receiving the demo recordings before having to sing a song. One of her favorite things was the singing. She wants the album of all Rebecca's demos. She remembers getting a script Monday to prepare and record on Wednesday. She heavily depended on the voice director and Rebecca. The really wordy scripts were difficult for Deedee with "ten-dollar words." The screaming was also really difficult. (She'd also do singing at the beginning, speaking in the middle, screaming at the end.)

A (Rebecca): Instead answering what scene was the hardest to write, they say there are so many. Because it was storyboard-driven, the script was in flux until it was animated, and they'd still be working with dialogue. With the potluck, when Lars doesn't show, Sadie has dialogue as she's walking down the street talking about Lars. They did a thousand drafts of it. With Sadie's story, there's a matryoshka of struggling with self-esteem while commenting on other people's self-esteem. There was a long path to get Steven to step into his mom's shoes. The biggest thing was tracking the ongoing storyline in a storyboard-driven show. Rose's speech was pored over as well. They wanted it to be layered and make more sense as you learn more about her. Does this line encapsulate everything you're going to learn about this character 60 episodes from now?

Q from CaughtMoonlight: If each of them could play any other Gem, who would it be?

A (Susan): Everyone wants to be Garnet, but could never!

A (Larissa): Ditto. 100%. Also, not a Gem, but she wants to be Lion.

A (Michaela): Peridot. All the way.

A (Tom): He says he can't do that and he's just a slob doing the voice of a slob. These things are all out of his reach.

A (Estelle): She'd go with turbocharged Peridot. She says the things that are in Garnet's brain. She'd get spicy with it.

A (Lo): Lo would choose Greg. They say he's not a slob. The world should be more relaxed and accessible.

Tom says he doesn't mean slob in a bad way. But he owns his slobbiness.

A (Deedee): Hard question! She loved voicing Pearl and all the Pearls. Everybody else, it would be so hard to voice. No comment.

A (Rebecca): Early on they decided to take a back seat and not cast themself. They loved being in the director role. They put a lot of themself into SO many characters. That let them have a presence in everyone. One thing they're really grateful for, but their former boarder Adam Muto on Adventure Time, they got to voice Marceline's mother. The composers aivi and surasshu asked them to sing "Love Like You" because it's really a reflection of so many characters that they got to write.

Q for All: They are asked to share their projects and socials.

A (Rebecca): Working on things they can't talk about yet. Last year they released an independent album. Years ago Estelle said Rebecca should tour. Susan said kind things. Lo texts songs back and forth. They would not have been able to make that album without that encouraging. Tom had them on the radio show. So humbling. Spiral Bound is a little EP and they're so grateful. They'd love to do more stuff like that.

A (Deedee): She loves the album. She is doing some recurring voices for Kiff on the Disney channel, and singing praise and worship at church.

A (Lo): They're playing Larry in StuGo who's shirtless and gender fluid on Disney. They want everyone to know sunsets are awesome. Catch them while you can to chase away depression.

A (Estelle): She has a new album coming out early next year, with two singles out now. The music is uplifting. And there's the Estelle Show (on Apple radio!). She's just living her best life.

A (Tom): The Best Show/podcast is still on every week. He started writing a new book--he wrote one a few years ago and thinks the one he's writing now will be done in maybe 11 years, so check it out in 2038. Just working on TV stuff and dealing with whatever happens.

A (Michaela): Exciting stuff we can't talk about. It's tangerine season! Trees going off! Been harvesting.

A (Larissa): Just got back from Japan. Trying to get back there. Video games are coming out but she can't talk about it. She is working on a startup called Ethovox, trying to protect voice actors int he age of AI. Larissa got so much fandom just from doing Bluebird for two minutes! She's so grateful for that.

A (Susan): She produces live concert content for Disney worldwide. She loves being behind the scenes and creating jobs for others and bringing joy. They've been in 18 countries! She wrote shows for the Hollywood Bowl.

Part Two comes out November 18, 2024! You can get signed prints at Streamily!

[yanderedrabbles]

Sunk and Gone

Yandere! Gangster x Mafia Boss! Reader

Fluff, needy yandere, age difference, slightly suggestive content

He was just some dumb kid who played with fire.

Before he knew it, he was getting his ass kicked by the real deal, the big time guys.

He dropped your name out of pure desperation. He had no clue who you were really. He just wanted to save his own skin.

He never expected you to actually show up.

In your white tailored suit, you were like some mafioso guardian angel.

You tilted his chin up to face you and he couldn't bear to meet your eyes. You were goddamn terrifying.

"This little punk says he's one of mine?"

You lazily blew your cigar smoke into his face. It was black cherry, high class stuff. He can still remember the taste of it on his tongue, the way it made his whole body tingle.

He thought he was done for. You were probably gonna set your own guys on him for dropping names he had no business knowing.

He never expect you to save him.

His beat down gurus were cussing up a storm, saying he practically maimed one of their guys, he wouldn't even be able to walk for a week.

What bullshit. The most he did was give the guy a shiner before he was getting his own ass kicked.

You smiled at him then, like you knew exactly how much crap they were spewing.

You nodded and your guys threw a fat stack of cash on the table. All 100s. God, there must have been at least 5k just sitting there.

You hauled him to his feet and that's when he realised you were stronger than you looked too.

"Why?"

He barely even managed to ask that.

You were trying to light a new cigar and get back in your fancy car, but your lighter was just throwing up sparks.

He found himself reaching into his pocket and pulling out his shitty gas station lighter. He struck a flame and held it out to you.

You leaned in and caught his eyes for the second time that night. The flame was dancing in your eyes and you looked just like the devil.

He was sunk right then and there and he knew it.

He showed up outside your office everyday, waiting with his lighter clasped in his sweaty palm.

Everyday without fail, you would give him a chance to light one of your smokes for you.

"Don't you got someplace better to be kid?"

"No ma'am."

And he kept doing it, rain or shine or snow. On bad days, he'd bring his umbrella and unfurl it for you before you even stepped out of the car.

"You shouldn't keep hanging around kid. It ain't safe."

"I know ma'am."

He stayed, despite the dirty looks from the gangsters, despite the way they bumped into him hard enough to bruise. He stayed, stubborn as a goddamn mule, until you gave up on getting rid of him.

"I got a job for you kid."

"Anything you ask ma'am."

Oh he was a sucker for you. You had him hook, line and sinker without even trying.

And he worked hard. Running errands and then pushing drugs and then beating down the folks you set him loose on. There weren't any limits anymore, no line he wouldn't cross for you.

After a while, you let him in your guard rotation. And he was in bliss. He watched you constantly.

Hell, he couldn't take his eyes off you even if he wanted to. The capo himself said he was impressed with his diligence.

"Come here kid. You ever had oysters before?'

"No ma'am."

You were in one of your favourite restaurants, finishing up your meal and just drunk enough to have given yourself a pretty flush across your cheeks.

You made him lean toward you and gripped his chin before tilting the oyster into his mouth. It was salty and soft and his mind was going awful dirty awful fast.

After that he would order oysters whenever he could. He could almost feel your fingers on his skin when he ate them.

And soon he was part of your interrogation crew. His shirt sleeves rolled up and his forearms splattered with blood. He was putting on muscle now too and his punch hurt worse than a hammer to the face.

One unlucky son of a bitch made the mistake of insulting you right in front of him. God help him, when the anger cleared, the man's face was nothing more than pulp.

And you were watching him. One arm crossed under your breasts with the other balanced on it, a cigarette held up to your lips.

"You're a real good guard dog, you know that kid?"

"Thank you ma'am."

The next time you summoned him, you were in your office. Your heels were off and your legs were crossed, your stockings showing off the curves of your feet.

"Grab that pen for me."

It was on the floor under a side table and he had to get down on his knees to get it. When he moved to stand, you interrupted him.

"Don't get up. But bring it here."

"Yes ma'am."

He was grinning like a dog in heat. He put the pen in between his teeth and crawled on his hands and knees to you.

He sat at your feet like a goddamn puppy, his boner so fucking hard he thought it would rip through his trousers.

You cupped his chin in your palm and looked down at him. From down here, your legs looked a mile long and he wanted to lick every inch.

"You're such a loyal little thing, you know that?"

"Ysss mmm."

It was muffled because he still had that fucking pen in his mouth. And he was damn thankful for it too. Without something to bite onto, he was sure he'd actually be panting.

You took it carefully out of his mouth. A string of saliva followed it and you twitched your thumb across his lips to break the connection.

"Good boy."

You turned away from him, shaking the pen off a little and getting back to the books you were balancing.

He whimpered.

He actually fucking whimpered.

You smirked a little at that and shooed him away with one perfectly manicured hand. He dragged his feet walking out of there, his boner killing all higher thinking. Just hoping and praying you would call him back.

He turned to look at you before he closed the door. You had your face resting in one hand and you were tapping the pen against your lips with the other. Your eyes were entirely focused on your books.

He was your loyal dog. Now and always.

And he felt it all over again. He was sunk - hook, line and sinker.

[queenshelby]

The Peaky Role (Part Nine)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Best Friend's Dad, Some Smut

Please comment and engage!

After spending an extended weekend in Dublin, you stepped into the familiar set again, the echo of footsteps fading into the buzz of production chatter.

The air hummed with energy, the walls adorned with bright lights and intricate props, but today you felt detached.

You had just broken up with your boyfriend after four years of simmering frustration, and the relief mixed with sadness stirred in your chest.

You felt like you had wasted your time with James and this was what hurt you the most.

“Hey,” Cillian’s voice cut through the noise as he approached, those deep blue eyes of his scrutinizing you with an unsettling familiarity.

You plastered on a smile. “Hey Cills, how are you?" you asked, hoping your voice sounded steadier than you felt.

“Not bad,” he replied, eyeing you carefully. “You?" he asked, but sensing that his question barely scratched the surface.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, forcing a laugh. “Just another day on set, right?”

He didn’t buy it. “You don’t look fine,” he said, tilting his head slightly as if trying to peer through the mask you wore.

You shrugged, trying to dismiss his concern. “Well, I am fine enough and, honestly, I don't want to delve into it right now.”

Cillian narrowed his eyes, one eyebrow twitching upwards, his expression a blend of skepticism and genuine care. “You know, sometimes it helps to talk. I’m here if you want to...”

You shook your head, forcing a light-hearted tone. “You’d just get bored listening to my silly problems.”

“Hardly,” he replied, his voice lowering slightly, creating an almost conspiratorial just as the director called for you.

"Your scene is up next,” the director said, waving you over as he paced between the crew and the set. You exchanged a quick glance with Cillian, who offered an encouraging nod before heading back to what he was doing,

As you walked to the set, the weight settled heavier on your shoulders, a reminder of the lingering emotions swirling within you.

Luckily for you, the scenes scheduled for today were simple and straightforward, requiring little more than the scripted banter. You took a breath, adjusting your focus as you prepared for the scene with one of the other actors while Cillian looked on from the distance.

He could see that something was off. Your delivery felt flat, the lines slurring together without the usual spark of life. The actor next to you glanced your way, concern flickering across his features.

“Hey, you alright?” he asked, lowering his voice as the crew set the cameras.

You forced another smile. “Yeah, just a little tired. You know how it is.”

“Sure,” he replied before stepping back as the director called for action again.

“Alright! Let’s roll!” The command sliced through the air, and the familiar hum of the set drowned out the chatter in your mind and, after a few takes, you still managed to pull it off.

Cillian leaned against a nearby wall, his gaze fixed on you, rapt attention painted on his face as he watched the scene unfold. His presence both grounded and unsettled you, simmering underneath your skin. You could almost feel the weight of his gaze, prompting you to deliver each line with precision. The scene ended, and appreciation echoed from the crew.

“Nice work!” the director called out when the scene was wrapped up, clapping his hands together as he walked over.

"Thanks," you replied, though your voice felt distant, barely floating above the whirlpool of thoughts in your mind.

In that moment, Cillian, who had been watching, stepped forward too, an approving smirk stretched across his face. “You nailed that, despite... whatever’s bothering you.”

“Thanks,” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

“So, uhm, what are your plans for dinner tonight?” Cillian’s question cut through the haze of your thoughts, an anchor in the roiling sea of emotion.

You chuckled, a hint of sarcasm lacing your voice. “Instant noodles probably," you stated, your eyes rolling with mock disdain.

“Ah, the gourmet life continues,” Cillian teased, a playful grin presiding over those handsome features.

“Living the dream,” you replied with a dramatic sigh, leaning against a nearby prop like it was a lifeline.

Cillian chuckled, crossing his arms. “How about I save you from a dinner of noodles again and whip something up instead? You look like you can use the company."

The offer lingered in the air, and for a moment, all thoughts of James and the earlier turbulence dissipated. You raised an eyebrow, surprised yet intrigued.

"Are you serious? You want to cook for me? Again?" you eventually asked, a smirk creeping onto your lips.

Cillian shrugged, his confidence unwavering. “Well, I am kind of cooking for myself but you are welcome to join," he said, making it sound as casual as discussing the weather.

“Alright then, I accept,” you replied, unable to suppress a grin before turning your back to the set, the prospect of a dinner with Cillian somehow pulling you away from the chaos of the day.

Once the shoot wrapped, you went back to your place to get changed before making your way to Cillian’s apartment.

Arriving with a bottle of red wine in hand, you felt a flutter of nerves twist in your stomach as you knocked on the door. Having dinner like this, alone, with your best friend's father, felt somewhat absurd.

Cillian opened the door with that effortless charm of his, deep blue eyes sparkling with warmth.

“You made it,” he said, stepping aside to let you in. The aroma of garlic and herbs wrapped around you like a comforting embrace.

“I brought a bottle of red wine. I hope that’s not too weird and inappropriate,” you said, holding it up with a half-hearted laugh.

Cillian waved a hand, dismissing your concern as he took the bottle from your grasp.

“Not weird at all," he said, his smile widening as he uncorked the bottle with practiced ease. “In fact, I appreciate the gesture. It will pair perfectly with my culinary masterpiece.”

You couldn't help but chuckle at his statement, knowing that he was trying to be funny.

“Culinary masterpiece, huh?” you teased, leaning against the kitchen counter, watching as he poured the wine into two glasses, a delicate swirl of crimson capturing the light.

Cillian shot you a playful glance over his shoulder. “Oh yes, just wait until you see my famous spaghetti al pomodoro. A classic, really,” he said, his voice dripping with mock-seriousness as he turned back to the stove, stirring the bubbling pot with a flair that echoed his charm.

“Can you say this again?" you laughed, mocking his pretend Italian accent when he said it.

Cillian laughed, a rich, warm sound that wrapped around you like a cozy blanket.

“Spaghetti al pomodoro," he declared again, waving the wooden spoon like a conductor’s baton.

"Oh god, let's hope you never decide to portray an Italian mobster in a film," you teased, leaning back against the countertop, crossing your arms as you smirked at him.

Cillian turned to face you fully, a glimmer of mischief dancing in his eyes. “You wound me,” he replied, placing a hand on his chest, feigning injury before reaching for a red wine glass and filling it up to the brim, the ruby liquid catching the light as he raised it in a mock toast.

While enjoying your glass of wine, you watched Cillian cook with an effortless grace, each movement fluid and precise as he navigated the kitchen. The scent of simmering garlic filled the air, mingling with fresh basil, wafting toward you.

While he prepared dinner, you talked about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing with an ease that felt rare and welcomed.

iYou discussed books and music, fun topics like the latest films you had binge-watched and the classic bands you both adored.

Your mood was good now after he had made an effort to lighten it but this moment of happiness was short lived when your phone buzzed on the counter, cutting through the laughter like a thunderclap. You glanced at the screen, and instinctively, a frown swept over your features as the name “James” flashed on the screen.

Cillian noticed, his gaze shifting to the phone before landing back on your face, concern lining his features. “Everything okay?”

You snatched the phone up, a sigh escaping your lips as you swiped the screen open.

“It’s just James,” you said, dismissing it with a wave, though you felt your heart rate quicken as you willfully ignored his call.

C illian raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting to a mix of worry and curiosity. “Just James?" he asked, sensing trouble.

"I broke up with him last night,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you poured another glass of wine, trying to drown the memories in crimson liquid.

Cillian straightened, his eyes widening slightly. “Last night? Just like that?”

You shrugged, swirling the wine in your glass. “Yeah, it just didn’t feel right anymore. He was jealous, always questioning my choices, my time on set, and it felt suffocating. It's like he resented all the good things happening to me.”

Cillian leaned against the counter, his expression shifting to one of understanding, his posture losing its usual relaxed charm in favor of concern. "After what I have heard over the ye ars, I can’t say I’m surprised," he admitted, his voice gentle. "You probably are better off without someone tying you down like that because, at your age, you really deserve the freedom to chase your dreams."

With a bitter laugh, you responded, “I know, but it took me too long to realse that. I wasted four years of my life with him," you stammered, your voice more shaken now than you intended.

Cillian’s eyes softened. He tilted his head slightly, the warmth in his gaze adding a layer of comfort to the tense atmosphere. “You’re still young though and, at your age, we all make choices that we later question,” he said, his voice low and steady. “What matters is that you learn from them and move forward.”

“Easier said than done, right?” You took a deep breath, swirling the wine in your glass again, the crimson liquid catching the light. “I mean it’s hard to just move on, especially when the memories stick like glue after four years, you know?" you explained reluctantly as your eyes were tearing up, betraying your attempts to maintain composure.

Cillian stepped closer, a subtle shift that closed the distance between you. “I get it. It’s difficult to shift gears when you’ve invested so much emotionally, trust me. I've been there," he said, his honesty catching you by surprise.

You hadn’t expected him to share that side of himself and his own vulnerability stirred something deep within you.

“What you need to know, however, is that you deserve better than what you experienced with him,” Cillian said, his tone serious as he leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a softer timbre that felt intimate.

“You’re talented, smart, and you have the world at your feet. You shouldn’t let anyone hold you back from chasing what’s truly yours," he told you while placing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing your skin with a warmth that sent an unexpected shiver down your spine.

His gaze anchored you, those deep blue eyes glimmering with sincerity. You swallowed hard, caught off guard by the intensity of his stare.

“Thanks, Cillian,” you murmured, your voice barely breaking through the air thick with unspoken tension. The way his gaze held yours made your heart race, each beat a reminder of the shifting dynamics around you.

Cillian leaned back slightly, drawing his hand away but the moment lingered, electric and charged with unspoken words, thick as the aroma of the cooking dinner that now seemed to fade into the background and it was then that you did something you hadn’t planned on doing.

You stepped forward, closing the distance as if pulled by an unseen force and, just like that, your lips met Cillian's, a soft collision that felt both shocking and inevitable.

Cillian was suprised at first, his eyes widening in disbelief, yet the moment hung in the air, heavy with something unsaid. Thus, he gave in to the kiss, his initial shock melting away as his lips moved against yours.

The kiss deepened, slow and exploratory, a fleeting moment that suspended time around you.

You felt yourself melt into him, the tension of the last few days dissipating like fog under the morning sun. Cillian’s hands found their way to your waist, firm yet gentle, grounding you in a moment that felt both surreal and intoxicating.

But then, suddenly, just as it began, it ended. Cillian pulled back, a look of shock on his face as he struggled to process what had just happened.

“Wait—” he stammered, stepping back as if your kiss had burned him. “I can’t… we can’t…," he murmured, his voice trailing off into a breathless hush and, suddenly, you stood frozen, confusion swirling in your chest.

“What do you mean?” you pressed, your heart racing as the unexpected shift threw you completely off balance.

Cillian ran a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of surprise and regret. “You’re my best friend’s daughter. My daughter's best friend. I am married," he blurted out, the weight of his words crashing around you like a thunderstorm. "It's just wrong," he finished, his voice strained as he took another step back, creating an uncomfortable space between you.

You blinked, your heart thudding hard in your chest, a rush of conflicting emotions surging forth as if a dam had burst within you.

“Cillian, I—” you attempted to explain, but the words caught in your throat weighing heavy with confusion and regret. "I am sorry. I should go," you managed to say, the tremor in your voice betraying the calm façade you tried to maintain. You turned away, moving toward the door as though its exit held the answers to your storming thoughts.

Tags:

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[syrupfog]

Sometimes Usopp has nightmares.

Not ones of his mom dying— no, those are no more than a dull ache now. But nightmares of being thrown at the feet of the man who single handedly started off the worst week of his life. Made him feel useless and broken.

Franky.

Usopp doesn’t think Franky bothers to remember how they met. In the grand scheme of things, it’s not important, right? They’re on the same team now, on the WINNING team. Franky built them the best ship in the world, and even made Usopp a tribute to Merry with the mini merry.

But sometimes at night, he’s trapped in that moment again, where he’s thrown at the feet of the man who was head of the Franky Family, who looked down on him like he was dirt, and scoffed when Usopp demanded their berri back.

And it happens all over again; getting attacked, hit again and again until he feels the crack of his bones and darkness billows into his vision, until the last thing he sees is Franky, behind that iron mask he wore, looking down at Usopp with, somehow worst of all, INDIFFERENCE.

And Usopp wakes up with a gasp, clutching his heart, sweat pouring off of him, only to find Franky snoring peacefully in the bunk below him.

And somehow that. That hurts.

It shouldn’t. They’ve made amends. They’ve reconciled. Franky has time and again wept with him and for him.

But that moment started off the worst week of Usopp’s life, and Usopp cannot help but wonder if everything would’ve gone down differently if Franky’s goons hadn’t touched him. If he’d had the same time to process as everyone else, had heard the news with everyone else.

Would he have still left the crew? Fought Luffy?

The fight still haunts him. He’s always been a useless failure of a pirate, but—

Usopp’s just not sure why Luffy even let him back.

And as his thoughts spiral and his pounding heart rate slows, Usopp blinks crusted tears from his eyes and wishes, DESPERATELY wishes, that he could have just BEEN Franky from the beginning.

He’s good with his hands. Maybe if he had just started studying to be a shipwright they never would’ve gotten to that point. Franky’s all but replaced him on the ship anyway, hasn’t he? He’s like everything that Usopp is, but better.

Stumbling out of his bunk, trying and failing to be quiet about it, Usopp slinks out of the bunk room and onto the deck. It’s a night so foggy that not even the moon lights their path. The lanterns hung on either side of the door to the kitchen the only things casting hazy light.

Which is why he jumps out of his skin when Brook appears in front of him like a ghost in the night.

“Yohohoho,” Brook laughs softly. “I’m sorry to have startled you, young master Usopp! I was simply out for a midnight stroll!”

Usopp blinks. “You’re not on watch?”

“No, it is our Captain’s turn right now. He’s up in the crow’s nest. I was thinking I might play him a tune— I’m not in need of much sleep these days— but perhaps you might be in need of it a bit more than him?”

Usopp doesn’t feel in NEED of a tune. He feels in need of sticking his head in a bucket of ice water, perhaps, to get his thoughts out of the dark place they’re spiraling towards. But he doesn’t want to disappoint Brook. “Sure,” he says. “What have you got cooking up?”

Brook’s violin is out in a heartbeat— although he has no heart— and after a few tuning notes, he begins a slow, deep rendition of Bink’s Saké. Usopp recognizes the melody but Brook has managed to turn it almost into a funeral dirge. Something mournful, crying out.

He feels like he’s intruding just by listening to it.

When the song is finished, Brook seems to breathe out (can he do that?) and with his breath his whole skeleton collapses down, like a marionette with all but one of its strings cut.

“I think, sometimes,” says Brook, “that I am not worthy of being the one who survived.”

Usopp wants to jump to his defense, tell him that Brook is NEEDED and NECESSARY and they COULDN’T DO THIS WITHOUT HIM.

But he remembers how empty those words sounded in the moment as Chopper yelled them, as Usopp left the crew on Water 7. Like empty appeasing platitudes.

“I think…” Usopp says, slowly, carefully, “that worthiness isn’t something that matters, in the end.”

He’s sitting on the deck, the chill numbing his feet. Brook goes to sit, gingerly, next to him.

“I think that the only thing that actually matters are the choices you make— and not EVERY choice. But the most recent choices.” He peters off for a moment. Brook looks especially creepy in the fog. “Whatever happened that led to you being here doesn’t matter. What matters is your choice now. And tomorrow. What matters is continuing on.”

He doesn’t believe it, not really. His choices haunt him. Every lie haunts him.

“I don’t make good choices,” he concedes, looking down at his calloused hands. “But I want to. I’m trying.”

Even if he doesn’t want to keep trying, sometimes.

Brook leans back, silent as a ghost for a moment, and then, quietly, “I know you are, master Usopp. You are not as lost as you think.”

Usopp doesn’t say anything after that.

Brook doesn’t either.

The morning comes with hot sun and the pounding of feet across the deck. Usopp wakes with a crick in his neck and shade over his eyes.

He blinks, inhaling the scent of pancakes. As his vision clears, he realises he’s only able to have slept so long because a straw hat had been placed over his head, hiding his face from the worst of the morning sun.

Usopp groans.

He pulls it lower, hiding the heat in his cheeks

“It’s the choices you make today,” he tells himself. “Not the old ones. Just the ones today and tomorrow and tomorrow.”

Because maybe if he tells himself that everyday, someday he’ll even believe it.

And until then, he can lie.

[deathworlders-of-e24]

Danny, Security Chief

Part 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

<Open File>

<{Possible Security Threats}>

• Theta Raider attack; 23% likely

• Grite of the Sed

• Elizabeth Collins^

~Addendum: Liz Collins and 3 possibly hostile infant alien lifeforms she’s keeping as pets~

<{(expand file?)}>

Security Chief Danny Ducane had started keeping a list of possible risks to the Noah after the disastrous mission to MX13, off the main servers of course. He kept it on his private computer in his quarters, away from prying eyes and probes, something like a journal more than an official log.

He clicked the expansion and began to dictate:

“While the Sed man Grite has been relegated to inactive duty aboard the ship, the situation is becoming increasingly complicated. Several times I have seen the other Sed crewmen in compromising places, though it seems inauspicious to the rest of the security team. After I caught Communications Officer Soane observing me leaving the Bridge, I’ve also seen Kor and Taren, both engineers, in odd locations around the ship where there has been no request for repairs or upgrades. I’ve kept my findings to myself out of fear of accused paranoia, and my own self policing. I’m positive they’re watching me. But whether or not they have ulterior motives or are just pissed I fired their buddy, I’m still not sure. Further investigating is required.

On another note, my information request was confirmed by Admiral Townes. Despite the fact that the Noah was human made, with GAIL assistance, and that the experiment was posed by the Quintins in the first place, the Sed representative on the GAIL council apparently made a big stink about the Sed not having any command positions on board. Townes said they wanted the Captain position, Security Chief, and communications lead all filled with their own species, but the requirements weren’t met by anyone they’d selected for the mission. Therefore they just ended up as grunts under these ‘lesser’ species. Sounds like a bunch of political posturing, they got what they got and threw a fit anyway. Townes said they don’t take kindly to orders from races they deem… incompatible. So there’s that too, I guess, bigots in space. I’m just hoping we can hit the halfway mark and get relief personnel before this thing we got brewing goes nuclear. Signing off.”

Danny clicked the computer off and stretched his arms above his head, his back popping twice. Between alien encounters and solar flares, the ship was getting more… noisy. Active. Danny didn’t like it. Boring was best. Boring meant nobody was dying. He’d had had a feeling in the pit of his stomach for the last dozen cycles or so, something was coming.

And it was probably gonna piss him off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny made the bridge at 0900 hours the next morning, slapping his ball cap on his head and a cup of coffee in his hands. He nodded to the bridge crew before turning to the captain, who looked at him with his ant like head cocked to one side.

“Chief Ducane, I believe it’s your day off duty, is it not?”

“It is, yeah, but it’s not like I can leave the ship unattended. Anything could happen,” Danny said, raising his cup to gesture.

“Speaking of, anything new boss?” he asked.

“Actually yes,” Skitch said, his multifaceted eyes catching the light and glowing like an oil slick. “We got an alert about an hour ago, something breached our forward perimeter for a minute before jumping away. We think it was a ship of sorts, but the scanners couldn’t tell anything definitive before it ran away.”

Danny thought for a moment, taking a sip of coffee.

“Could be pirates,” he said finally, “but if it was an hour ago and they haven’t come back, they probably aren’t a sizable force if a ship this small scared them off. Still, I recommend putting everyone on tactical alert for the time being, just to be safe.”

Skitch nodded, antenna bobbing.

“Good idea. Now please, go rest. The medical staff told me you humans have to sleep for at least 10 hours a cycle or you don’t function correctly, and you barely get 6 with the amount of work you do.”

“Don’t worry about me Captain,” Danny said, laughing, “I’m perfectly capable of functioning on just 6 hours, even less with enough coffee.”

“Regardless, this is your assigned rest period. You’re supposed to relax today, so I don’t want to see you until the next cycle,” Skitch ordered. “You’re no good to the ship if-”

One of the consoles started beeping, cutting the Captain off. It was coming from the long range scanners, the communications officer cycling through the information as fast as she could.

“Sir, we’re picking up a distress call from the other side of the system, a merchant vessel is under attack!”

“Who is it?”

“Signal corresponds to a Muruzian ship the GAIL has on file, they’re taking fire.”

“Helmsman, set a course, best possible speed!” Skitch ordered. “Chief Ducane, your off day is canceled.”

“Way ahead of you captain,” Danny said, downing his coffee and turning his cap around. “Let’s go to work.”

Danny turn on his heel and booked off the bridge and back towards the lift. As he moved, he unclipped the comm-link from his hip and made the call:

“Attention Alpha Team, we have a situation. Body armor and weapons, meet in the hangar bay in 5 minutes. Bravo Team are on call for support and possible rescue. We are heading to aid friendlies and fuck up enemies, move your asses.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny hit the hangar bay in 4 minutes flat, even after making a stop at his quarters to grab his personal kit. Homet, Coola, Ritz, and Hayte were all there, strapping on their gear with solemn looks on their faces. Danny knew Homet had seen a firefight before, but the others had only fought in simulated battles. Danny trusted them to do their jobs, but worried what the job would do to them in turn. In any event, he could always step in to cover them.

Get your head on soldier, Danny thought, you lead them into it and out. Burn bridges after you crossed them.

“Ready in 60 seconds people, the bridge said the distress signal cut out so the enemy probably took over the controls. We have friendlies under attack so we’re gonna lend a hand. Now remember, the Muruzians aren’t exactly a sturdy race, and they look avian in nature,” Danny explained, showing an image on his data pad of the species. They looked like bipedal birds, with long legs and necks, plumage around the head and base of their extremities. Short wings extended from their backs, with a span over 3 meters across at their full length.

“These are civilians, not soldiers, so it’s up to us to save them. Readings on the aggressor’s ship indicate it’s probably pirates, so shoot to stun anything that shoots at you first. Seriously. Just stun. We don’t have a full crew manifest for the Muruzian ship so no spray and pray, got it? Don’t want anybody the Muruzians are friends with to get shot just ‘cause they don’t have wings.”

“About half of that didn’t make sense sir, but set everything to stun and let loose right?” Hayte said, smirking.

“Just stun anything that isn’t a tall turkey, got it?” Danny said, stepping into the shuttle. “Fall in, we’re going for a ride!”

The security force piled into the shuttle and the hatch closed behind them, pressurizing the cabin. The pilot got the all clear from hangar control, and the bay doors opened up in front of them. Danny heard Hayte behind him quietly ask Homet what a turkey was, and then they were off, into the void, hurtling towards a firefight.

“Alright guys, here’s the plan,” Danny began, “scans show their shuttle bay is wide open, so we’re going in there and securing a beach head. From there, we sweep floor by floor with scanners looking for life signs while going up to the bridge, taking out any hostiles we find or rescuing any of the Muruzians we encounter. We find anyone, one of us escorts them back to the shuttle bay for safety. Bravo Team is gonna be right behind us for recoveries, so once the friendlies are safe we regroup. Got it?”

“Got it sir,” Coola answered, though there was a slight stutter in her voice. The others didn’t respond, just nodded. Homet cocked his rifle, the weapon whirring as it powered up.

“Good to go, Chief,” he said.

“Okay, let’s do this right people,” Danny said, sending the same orders to Bravo Team through his comm-link. The shuttle was almost to the bay, and Danny could see the Muruzian ship in the distance, blocky and oblong at the same time, almost kind of egg shaped. Its thrusters were dead and dark. Just beside it was another ship, maybe a fourth the size, but clearly built for speed and maneuverability, almost like an arrow head in shape, though still smaller than the Noah.

Their shuttle came to a stop inside the Muruzian ship’s bay, just inside the air field generator. The pilot gave the signal, releasing the hatch. Danny was first out the door, sweeping from side to side with his rifle, head on a swivel. There was already another shuttle in the hangar, arrow shaped like the enemy ship. This was how they got in it seemed. They hadn’t seen any lifeforms on the scans of this area, but you never know what technology could miss. What you didn’t know could so easily kill you. The rest of them poured out of the shuttle and began securing the bay.

“Clear!” Homet called out, followed by the Quintin siblings, then Hayte.

“All clear!” Danny called, clicking on the radio in his ear piece. “Bravo Team, the beach head is secure, make your entry and prepare to receive injured friendlies and restrained enemies. We’re moving out.”

Alpha Team formed up at the exit, Homet on point with Danny right behind him. Hayte was in the rear, calling out possible life signs with the scanner, and the twins on lookout, just like they trained for.

“Got three signals on the next floor chief,” Hayte said as they made their way through the hangar floor. “But I don’t know how we’re going to get there, the ship doesn’t have stairs or any lifts.”

“Yeah, the Muruzians are an avian species,” Homet said, “they just fly and glide between floors.”

“Well they have to have maintenance shafts somewhere,” Danny said. “Somewhere they can stand and move between levels. Broaden the scan parameters, find any space that can fit us that can get to other floors.”

Hayte clicked some buttons and held the scanner up high above his head. Behind them, the Bravo Team shuttle landed in the hangar.

“Got something Chief, 20 meters ahead and to the left, service shaft. Looks like an air duct, but we can even get Homet in there if he crouches.”

“Good. Let’s move people,” Danny ordered. The team booked, staying in formation. They made their way down the hall toward the shaft, then pried open the doors. The duct went upwards at a 45 degree angle. Danny and Homet turned and gave a look to the other three, the lizards and the monkey.

“When we get back to the ship,” Danny began, “we’re gonna have a talk about the abilities of different species, okay?”

Going up was slow going. Danny’s legs were aching before they were halfway up, and Homet’s fur was making friction a problem. The Twins and Hayte had to brace themselves behind him and push while the Doun used the exposed skin on his hands to try and get traction. It took significantly longer than Danny wanted, but they had no choice.

Finally, they made it out the top end, Danny and Homet tumbling out onto the floor.

“Well that sucked,” Danny said, forcefully bending his spine back into shape. The more limber species on the team simply stepped out into the hall, trying to keep from laughing at their two more burly teammates.

“Get back in formation,” Danny ordered. “Bunch of kids, I swear.”

They made their way through the ship, Hayte directing them with the scanner. Finally they came up on a door and the Indoprime stopped them. He pointed to the door and held up 3 fingers on his furred hand.

“One Muruzian bio sign,” he said reading the device. “Two others that read as Tulane.”

“Crap,” Danny said. The Tulane were pretty well known for their techno-dependencies. They augmented themselves with whatever they could salvage from raid runs in other systems, so they didn’t have any real average appearance to attribute their species to anymore. Just lots of metal and weapons wrapped in flesh. A race of cyborgs.

“On three,” Danny said quietly, hand on the door. Homet got into position, the others behind him.

1…

2…

3!

Danny threw open the door and ducked aside as the big burly Doun charged in, his thermal suit making him a tank with tusks. The Tulane didn’t even have a chance to fire, Homet and Danny stunned them the second they were in line of sight. The team poured into the room, clearing corners and spreading out to cover any possible angle of attack.

They the coast was clear. Danny lowered his rifle and walked calmly over to the friendly alien bird. They appeared to be female, with light gray plumage and darker accents. Their beak was shaking, but despite that, Danny realized that if they stood up they’d be as tall as he was.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“SQUAWWK!” Said the Muruzian, and Danny waited a moment for the translator to kick in.

[Who are you? Are you here to help us? Please save us!]

“Don’t worry, we’re GAIL officers from the ship Noah, we’re here to help,” Danny said, trying to calm them down.

“Bawk? Squawk.”

[What? I can’t understand you, they destroyed my translator]

“Shit,” Danny said. “Ritz, give her your translator, Coola can interpret for you.”

The Quintin man gave the alien bird lady his device, then made a hissing sound. The Muruzian synced it to her ear.

“Better?” Danny asked.

“Much,” she said. “My name is Lith, thank you for coming. The Tulane came out of nowhere, we were boarded before we knew what was going on.”

“How’d they get on board?” Homet asked.

“They fired a directed EMP burst, completely fried our ship. We got back-up power going for life support, but that could go out any minute.”

“Okay Lith, we’re gonna get you to safety, but first you gotta tell us how many crew you still have on the ship so we can save them too,” Danny said.

“There’s only 50 of us in the flock, but some of them were in the hangar when they boarded. They… didn’t make it.” Lith gave a very sad sounding chirp. “The others were locked on the cargo decks. The only reason they didn’t get me too was because I was hiding. They left them in cargo and brought a few back up to the bridge.”

“Okay Lith, these two” Danny pointed to the twins, “are gonna get you to the hangar bay where our friends are gonna keep you safe, okay? All you gotta do is take a quick slide down that air duct over there, alright?”

“Thank you, thank you so much,” Lith said, squawking. Danny sent a quick message on the comm-link, ‘one incoming friendly, more in the cargo bay with hostiles, go get them’, and they were off. The twins taking Lith down and Danny, Homet, and Hayte continuing forward, securing the floor.

After a few minutes, Ritz and Coola were back, and the three of them had swept the floor for any surprises. Finding none, they moved on.

Another duct led up to the next floor, and Danny wasn’t having it after that. His legs and back ached, and watching the younger teammates effortlessly climb up was annoying. He was almost thankful when they encountered the band of Tulane pirates. At least it’d be longer now between climbs.

The group they encountered could not be said to all be the same species at first glance. For one, one of them was half the size of the other nine, and had a blaster for a hand. For two, the tallest of the group was see through, as in it looked like his torso had been replaced with bionics without any casing. Danny could see the wiring hanging down where organs should be as well as the wall behind it. Danny could see the thing’s ribs and spine, dripping what looked like motor oil.

Wow, fuck that noise, Danny thought.

“Light ‘em up!” Danny said, taking the opening shot. The first cyborg took the stun directly to the face, dropping like a sack of rocks. Homet took the next two, the energized bolt frying their circuits as they went down. Then it was all out war. Both sides fired wildly, but the Alpha Team had the element of surprise. The whole skirmish lasted less than 30 seconds. The last three took multiple stuns, twitching on the ground. Their cybernetics sparked and whirred, which would have been concerning if they weren’t pirate scumbags.

“Bravo Team, I got a present for you. 9 stunned hostiles, second floor from the hangar. Send medical and mechanical assistance. These guys are gonna stand trial for this, so make sure they don’t die.”

Danny turned back to his team, but something caught his eye.

The Tulane had jump packs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh I’m keeping this!” Homet exclaimed as they made the leap to the next floor, a whopping 20 meters up from the floor they’d left the unconscious pirates. Danny said nothing, but grinned at his friend. This was significantly easier on his back.

Plus it made him feel cool as fuck.

They made it to the next floor in record time, and cleared it just as fast. It seemed the center of the ship was hallow, a long empty shaft spanning the length of the ship, allowing the Muruzians easy access to the whole of the ship by flying or gliding to any floor they chose. Alpha Team was making use of it as well now, the jump packs strapped to each of them. Danny almost lost his cap at first, but by the sixth floor he was a natural at it. It was just like parachuting through the air, only in reverse.

They encountered a few more small groups of Tulane, but Danny took them out almost effortlessly, and with extreme efficiency. The rest of the team hardly had to do anything, Danny was systematically taking out every hostile they came across. If things kept up like this, he could keep everyone safe.

All in all, things were going well.

That was, until they reached the bridge.

The doors to the bridge looked as if they’d been blown open. They hung there, half retracted into the wall, wrenched into the room from what looked like concussive force. Danny could hear yelling in an alien language even from out in the hall, but they were too far away for his translator to make any sense of the words. He held his hand up and made a fist, signaling everyone to hold. They formed up on the entrance on the left side of the ruined door. Danny ducked his head and peeked in.

The Muruzian crew were huddled together in the corner, the Tulane looming over them with blades and blasters. One of the birds was kneeling in the center of the room before what appeared to Danny as just a hulking mass of metal on legs. Then he realized…

Aw fuck me

…it was a battle suit. Hydraulic muscles encased in oversized metal plating. Like a tank with an attitude. Danny had only seen one once before, during Academy training. He’d watched, uncomfortably scared, as a soldier in such a suit had punched a Humvee through a concrete wall.

The Muruzians never had a chance.

Neither did they, in all likelihood.

“Is that what I think it is?” Homet asked.

“Yeah,” Danny said, swallowing.

“What would a human say right now?”

“Fuck works.”

“Fuck then.”

“Stuns won’t get through that plating. And the birds aren’t gonna last a second if they decide to just wipe them out. Any plans?” Hayte asked.

The rest of the team just looked at him blankly.

“Fuck,” Coola said, unhelpfully shrugging.

Danny looked back into the bridge room, desperate for anything that might spark an idea, even a bad one would work.

4 hostiles.

1 in a tank.

Lots of friendlies.

Danny looked up above the battle suit. The roof had taken damage, the remains of a light source hanging from the ceiling. Wires sparked and embers fluttered down.

Maybe that could work?

“Okay, here’s the play. Twins and Hayte, take out the 3 by the hostages. Keep to stuns in case you miss. Homet, watch their backs. I’m gonna swap to scattershot and shoot the ceiling right above the suit, try to dislodge those wires and zap the bastard. That’ll distract him or drop something heavy on him, either works. Okay? On 3.”

Coola and Ritz looked like they wanted to protest, but he wasn’t paying attention anymore.

Danny counted.

1 prayer.

2 prayers.

Fuck it.

3!

Danny burst into the room first, screaming and shooting, which was fair since he’d probably get ripped to shreds first. The rest of the team came in a beat later, ducking to the side and firing at the pirates. It took one extra shot to knock out the guards, as Danny fired boiling plasma buckshot into the ceiling. There was a quick BOOMF!! as a an electrical explosion fried the wiring in the roof. Sparks and melted carbon rained down on the battle suit, and Danny could hear muffled screaming coming from the inside as the super heated shrapnel made its way into the seams. The battle suit flailed its arms and spun around to face them, weapon raised. Homet dove left, firing into its side, doing barely anything. Danny went wide to the right, trying to confuse it. Everything was moving in slow motion to him, himself included. The battle suit, his teammates, the scared Muruzians. Everything except his brain. That was firing on all cylinders, adrenaline coursing through his body, his mind desperate to come up with a way to get everyone else out alive.

His back felt heavy.

And then he realized, there was a better way.

Danny charged the battle suit as it turned to face him, firing as he ran. When he was right on top of it, he dropped and slid between its legs. It bent over to look for him, but Danny was already climbing up its back, strapping his jump pack to its side and wedging his rifle under some wires on the other. He brought his fist down on the pack, and the Tulane shot to the side, throwing Danny to the floor.

If Danny couldn’t take out the suit, all he had to do was scramble the guy inside.

“EVERYONE GET DOWN!” He ordered, quick as he could before the suit slammed into the side of the wall, crushing the plasma rifle and detonating the small core that powered it.

The sound was deafening, even with the battle suit taking the brunt of the explosion. It sounded like a train had rammed into the side of their heads going at full speed. Danny got thrown into the opposite wall from the force, as well as several of the Muruzians and Homet. The rest were scattered across the room, battered, bruised, and some a little burnt. But everyone was alive, including the three Tulane they’d stunned, which was a small miracle in and of itself.

“Chief, what’s a human word that’d work for right now?” Ritz asked, lying on his back in the corner with a giant bird man on top of him.

“Fuck still works,” Danny said.

“Fuuuuuuck then,” Ritz groaned. “I think my tail is broken.”

“What the hell were you doing Ducane?” Homet asked angrily. “No real plan, and then that?”

“Yeah, not pushing back on that one,” Danny admitted. “That sucked, and I’m sorry. But how else do you take down a battle suit?”

Danny walked over to the wrecked suit crumpled in the wall, pulling his pistol just to be safe. The thing sparked and a motor somewhere creaked, but he couldn’t see any signs of life coming from it. He banged on the head with the butt of his gun. It clanged dully.

Then the arm shot out and clamped around Danny’s waist. He could feel his bones grinding together under the strength of the metal claw wrapped around him. Hot metal seared his skin where his armor and clothes got burned away.

Danny shouted in alarm before the suit pulled him in, putting him face to face with the Tulane. The helmet visor flipped up and Danny was looking into the eyes of the raider inside.

Damn was he ugly.

Half melted orange flesh poured over the cybernetics in their face, their eyes bloodshot and twitching in all directions. Pipes and wiring were sticking out of their deformed neck. They tried to croak out words but the translator didn’t register it as a language.

Danny panicked and unloaded the whole clip into the Tulane’s face. At that close a range with no barrier, the ballistic force of Danny’s Terran firearm splattered the alien’s brains across the wall and much on Danny himself.

“FUCK!” Danny screamed. “God damnit, I didn’t… he caught be by surprise, I didn’t mean to fire lethals.”

“You killed a pirate Ducane, nobody is gonna be too upset about that,” Homet said. “What we are mad about is that you ran in half cocked without working out a plan with us.”

“Chief, you charged right at a battle suit with no way to survive it,” Coola said. Ritz and Hayte were tending to the Muruzians. “You completely disregarded any help we could’ve given you. Fuck!”

“Okay I think we’re over using that word now,” Danny said, prying himself out of the suit’s grip. He wiped his face, trying to get the blood smears out of his hair. “Truthfully, I didn’t think of that until the fight had started, but… yeah, okay, you guys are right. I should’ve got back-up first.”

“You do all this work for us Chief, training us like Terran soldiers, but then you don’t let us be part of the team when it counts. Why not?” Coola crossed her arms and looked him in the eye, her tail whipping back and forth angrily.

“I don’t know…” Danny started, but Homet cut him off.

“Chief, this is the first real combat situation we’ve all experienced together, and I have to say, we failed as a team. You did almost all the work, which isn’t to say you did a bad thing, but we don’t need Ducane the Destroyer right now, we need Chief Ducane to lead us, to make the plan and to trust us. Better, we need the Chief Ducane who trusts himself, who knows he did a good job training us.”

Danny wiped his hands stained with purple blood on his pants and looked at the team, his team, and realized they were right. He trained them, he knows their strengths and weaknesses, and knew he’d done a great job at turning them into marines.

So why had he taken on so much himself today?

“You humans don’t need to save us every time, you know?” Ritz said, walking over.

“You’re right,” Danny conceded. “I got it in my head that it was my job alone to keep everybody on the ship safe, including you all. I can see I need to work on that.” Danny nodded towards the Muruzians in the corner. “Let’s get them down to the shuttles and get back to the ship, yeah?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Noah was ordered to stay in the vicinity until a relief ship could come and take care of the Muruzians, their ship, and take the Tulane into custody. The bird peoples were given guest quarters on board the Noah until then, taking several hours for them all to get processed and translators. Danny was back in his office, going through the metric ton of data they’d taken from the Tulane ship when Homet walked in.

“Sir… Danny, I think we need to talk.”

Danny looked up at him and sighed.

“Look, I heard you guys loud and clear, no more solo acts, promise.”

“No, I don’t think you’re really hearing us. You took on everything by yourself today. I might’ve been on point, but you were still somehow first in the door. Our job is to keep the ship safe. Our job is to walk into the fire. Your job is to get us out the other side. And you can’t do that every time with this wanton disregard for your own well being.” Homet took a breath.

“I talked to the Captain,” he said.

“Homet, what did you-”

“Tomorrow it is mandatory you stay out of your office and take a real day off.” Homet grinned at him. “Captain’s orders.”

Danny just sat there looking at him for a minute before busting out laughing.

“Jackass, you had me worried for a minute there. Alright, fine, less coffee, more beer, yeah? You come get a drink with me after your shift. You’re in charge of the kids then.”

“Aye aye, Chief,” Homet said, joining him in laughter. “You humans might be the weirdest species I’ve ever met, but even you guys have to rest every once in a while.”

“Only when you make us, apparently.”

[livi-in-digital-circus]

The Abuse || a short Bunnydoll angsty story

I wrote this only because I'm having worse days now (also I started writing the new fic but I'm already stuck at the beginning of TwT)

TW: abuse

Through the glass wall of the infirmary, Ragatha stared at the guests of the Digital Circus. Once in a while, people from the real world had the chance to meet their favorite characters in person, not knowing that they were actually normal humans just like them. It was unfair that they could go home the moment their visit ended. But that was what the circus was all about. Every single member of the crew was an animal trapped in a cage, released only to perform silly and often dangerous acts.

And since Caine was especially busy when they had visitors, Ragatha couldn’t ask him to help her get back to her pristine self. Instead, she had to spend the entire day under the care of a nurse-like NPC who stuffed her with more pills, like painkillers, hour after hour. Even though the rag doll didn’t seem to have any bones in her plush body, she felt like her bruised arm was broken. Not to mention that she had vomited at least three times that day and felt dizzy all the time.

It was a pure torture.

The girls in the main area were loud enough for Ragatha to hear what they were saying, so she leaned carefully against the wall. Due to her current state, she wasn’t allowed to greet the visitors. After all, Caine had to keep the reputation of the circus at its best, and if anyone found out there was a serious case of abuse going on behind the scenes, he would lose everything he had worked on for years.

“Did you see the way he looked at me? I’m definitely his type!” One of the girls exclaimed. Her digital avatar resembled a cute Lolita-style doll, making her look like an innocent angel. Another one, Ragatha thought.

“It’s a good thing we didn’t mention our shrines full of his limited merch.” The other said, her cat ears and tail moving on their own from time to time. “But then again, who wouldn’t want lots of Jax for themselves?”

Ragatha trembled. These two clearly had no idea who they were talking about. Judging by their behavior and appearance, they were mostly underage and delusional. The rag doll looked at her arm again. She should be jealous, it was her boyfriend who was the center of attention that day.

Instead, she felt anger, especially when she heard the girls mention all the things they wanted Jax to do to them. Ragatha smiled bitterly to herself, the familiar metallic taste tickling her tongue. She had lived too long in the circus to understand today’s teenagers. Some of them were born into rich families and had everything they could wish for. It could be anything, like an expensive dress worn by many famous models, or a bottle of sweet-smelling limited edition perfume. And yet they chose to be used by none other than Jax.

Little do they know that he is a real abuser.

And abuse is not something you should wish for.

Year after year, the rabbit became more mentally unstable. Several times he promised Ragatha that he would change, that he would try to be a better boyfriend. She was very proud of Jax when he managed to go a whole week without hurting her. But when she was about to visit him in his room after one of their adventures to watch a movie, she found him torturing the little version of herself that she had made for him to hug when he felt alone.

Caine had no idea how to fix Jax. His first assumption was that he would soon abstract, but Ragatha quickly shook her head. That had been going on for a long time, with no clear signs of improvement. However, she didn’t feel any hatred for Jax, even though she was sore and bruised the last few days. She knew it was because of his poor mental health and that inside he was still the bunny she had fallen in love with.

The girls disappeared from her view after a while. Ragatha groaned as she made her way back to bed. All she wanted was to fall asleep and wake up the next day. The moment her head touched the pillow, she heard someone enter the infirmary.

“Feeling better?” Jax sat on the edge of the bed, his gloved hand gently stroking the bandage on the rag doll’s cheek. Ragatha shivered, yet her lover’s soothing touch was all she needed at the moment.

“Still a little sore, but it’s okay. Did you enjoy the meeting with the viewers?”

“Not really, this group was annoying as hell.”

“I don’t like what those girls said about you.” Though Ragatha didn’t want to tell him exactly what. She knew Jax felt bad after each time he lost control and hurt her, and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable now that he was temporarily sane again.

Jax let out a soft laugh and pressed his lips to Ragatha’s forehead. God, she loved his kisses so much.

“I actually brought you something to drink. You must be thirsty after I… you know.”

Ragatha gladly accepted the water bottle and began to pour the liquid into her mouth. But just as she was about to stop, she felt Jax’s hands suddenly tighten around her neck, causing her to cough and choke. The taste of water and blood mixed sickeningly in her mouth.

Jax knew it was only a matter of time before she started vomiting all over the circus from the ‘water’ he gave her.

Everyone told Ragatha to break up with Jax, but she was too kindhearted to do that. He was mentally ill and she wanted to help him. She hoped that one day everything would be okay, that her boyfriend would overcome this.

And before that happens, she would be tortured in many more different ways for the next few weeks, months, or maybe even years.

Still, Ragatha would manage to survive all this. It was impossible to die in Digital Circus after all.

Thanks for reading!

(I'm sorry, please don't be mad at me for writing this ;-;)

[chaisarinawat]

"Chai, calm down. It might not matter to you if you got sick but it does to me. You've helped me a lot the past two days. You're the only one who could handle things for me right now without going crazy yourself - If you got sick, who am I going to rely on? I'm sorry that I'm saying this to you right now - I haven't found your replacement and I don't have a choice but to force you into this position right now…"

Chai's worried and pleading expression did not leave, as he listened to Khun Dan talk him down from his panic. Shouldn't it be the other way around? Shouldn't Chai be the one trying to comfort Khun Dan? His boss was the sick one after all, not Chai, yet was still somehow more composed even in his weakened state.

"I wanted you to go home and rest not because I don't like you or don't want you around… I'm not your responsibility. I'm used to getting sick and recovering by myself. It's been an unwritten policy not to hung around me when I'm ill or staff will get sick, too. We've just had a bug going around the office. You can't be sick, too."

"Khun..." Chai sighed, exasperated, knowing that if he and Khun Dan continued this conversation then they'd probably be running around in circles. Both of them seemed to be as stubborn as each other, unrelenting in what they wanted, but one of them had to compromise so that they could make some progress in their day. Chai felt that it would have to be him, he had all the odds stacked up against him, with how Khun Dan was shutting him off from helping him around as much - though it was nice, to hear that his boss was recognising what he had done for him the past two days. The young assistant's cheeks dusted a little pink at the compliment, which for some reason had his heart swelling in happiness. He just wanted to help in any way he could, and it looked like his hard work was paying off.

At least Khun Dan said that he could stay. That had Chai's ears perking up, because thankfully that was now a conversation they could shelve. He was adamant on not going anywhere, especially with Khun Dan still being so sick. Chai could see it written all over his stubborn boss' face, all pale, eyes rimmed with dark circles.

Chai was asked to follow the crew and support them, to which the young assistant nodded, face still red when Khun Dan thanked him for being a big help. "You can count on me Khun, for anything," Chai assured his boss, hoping that the other knew he also meant taking care of him if he was sick again, and not just with the production crew duties.

"I promise to take the medicine as soon as I'm done talking to some crew..."

Why not take it now!? Chai wanted to whine, stopping himself from raising his voice again at Khun Dan because it would just be the same old story - Khun would reject the help in favour of speaking with the agent and finalising the contract. Goodness! Chai never remembered Khun Dan being this stubborn before! Strict, stern, punctual, hard-working, dedicated - but not stubborn like this!

"Alright Khun, I'll be around," Chai told his boss, thinking that's the best he could do at this stage. "But please, please call me if you need anything okay? I might not be your assistant like before but I like this kind of job. So don't hesitate Khun."

With that, Chai reluctantly watched as Khun Dan left to get to work. The best thing he could do was follow instructions and check up on the other throughout the rest of the day.

When about an hour had passed and dinnertime rolled around, Khun Dan encouraged Chai to eat with the team before leaving to go back to the guesthouse. He probably was looking to rest, even if he was not admitting it. The young assistant nodded, chewing his bottom lip from the worry as his boss left.

The dinner provided by the staff was great, but Chai didn't feel as enthusiastic as earlier, thoughts about Khun Dan and his sickness preventing him from focussing on the conversation. He mostly listened, still interested in the stories that the older workers had about past projects, chiming in here and there but mostly keeping to himself as he ate.

"You're eating really fast there Nong! Got somewhere to be?" One of the staff asked after Chai had cleaned his plate.

The young assistant glanced down, not even noticing how fast he had been going. "O-oh, sorry." He said, a little embarrassed. "I guess I'm just worried about Khun Dan, I want to go check on him soon."

"Why?" One of the female production staff asked, eyebrows furrowed. "P'Dan is always like this when he's sick, and always recovers on his own. There's nothing we can do except wait."

"Plus, this is when P'Dan comes up with the best ideas!" Another staff said. "Last time he was sick, he managed to edit an entire script on his own, and pointed out a plothole in the story that would have ruined everything if left unchecked!"

"I know, but Khun Dan needs to rest too," Chai argued.

"Are you still calling him Khun?" Another staff member said with a giggle. "You know you can call him P'Dan instead. We're all like a family here, he wouldn't mind."

Chai wasn't sure about that. He'd rather ask Khun Dan if he was comfortable if he changed to a more informal honorific when talking to him, but even that was something he wasn't brave enough to do yet. There was a bit of a barrier between them - maybe relaxing around each other would help get along better?

"O-okay. I'll try that next time," Chai said, mostly to get the staff off of his back. He stood from his seat, turning to one of the kitchen workers of the estate to ask for a bowl of soup he could take up to the guestroom. Since being awake, Chai still hadn't seen Khun Dan eat anything and thought maybe he was feeling hungry. With that in mind, he bid the rest of the production team a good night, leaving the kitchen with a tray in hand to take up to the guest bedroom for his feverish boss.

The moment he entered the bedroom he knew that something was wrong. Khun Dan seemed to have collapsed - on Chai's bed - and was calling out the assistant's name, his breathing heavy and laboured.

"Khun!" Chai exclaimed, rushing to the bed, some of the soup splashing onto the tray with the movement. He set the entire thing down on the bedside table before reaching for his boss, feeling the other's forehead. Chai's eyes grew wide when he realised that the fever had returned. "Oh Khun, I knew this would happen!" Chai whined, upset that he hadn't been able to prevent this with his warning, and immediately switching gears to once again nurse Khun Dan back to health. "Khun, listen to me. I know you said it's not my responsibility but this is ridiculous. I'm here to help and that's what I'm going to do, okay?" Chai told him firmly. "You need to take medicine and eat something - just a few bites, so that it works. Then you can sleep it off. Come on, let's sit up-" Chai was careful as he placed one of his knees on the bed to lean forward and help Khun Dan sit up, gently pulling the other so he was in a seated position by the headboard. It took a bit of time because Khun's body was so heavy and Chai was so small, but they managed.

Remaining seated on the bed, Chai picked up the tray and placed it in front of Khun Dan, wondering if it would be too much if he fed the man. He felt like he needed to though, because his boss had been awful with food lately and also seemed to weak to feed himself. "Just a few bites Khun," Chai repeated, lifting up the spoon to his boss' lips. "Please? Then it's medicine and bed, okay?" Chai told him softly, hoping that he wasn't overstepping his boss' boundaries.

There was a bustle of activity when the production crew arrived, with Khun Tar instructing them to stay to finalise the deal they wanted to make with the agent. He had asked Chai one more time if he was sure the other didn't want to come with him back to Bangkok, where he was needed to hold down the fort while Khun Dan was out of commission but Chai once again politely declined. He restated that he would remain here with Khun Dan and the production crew, assuring Tar that he'd keep an eye on everything. He might not be experience with the production side of things, but he could at least support by taking notes down and double-checking in the information so that nothing was missed.

That's what Chai did, throughout the day. He greeted the different people from the crew who had arrived, following them around with his note book and pointing out the kinds of things he remembered Khun Dan being interested in when they toured the place the day before. His boss should still be sleeping, and Chai was insistent that he remain undisturbed, even when the members of the team said they would liked Khun Dan's opinion on certain details. Chai told them it could wait until Khun Dan was feeling better.

When it was time for a break, Chai joined the others outside. The outdoor space at the back of the estate was beautiful, with one of the staff pointing out there was plenty of space to film scenes. There were seating areas too, some open and some covered with a roof, and Chai sat down to enjoy some fruit provided by the estate staff with the production team. He typed up his notes on Khun Dan's laptop, listening happily to the stories the older workers had about projects in the past and asking questions.

"Khun Daaannn!"

Chai and the others turned around when Khun Dan approached them, their boss looking as though he had just been on the phone. Some stood up to greet the man, asking him questions about his health and how he was doing. Chai could only frown - both an Khun Dan for being out of bed while still unwell, but also at the staff who encouraged this kind of behaviour by saying he worked best when he was sick. They had even told Chai that they were used to seeing Khun work himself to the bone, that it was normal for the other to ignore all these important health signs in favour of getting a job done. Were they crazy??? Khun Dan should be resting, not working!

Khun Dan, ever polite, thanked the crew and still continued to talk about work, despite his voice sounding rough and scratchy. Had he even had any water to drink? Tea? Honey to soothe his throat?

Clearly not, Chai thought to himself as he listened to Khun talk, making a mental note to ask the estate staff to make his boss something hot to drink.

It was announced that they'd leave for Bangkok tomorrow afternoon, and the crew invited Khun to join them, not worried about getting sick. Most of them would have been recovering from their own stomach bug, which took out a lot of the staff this week. Khun Dan however, told them to enjoy, wanting to go and check something. Chai was about to jump up and join his boss of his own accord, worried that the other might faint or something, but Khun Dan called him over anyway.

"Bye everyone, thank you for the stories!" Chai told the other workers, hopping up from where he was seated and closing the laptop lid, tucking the device beneath his arm. He had put himself in charge of it while Khun Dan was asleep, getting a lot of the more annoying and time-taxing tasks out of the way to make it easier on everyone when it came time to finalise the deals.

Chai walked alongside Khun Dan, about to ask him how he was feeling until the older man spoke to him first in a low voice.

"Why didn't you go home?"

"I told you Khun," Chai answered. He'd say the same thing over and over again if Khun Dan needed to hear it. "I'm not leaving you alone when you're unwell."

"I don't want you getting sick and I told N'Tar to take you back to Bangkok... I can have one of my crew drive you home. Take the next two days off, make sure you're alright."

"Oh, Khun, honestly!" Chai huffed, not angry but a little annoyed that he was once again being pushed away and told what to do. "I told Khun Tar to leave me here, I'm not going back with anyone but you. If I get sick, then I get sick - but I'm feeling fine right now and can actually help. Won't you let me?" Chai asked. "I'm worried about you, Khun! Did you get enough rest? Did you drink enough water? I left medicine next to the bed, did you take it? Oh, you really shouldn't be walking around like this..." Chai's voice was laced with genuine concern, despite the stubborn nature of his words. "I... I know you don't like me Khun, but please let me take care of you so that you don't get any worse. If you're worried about all the paperwork and contracts, I promise you there's no need! Khun Tar did everything, I've typed it all up and emailed all the right people, and the production crew are very happy. Everything is going fine. Please Khun, please rest. I can sit with you and keep you company if you want - but don't push yourself or you'll collapse." Chai pleaded with the other, looking up at him with his big brown eyes.

[soysaucevictim]

Anyways, just jiving with this trying to get more words on the screen. :,D

[hauntingblue]

One thing oden and ace teach us is that bad bitches go early so you can understand how worried I am for nami....

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

(Don't You) Steal My Thunder

my tyler owens playlist 🤝 inspiring fic titles

Tyler Owens x fem!reader  7k words

summary: Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's set on getting you on his good side. And the more you get to know him, the less you can resist.

a/n: i had to research sm car stuff for this it's not funny. i now know exactly how to describe a truck bed though, so. that's fun.

again, my inbox is wide open <33 i don't guarantee anything, but you can always come talk to me or request smth

masterlist | twisters masterlist

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met.

He prints his face on t-shirts, writes his autograph on mugs, comes up with ridiculous sayings ("Not My First Tornadeo" and "If you feel it, chase it" are really just the tip of the ice berg) and most importantly, he costs you the best shots of tornadoes every goddamn time.

Tyler Owens is a problem.

And Tyler Owens seems to have actively decided to make himself a problem too.

Which would be fine, if he flipped you the bird or told you to fuck off or threw his paper towels at you. Unluckily, those are rather examples of what you have done to him. Because it's not fine, not at all - no, Tyler Owens has decided that it's not enough to be in your way all the time, he has to seek you out and rub your nose in it.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's arrogant and he's entirely too full of himself. He brags too much and calls you "weather girl" too often. He gets under your skin more than you would ever admit.

And, as if all of that isn't enough - Tyler Owens is the very epitome of handsomeness.

It's like god didn't just have a good day when he created Tyler Owens, no, god must have still been in the post-haze of the best head he'd gotten in his whole immortal life when he'd created Tyler Owens.

Because Tyler Owens has the body of a greek god and the face of a Hollywood actor. He's not a pornstar, he's who pornstars worship. He's the Prince Charming little girls dream of and the Christian Grey grown women lust for.

Tyler Owens looks like everything you've ever wanted.

But he's just such a fucking asshole.

You wish you could say you didn't care. You'd love to be the kind of woman who didn't even acknowledge him. But you're not. You're not. You watch his videos when you can't sleep, you chuckle when you happen to overhear his jokes, you ogle his back when he's turned away from you. Sometimes, you get so lost in staring at him that you realise too late when he turns back around, and then you have to act unbothered when he grins his fucking grin at you. That's mostly when you flip him off, desperately fighting to ignore the heat in your cheeks.

Not like it stops him. You honestly feel like it only spurs him on.

Something has to seriously be wrong with him. It's not his face. But something is seriously wrong with him, you're sure of that.

Something has to be wrong with him. No sane person would ever go tornado wrangling. No hate to the rest of his crew - they're nice, you've managed to hold a few pretty normal conversations with them here and there - but none of them are sane either.

Storm chasing is different. You keep your distance. All you need are a few well-placed photographs - and those you can get from a rather safe number of miles away. The weather channel doesn't care about close-ups (not really, anyway). They want something to show the people on their comfortable couches, up in New Hampshire or Maine, so that all of them can say to each other "What poor folks, wouldn't wanna live there" and nod in pity as they switch the channel to watch another blockbuster.

You're just doing your job.

The only problem is that it's hard to do your job properly when there's always that fucking red truck in the way, driving down empty roads right into the heart of the tornado. And because no one on the news wants people to see that and go "Well, can't be too bad if there's still cars on the streets!", in the last few months - ever since you'd volunteered to move back to Oklahoma 'So that we've got someone right in Tornado Alley and don't have to fly people out there every time' - the weather channel has only shown the first few minutes of tornadoes forming. The rest of your pictures and videos lie abandoned in the trash file on your laptop. Except for a few - a very, very few, very, very good pictures of Tyler Owens and his Tornado Wranglers. But those won't ever see the light of day either.

You'd be damned if you let anyone know that while Tyler Owens is busy disturbing your actual work, you're busy taking pictures of him shooting fireworks into tornadoes. Pictures that would make for some damn good headers (if you hadn't buried them far, far down your gallery).

This time is no different. You get a few amazing shots of the tornado forming – surely an EF2, maybe even an EF3 - before you settle in the driver's seat again, your window rolled down and your camera hung around your neck as you push down on the gas. Then, a few miles further, you get even better shots of the full tornado, of the first few minutes of destruction, right there, in the middle of an empty field.

And as always, of course, just as the tornado takes on full form, you spot that familiar red truck through the lens of your camera. It speeds down the pavement right in front of where you’ve swerved onto the side of the road and you snap a few pictures, just because you’ve got the trigger right underneath your finger. Honestly, something about that dirty red paint against the grey skies just looks too good not to capture. But then the truck comes closer and closer and starts to slow down and you let your camera sink.

Tyler has his window rolled down already when he stops the car. There’s that annoyingly handsome grin on his lips, the one that makes you want to slap him across the face.

“You’re too far away, weather girl”, he calls out above the rumble of distant wind and thunder. “The good pictures are down that way.”

“The good pictures are right here.” You lift your camera at him. “Maybe you just need to update your equipment.”

Tyler’s grin widens, but before he can throw another of those obnoxious retorts your way, Lilly’s voice rings out through the car.

“Hey, T, looks like it’s changing course. You should hurry.”

His eyes are still glued to yours, still glued so firmly to yours that it makes your skin crawl. You can’t look away, couldn’t possibly look away. Tyler Owens might just be a cocky asshole, but you’re only human. And the weight of his gaze on yours is enough to keep you stuck in place, clutching at your camera.

“We’re on our way, Lilly”, he drawls without looking away from you. “See you around, weather girl.”

The rest of the pictures you take land in your trash file with all the other pictures of the last few weeks. You’re laying in bed, your laptop propped up against a pillow, the empty plate from dinner on the mattress next to you as you sort through today’s work. That’s the good thing about the time difference – you’ve got until seven to send the channel the day's results.

By nine, you’ve showered, put on a dress you feel confident in and settled on one of the chairs at the local bar. You’ve been telling yourself you need to get out a little bit more – you’ve been living here three months now and you haven’t really made any friends so far. To be fair, your job has kept you out and about most of the time. You’ve spent more hours at gas stations to fill up your tank than you have in your own home. But now you’ve decided to put an end to that. You're a young woman in a new town, you can meet more people than just the cashier at the local supermarket.

So for the past twenty minutes, you’ve been nursing a mojito at the counter and talking to the bartender. She’s nice, she’s your age, she’s extroverted enough to keep sidling up to you after every time she has to excuse herself to do her job. That, and she tells you she’s grown up here, so she knows most of the people around. She’s just serving another customer – a long-haired, brown-eyed, hat-wearing country guy who’s already shared a smile or two with you – when someone rests their arm on the countertop next to you.

“Didn’t expect to see you here”, he drawls, all low, deep Southern accent and you recognise his voice before you’ve even tilted your head up and looked at him. His grin drips down onto his words and wraps itself around your mind.

Tyler Owens isn’t just annoying – he’s unbelievable. He's unbelievable and he’s here.

“So you’re stalking me now”, you say, as drily as you can possibly manage. You've been doing that a lot around him. Dead-panning everything. Schooling your expression into fake neutrality.

"I'm here all the time, weather girl", he grins. "If anything, you're stalking me."

You snort, but it's rather unfunny when you think of all the videos you've watched, hours after they'd been livestreamed, cuddled up in your bed until midnight just to stare at his face. He's not that far from the truth.

"In your dreams, Owens", you say anyway, dragging your eyes back towards your almost empty cocktail glass. You wrap your lips around your straw and drain your drink entirely. What you say and what you do, none of that matters in the end. All of this is just show. Every conversation you've had with Tyler Owens in the last three months has been nothing but a performance. Other than your name, you don't think a single sentence out of your mouth has been honest. Not when it comes to him.

"Let me buy you a beer" is the only answer you get.

His grin widens when you look back up again - so cocky, so unbelievably cocky.

"I don't drink."

You push your glass an inch further down the bar top. Tyler raises his eyebrows. Fuck, someone really needs to kick him in the face. You can't keep having all these little heart attacks whenever he's close enough that you could touch him if you wanted.

Not that you want to.

"You're drinking right now", he says. You rest your palms against the bar top and blink at him.

"I don't drink with you."

He lets out a chuckle, one of those deep ones that settle right in your chest and make it hard to swallow.

"Just this once?", he asks and in all honesty, for just a second there, you actually consider giving in. He's too handsome for his own good. You really need to get it together. He's an ass (what an ass, goddamn). And he's insane. He's an insane ass. Sometimes you have to remind yourself of that - those times like now, when his piercing eyes and his kissable lips and his rugged stubble and his broad, broad shoulders and his drawled voice overshadow everything else.

"Don't you have some livestreaming to do?", you ask, hoping it still comes across just as sarcastic when you're the slightest bit distracted by how gloriously tight the sleeves of his flannel are. "Go chasing tornadoes, not me."

His grin widens inexplicably further. You're sure that if you were in a comic, there'd be a lightbulb flashing above his head right about now.

"Well", he drawls, "if you feel it..."

"Don't you do that shit to me, Owens."

He's raising his eyebrows again, raising his eyebrows as you clasp your hand around your empty glass so hard your knuckles turn white. But you're serious. Just as you'd lost yourself in the view of him, that angelic, sinful view of him, he'd gone and reminded you why you were so adamant to keep your distance. If you feel it, chase it. Ridiculous. Obnoxious. He's an arrogant, know-it-all, suicidal job-wrecker. He's the guy with cameras pointed at him everywhere he goes. He signs mugs and selfies and hats and shirts and bras. He's the reason you haven't gotten a single un-edited shot of a fully formed tornado in the last three months.

"You're not a fan of my catchphrase, weather girl?"

He can't even pretend to look wounded (even though he tries) with how big the grin on his lips still is. You stare right at him, dead-eyed and unflinching.

"I'm not a fan of you."

Lies slip off your tongue so easily by now that you wonder when you'd become morally compromised enough to not even care anymore. It must've happened somewhere along the way, sometime between the first conversation you'd had with him and the one you're having with him right now.

"You wound me", he grins, his palm pressed to his chest.

For the first time tonight, you allow yourself to grin back at him.

"I try."

With that, you slip off your chair and wave the bartender goodbye. You're already two steps away when Tyler calls after you.

"I'd still buy you a beer."

"I'm still not drinking with you", you call back. You don't turn around again. You just make your way back to your car and mark the evening as a half-successful night of socialising on your to-do list.

...

You see him again first thing the next day. Of course. Because there's no tornadoes without the Tornado Wranglers on their tail. By now, you're used to it. You wave at Dani as they come back out of the store at the gas station you're waiting at. They've got both arms full of coffees and for a second, you consider offering your help, but then you hear Tyler shout something out of his car and you suddenly don't feel any desire whatsoever to get up. You've sat yourself down in your truck bed, your camera slung around your neck and the radar on your lap. If all goes right, you're hoping for a tornado to form a little to the east from here. And as much as you dislike Tyler Owens, the fact that he's here soothes your nerves. Where he goes, there's sure to be tornadoes close by.

The few times you hadn't seen him had never ended well for you. You'd missed an EF3 your second week here just because you'd followed the wrong hunch. Meanwhile Tyler, of course, had been in the middle of it.

This might just be the one singular situation that you welcome seeing his red truck around. As long as you can manage to overtake him on the road after.

It's not that you need to be faster. You don't need to reach the tornado first. You don't even take the same way as him most of the time. He wants in there, you just want a sensible picture. Still, you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment every time you hit the brakes and jump out of your car, miles away from the actual cell as Tyler speeds down towards it. You've been telling yourself that it's because he ruins your pictures. It kind of is.

"Hey, weather girl!"

You let out a resigned breath as you tilt your head up and squint against the sun. He's still in his truck, his window rolled down, his elbow propped up against the car door.

"What do you want, Owens?"

Your fingers itch to reach for your camera. It's a visual, him in that fucking car, leaning out of his window with the sun peaking out behind him. But you can't, you can't take a picture of him this openly. Even if you were to argue that it's just the light you'd wanted to capture.

"To give you some advice", he calls out, his lips pulling into a grin. You raise your eyebrows at him. "East isn't gonna work out. Wind's changing. Go south."

He throws you a mock salute and hits the gas before you can say anything else.

Not that you'd been about to.

Instead you just curse to yourself, jump off the truck bed and throw your treacherous technology into the passenger seat with a little too much vigor. Fuck this. You sit at the steering wheel and stare out at the sky for exactly two seconds before you make your decision. Then you start your car and drive south.

You may not be a fan of Tyler Owens, but you've long since admitted to yourself that this man has got a gift. He has an unbeatable instinct when it comes to storms. And sure, you have your fair share of knowledge, but in the end, you're a photographer, not a meteorologist. You won't miss a day's work just because you're too proud to listen to Tyler.

You're a little further behind, but you can spot his truck and guess that he's driving straight on into the cell today, so you take a right and decide to try your luck with the side of the tornado. Not being right in its path doesn't sound too bad anyway.

You actually manage to snap a few well-placed pictures. You don't know what Tyler's doing, but it seems like he's not shooting random shit up the cell today. You'll watch the stream later - you're just the slightest bit curious now what's happening with them. Maybe they're doing some old-school chasing? Or maybe they're doing a challenge. Maybe Tyler is driving blindfolded. At this point, who knows.

It's good for you though. It's a considerable tornado today, an EF2 at least, and you only spot Tyler's red truck again when the cell moves further down the fields, away from him. It doesn't look like it's gonna disappear anytime soon. Maybe today's your lucky day.

Half an hour later, you're sure you've got at least a dozen pictures of the fully formed tornado, long touched down and without the red truck in the way.

You're just packing up your things, already sifting through the photos on your camera, squinting against the sunlight, trying to both tug the zipper of your bag closed and hit the right buttons at the same time when Tyler pulls up next to you.

"You look busy, weather girl", he says, already grinning that damn grin again.

"I am", you say - truthfully, for once. You let go of your bag and lower your camera. You're hesitant, but... "Thanks for the tip."

"Anytime", he grins. "Just do me one favour."

You already know this can't be good. Not with that cheeky look on his face. But he'd just saved you from chasing hot air (quite literally), so he deserves a little treat. And you don't want unsettled scores with Tyler Owens.

"I want to know what favour that's supposed to be before I agree", you say anyway, because with him, you can never be too careful. And in the end, you're only willing to do so much. (Though for him, you'd already do a lot more than you'd admit. A lot more than you hope he's aware of.)

"Let me buy you a beer", he says, and for once, he sounds serious.

The memory of yesterday night flashes before your eyes, of those same words at the bar. With him so close, way too close - with that grin and that stubble and that voice and those shoulders. You cross your arms and stare at him.

"If you're livestreaming this, I'm gonna sue your ass so hard."

He just lets out a chuckle and raises his hands in surrender.

"Cameras are off, I swear."

You stare at him for another silent ten or so seconds. At him in that fucking truck that looks just a little too good in your pictures. At him and his fucking face. That fucking face that you certainly wouldn't mind sitting on, if just to shut him up.

God, he's asking you to drink something with him. He's asking to buy you something to drink with him. You're stupid.

You're so, so stupid.

"Alright, cowboy", you say, uncrossing your arms and reaching for the handle of your car door. "I'll humour you."

...

You're in the bar again by nine that night, the same way you had been the day before. You're wearing a different dress and there's a different bartender, but you've ordered the same mojito and chosen the same place to sit.

Only this time, you're actively watching the door. And when Tyler strolls in, you've got to shift around in your seat and cross your legs. You don't even pretend you're not staring. You just ogle him openly. Not for the first time ever - you'd checked him out very obviously when he'd strutted towards you to introduce himself three months ago - but definitely for the first time in a while. And god yeah, he's a hunk of a man, alright. If you had your camera here right now...

But you don't. So instead, you drop your eyes to his feet (brown leather boots), drag them up his legs (blue jeans), over his chest (red checkered flannel), over his face (god, what you wouldn't give-) and finally rest them on the cowboy hat on top of his head.

When he's close enough to hear you, already grinning, of course, probably at how you're actually sitting there in the same spot as yesterday and hadn't just lied to his face about coming here, you raise your eyebrows at him.

"A cowboy hat?", you ask, your voice as unbothered as you can possibly manage (even though you're very, very, very much bothered right now). His grin only widens.

"Ladies love country boys", he drawls with a shrug.

"Now that's straight out of a song", you say. "You're getting lazy, Owens."

"A song?", he asks. "No, that's an Owens Original."

You pull your eyebrows even further up.

"Ladies love country boys? Trace Adkins?"

"Nope. Not familiar."

But his grin tells you that he's lying. He's a liar. He knows very well where he got that line from. And he knows just how easily he got under your skin with his simple trick. As if his face isn't enough already.

You just shake your head and turn away from him.

"Put your money where your mouth is, Owens. Buy me a beer."

...

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also a great conversationalist.

The hours fly by as you're talking. One beer turns into two, then into an uncountable number of soft drinks. You both agree that you need to drive home, neither of you is willing to risk a run-in with the police. You need your drivers license for your jobs.

Tyler talks to you about the pictures you've taken today, then about the pictures from last week. He laughs when you blame him for ruining half of them and almost spits out his coke when you slap his arm for laughing at you. He tells you about his crew, about the people they've helped with the money from their dumb t-shirt sales. You think you hate him less by the minute. You're not sure if you're okay with that. But he gets you talking about your childhood and your parents, about school and college and about how you've wound back up here in Oklahoma. That effectively distracts you.

That, and how his cocky grin morphs into a genuine smile the more you open up.

Not that you didn't love the cocky grin. You did, just a bit. As obnoxious as it was. But the way he smiles at you all sweet has you melting right in your spot.

It's not the first time you realise that beneath all that rough exterior, there beats a heart of gold. You've known what those t-shirt sales are for, that he offers food and water after a tornado hits a town, that he carries the injured out of the ruins of their houses and helps find lost dogs. The more you've been around him in the past weeks, the more you've seen of his soft side. Of the way he cares and supports. But in the end, it always is easier to go back to the status quo - to fall back onto mindless snark and fleeting first impressions.

You'd clung so desperately to the image of him as this arrogant, smug, holier-than-thou influencer god for the sole purpose of keeping your own sanity. Because you'd known that without despising him, you would fall head over heels for Tyler Owens, and you just couldn't have that.

But now, with his arm brushing against yours and his hat discarded on the bar top and his smile, that beautiful, beautiful smile on his lips...

"Five bucks", he drawls, already reaching for his wallet.

"What?"

"Five bucks says there won't be a tornado tomorrow."

You raise your eyebrows at him, your glass hovering in mid-air between the two of you. You'd meant to take a sip, but now you're setting it right back down on the bar top.

"You're shitting me."

Tyler just shakes his head. He's grinning again, but it's much softer this time around.

"The winds are looking great. The forecast says it's gonna be the best conditions for tornadoes we've seen in the last six weeks. I've heard Dexter talk about how we're probably gonna see an EF4 tomorrow", you tell him, even though you're sure he's well aware of all of it. This is Tyler Owens, for god's sake. He knows about the winds and the forecasts. He knows that his crew is making preparations already.

His grin only grows. And it's smug now. It's cocky now. It's everything you thought you'd left behind during this conversation. He looks like the Tornado Wrangler again, like the guy who fucks up your pictures and makes your job harder than it already is.

It takes you a second too long to realise why.

"Dexter said that on our live", he grins, as if he can't quite believe what he's hearing. You physically recoil from him. "Do you watch our streams, weather girl?"

"No", you breathe, rigid and frozen, shocked to your very core. No, no, no, no, this cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. You'd... You hadn't made that mistake. He hadn't got you to make that mistake.

"Dexter talked about tomorrow on our live", Tyler says again, straightening his back and grinning down at you like he's just uncovered the lost grave of Cleopatra. "Only on the live. You watched our stream."

"No", you mutter, your eyes wide and your mouth dry, so dry. You need to drink. You need to drink so badly. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did. You watched our stream, honey."

The petname runs down your spine and clogs your senses. Honey. Oh, he's an ass, he's an asshole! But you're on the spot, you're on the spot and he's calling you honey, honey, honey. You can't do anything but watch as he leans closer to you, grinning down at you like it's his one true purpose on this earth, like he wants to eat you alive.

"I'd say you watch our streams pretty regularly, weather girl."

You swallow hard and clasp your hand around your glass.

"Yeah?", you breathe, hoping against all hope that your voice sounds somewhat innocent. You're sure it doesn't. You know it doesn't. You probably sound as guilty as you are, but... Hope dies last. Hope always dies last. "Why would you say that?"

"Just a hunch." He shows off those pearly fucking whites for you. "Call it an instinct. I'm usually right."

He is.

He's right now. He's right usually.

Him and his fucking instinct. His goddamn gut feeling about tornadoes, always right all the fucking time. He's like an Oklahoma Jesus. The first coming of Tornado Christ.

Fuck him.

Fuck him.

"I'll take your bet." You drain your glass at once. "Give me your five bucks, Owens."

You don't think it'll work. You don't think he'll let you distract him. You don't think it'll be this easy to stop his vile teasing. He's not the type of guy to let something go. He's not the type of guy to let anything go ever. But he looks at you and he grins at you and he trails his eyes over your face and then he opens up his wallet and pulls out five dollars without another word.

He puts the bill flat on the bar top.

But when you go to reach for it, he pushes his fingers down.

"The price just went up", he says.

You raise your eyebrows and let your hand sink again. Tyler is absolutely unpredictable. You should've known.

"The price just went up?", you repeat. He nods. "What more do you want to bet?"

He's closer now, closer all of a sudden. He's too close, close enough to make your breath hitch. He's looking down at you with that cocky, cheeky grin, with his weirdly green eyes, with his three day stubble and his generally much too symmetrical face. You can't do anything but look back up at him.

"A kiss", he says. Simple as that.

A kiss.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He is. Truly. He's annoying and way too full of himself and much too presumptuous. Tyler Owens is the only man who would ever do something like this. The only man who'd bet a kiss on whether or not there will be tornadoes tomorrow.

Especially with that forecast.

The one that says a tornado is basically inevitable.

"Alright", you say. He may be Tyler Owens, the guy with an infallible instinct - but he is also Tyler Owens, the guy who's been doing his hardest to get under your skin. This time might not be any different. For all you know, he's bluffing to rile you up. "I'm in."

...

At eleven the next day, you're standing next to Dexter in resigned silence.

"I really thought today was gonna pan out", you mutter.

"It should have", Dexter frowns, tapping against the screen in his hands. "It should have worked out. The conditions should have been perfect. Everything's been building the last few days."

"But it collapsed this morning."

You turn your head and watch as Tyler comes to a stand next to you, arms crossed, eyes locked on the clear sky up above. He tilts his head to you and grins. Fuck, he's wearing his goddamn hat again. It's like he doesn't even try to be normal.

"Hey, weather girl", he greets. "Ready to cash out your bet?"

You shake your head at him. No, you're not giving up this easily. You never give up this easily.

"The day's not over yet, Owens. You haven't won 'til midnight."

...

You spend most of the next hours sitting in your truck bed, reading a book you'd thrown into your backseat weeks ago and had so far neglected. Lilly hands you lunch around two, Dani offers you a coffee around five and Boone pipes up here and there to joke about the wasted day. Around six, Dexter comes by to let you know they're calling it.

You still have another hour to go. By seven, it'll be too late to send your pictures anyway. But you want the hour. You need the hour.

You still haven't decided what to do about Tyler. About Tyler and his fucking bet.

He's been loitering the whole day, walking by, joking around with his crew, livestreaming a spontaneous q&a just because.

And the more minutes tick by, the harder it is to keep ignoring that you've most definitely lost the bet. Even though you do your best. You read, you check your phone. You stare at your radar. You stare at the weather forecast. You talk to Dexter and Dani and Lilly and Boone. You take a few pictures of the sky. Then you take a few pictures of Tyler, standing some feet away from his truck and looking out at the clouds.

It's only when two of three Tornado Wranglers cars are disappearing down the road, when Tyler Owens suddenly stands in front of your truck bed, that you put down your book and face reality.

"No tornadoes in sight", he says, instead of 'Hello' or 'How are you' like any other person would.

"There's still six hours left", you reason. Even if only one of those is relevant for your job today.

"You really want to wait out six hours to prove I'm right?"

"You're not right", you argue. It's fruitless, it's stupid, it's unreasonable. But... "Not yet, anyway."

Tyler raises his eyebrows at you, lets out an amused chuckle and leans against the side of your truck bed.

"Alright, so we wait."

You eye him from the side. He's fucking leaning against your truck, staring out at the sky, talking about six hours. Goddamn. He can't be serious, can he? His crew is already gone. They've disappeared into the descending sun and he's talking about waiting another six hours. Leaned against your car.

"Fuck's sake, Owens", you sigh, scooching over to the right. "At least sit down then."

You don't talk much at first. You just open your book back up again and try your hardest to ignore that he's even here at all, barely two feet away from you on the other side of your truck bed. If you stretched your leg, you'd hit him right in the hip.

It makes reading close to impossible.

Even though he's not doing anything at all. He's just sitting there, one arm propped up on the side board, that goddamn cowboy hat on his head and his feet hanging off the opened tailgate. It's almost worse that he's not doing anything.

That he's just sitting there and watching the sky change.

You give up on reading entirely when you realise that you've finished exactly five pages in half an hour. Instead, you put your book back in the car, pull out your bluetooth speaker and two water bottles and offer Tyler one of them.

You don't even ask him what music he wants to listen to. You just put on your country playlist and roll with it. By the twitch of his lips, you know he certainly doesn't mind.

Another half hour later, it's starting to get chilly and you're beginning to grow bored of the music. Tyler sitting next to you makes you fidgety, somehow, and you can't really enjoy the songs you usually love so much. So you switch to a podcast. You don't ask Tyler if he minds. He's free to go anytime.

Around eight, the sun starts to set, and the chill turns into an unpleasant cool. You hadn't really expected to be sitting out here so long. You're not prepared for the temperature to drop. You're wearing shorts, for god's sake, shorts and a top. It's summer in Oklahoma - you don't know how Tyler even manages to survive in his long jeans. You certainly wouldn't.

But now you're a little jealous, to be honest. He doesn't look cold in the slightest while you're fighting off shivers. You can feel your hands trembling already.

You really should've brought a jacket. But who brings jackets in 30 degree summer weather?

So instead, you just resign yourself to your fate and rub your hands along your arms. Anything to get some warmth into your body.

For the first time since you've sat back down, Tyler turns his head and looks at you.

"You're cold", he says, eyes raking over your arms and the goosebumps you'd gotten.

"Great observational skills, Sherlock Holmes", you deadpan, even though he doesn't really deserve that. He had so far left you pretty much alone. "A+ on that assignment."

Well, it's hard to break bad habits.

Tyler just chuckles, shakes his head and pushes off of the truck bed. You watch, eyes narrowed, as he walks back to his own car, opens up the trunk and- pulls out a blanket?

Your hands have sunken down to your lap all by themselves by the time he's standing in front of you again, holding out the blanket.

"For you, Watson", he grins as you slowly, carefully take the blanket from him. You mutter something along the lines of a soft 'Thank you' before you wrap the blanket around your arms.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also the very definition of "Tough on the outside, soft on the inside". Sometimes, you think the word 'angelic' works for more than just his divine looks.

Your eyes are glued to him as he sits back down next to you and looks out at the darkening sky with that signature grin on his lips, like he knows that you're watching him and enjoys it more than he should. That doesn't deter you though. For the very first time. You don't even stop staring when he turns his head back to you. You don't even stop staring then.

You just look at him until his grin crumbles. Until he's smiling that smile from yesterday night, the one that has your heart squeezing together and then exploding in your chest. You think you could stare at that smile for the rest of eternity and never feel sated.

"What?", he asks, his voice so soft it makes you swallow. Your lips part, but there's no words on your tongue, none in your throat. They're stuck in your chest somewhere, wrapped around your heart so tightly that you can't let them go even now. So you just press your lips together, wrap your blanket tighter around yourself and say:

"So I'm Watson, yeah?"

Your podcast is long forgotten by the time the sky turns dark. So dark that you make Tyler climb into your car and turn on the lights. You're comfortable in your blanket, you don't feel the need to move.

It's around ten when the blanket isn't enough anymore.

You tuck your hands underneath your top, but that only helps for so long. A few minutes later, you're trembling again, trembling even though you're pulling the blanket as tightly around you as you possibly can. Tyler raises his eyebrows when a particularly heavy shiver runs down your spine, one of those that come and go within three seconds.

"Come here", he says, shuffling in his spot and motioning for you to move over to him. You don't really think about it. It's more of a reflex as you fumble the blanket off of your body, scooch over to him, settle yourself against his side and sneak your feet under his thigh. He tugs the blanket back up to your chin, tucks it in behind your back and wraps his arms around you.

Tyler Owens wraps his arms around you.

And he's so fucking warm you literally almost moan. God, you hadn't actually realised just how cold you'd been.

"Damn, you're freezing", he notes as well, just as you nestle further into him and hum in agreement. He's like a living heater right now. You'd like to just crawl inside of him and suck up all his warmth. "You should've told me sooner."

"I didn't tell you at all", you mutter, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. He smells good. He smells so good. Earthy, musky somehow. You're tempted to turn your head and bury your nose in his shoulder.

Instead, you just satisfy yourself with what you can get. Fuck, he smells so good. He smells just like you'd thought he would, like country and rodeo and thunderstorms. He smells like falling into bed at the end of a successful chase. He smells like more. You want more.

You want more of Tyler Owens.

"Are you sniffing me?", he asks suddenly, but he sounds so amused you can't even bring yourself to feel embarrassed. You just open your eyes and grin at him, tilting your head so you can look up at him.

"What if I am?", you ask, if only to hear that breathless chuckle fall from his lips. Oh, those lips. You're in trouble. "Are you gonna call the cops on me?"

"I could never."

"Yeah, you better not, cowboy", you mutter, eyes dropping to his lips when he grins. He's so close. He's way too close. "There's like thirty things I could call the cops about on your channel."

His grin grows until he's showing off his teeth, glinting against the low light of the leds in your car. He's closer now.

"So you do watch our streams, weather girl."

His voice is so low and he's so close, so close. Your lips part all on their own. You haven't looked back up at his eyes in too long. Far too long. But he's so close, and he's so warm, and he smells so good.

"Alright", you whisper. His mouth is barely an inch from yours. You can feel every breath he takes. "I watch your streams."

And then your lips are on his.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's smug. He makes your job harder than it has to be. He does everything and anything to get under your skin. But Tyler Ownes is the best goddamn kisser this side of the globe.

He trails his hands, his big, big hands, down your sides, pushes the blanket out of the way and grabs at your waist with just enough firmness. He pulls you onto his lap and rests his thumbs over the hem of your top. He breathes into your mouth and takes it slow. He doesn't care that you almost knock his hat out of the way when you try to wrap your arms around his neck. He just holds you tightly to him and lets you tug on his lip.

You honestly don't know how much time has passed when he pulls back, grinning an entirely new grin at you, hazy and euphoric.

"It's not midnight yet", he mutters, the slightest bit out of breath.

"I don't care", you mumble, drawing him right back in for another kiss. You think you might be addicted. You simply can't get enough of him. You can't get enough of Tyler Owens.

But then a thought strikes you, and you pull away with a grin that makes him raise his eyebrows.

You chuckle against his lips.

"If you feel it, chase it, right?"

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic Idea: Catnip for Heros

Danny Fenton gains a particular reputation in Amity Park for being a "Catnip for Heros."

It started in Freshman year. Phantom was seen coming and going from his house at odd times. It wasn't a very well-kept secret- neighbors would see the glowing teenager in broad daylight.

The ghost hunters who owned the house were the only people unaware of the ghost flying out of the third window on the second floor—Danny's bedroom. At first, they thought it was a one-time thing.

Maybe the ghost wanted to have a little bit of fun now that he was stationed back in the human world? Fenton was rather good-looking when he cleaned up and could be charming when he wasn't dodging his responsibilities.

The A-listers started a rumor that Danny Fenton was relatively easy if all it took was Phantom saving him once. Still, the rumor never gained traction since Fenton seemed flustered at the most minor compliments. Instead, he seemed to jump out of his skin whenever anyone hinted of being interested in him- romantically or friends with benefits.

Never mind when his nighttime rendezvous with Phantom was brought up. Boy looked mortified to have it even suggested, as in burst into tears right then and there.

Even the A-listers weren't that mean. (Some think it was more due to their respect for Phantom than anything.)

Then Fenton was spotted flying on the hoverboard of Red Huntress, clinging to her like a damsel in distress. It would have been a simple rescue that the hero was known for doing, except she often carried him about without a ghost.

It became customary to hear her board humming through the air, Fenton either holding tight to her suffering stance or being carried in her strong arms. As usual, Red Huntress's face was completely covered, but her body language was open and friendly, curved toward Fenton as if he were the sun to her flower.

Red Huntress slowly but surely became more visible in public sight. Unlike Phantom, she normal vanished as soon as a fight was done. People speculated that she was human, but no one could prove it.

Once Dash Baxter was able to film Fenton literally kicking his feet and giggling as Red Huntress hovered in the air, one arm under his knees and the other on his back in a classic princess carry. She had bought him a street hot dog, and Fenton was acting like it was an engagement ring.

The video spread like wildfire through Casper High, and soon, people whispered that Fenton and Phantom had ended. Then two days later, a new video of Phantom flying out of Fenton's room at two in the morning was passed along by two jocks that had been out doing an extreme workout run through the city.

Students of Casper High wondered if Fenton was daring enough to two-time the town heroes. Wes put a stop to the accusations when he flagged down Huntress and asked her about Fenton's relationship with Phantom.

Of course, Wes meant that Fenton and Phantom were the same person (he was crazy like that), but everyone knew it was more about possible cheating. She shattered the thought with, "Phantom and I share Fenton," and flew away, leaving everyone with their jaws dropping.

However, what got Fenton his nickname was the day the Justice League arrived to ask Phantom for help against an invading paranormal force. It was a whole, saving the world; you're our last hope scenario.

People in Amity watched the battle updates from various news outlets. It seemed a bit touch and go for a while, but thankfully, Phantom and Batman could pull through and push back the undead. The streets of the small town flooded with cheering citizens who were overjoyed their town hero did it.

Red Huntress even flew over the city throwing "Phantom #1" foam fingers. It was cute how excited she was for her boyfriend. Fenton was notably absent during that time, but she said it was fine, so people let it go.

It put Amity Park on the map. Suddenly, everyone wanted to know about Phantom and his exploits. News crews, reporters, and even celebrity gossip rags were scouting the tiny town, looking for anything on Phantom besides "He's really old. Really powerful. Dead."

One Jimmy Olsen managed to get the most giant scoop of Earth's newest and hottest hero. It was of Phantom, leaning awfully close to a flustered-looking Fenton. One tilt of his head and their two lips would have been brushing.

Olsen took the shot, forgetting about his flash, and watched Phantom fade out of sight. Fenton looked horrified and raced away before Olsen could ask him questions.

Undeterred, Olsen spent a whole day searching for Fenton and nearly gave up until he happened to find the teenager in the local park, sitting on Red Robins's lap as the hero played with his hair. Shocked, Olsen snapped the photo, watching the two for a while, getting more and more footage. They fed each other ice cream at one point and raced back to the hotel to show Lois.

She excitably jumped on the idea of a plain civilian boy with heroes, especially after some digging showed his connection to Phantom and Red Huntress.

They decided they needed proof before pitching the idea back home, and Fenton was caught in similar positions with Orphan, Superboy (the clone on Red Robin's team), Inpulse, Blue Beatle (the younger new one), and Supergirl. All in a month.

"He's really going through them, huh?" Olsen muttered while the story was posted. The header read, "Danny Fenton: Teenage heartthrob that is Catnip for Heros!"

It's an overnight hit sensation.

Miles away, hiding his face in his hands, is Danny Fenton, surrounded by all the young heroes laughing so hard a few nearly break a rib.

"My Obsession is Protection and Love. It's not my fault I need cuddles from those I care about to function!" The teen cries after reading the somewhat scandalous article and pictures of himself.

"We know Danny," Tim assures him, tucking the boy under his chin. "Getting high off of love is a medical condition."

"Wait, does he actually get high?" Kara asks. "I thought he was just getting giggly 'cause he's cute like that."

"Nope. The emotion humans- and Kryptonians, I guess- release when love- any form of it- causes Danny to get high. Blown pupils. Seeing streaks of lights. Laughing silly. The whole sha-bang." Kon laughs, reaching out to pat Danny's shoulder. The teenager half-buried his face more in his hands with a muffled cry. "He once got so high after Bruce told him how proud he was of him that he created a duplicate and had a staring contest with it to see who had the right to the last bag of chips."

Jaime holds up the tablet, pointing to a photo. "It's the one that started this whole catnip thing. Also, how honored I am to be included in the harem? My popularity had never been higher."

"Stop!" Danny cries. This isn't funny. How am I supposed to protect my secret identity when the whole world thinks I'm "Making my way through all the young heroes?"

"You could marry me," Bart offers. "No one will expect you to run off with a speedster ironically."

"You have to go through Bruce first," Tim tells him; though there is a smile on his face, his eyes are ice cold. "And the rest of my family. Danny is destined to be a Wayne."

"Bruce can't adopt me; I have parents."

"I meant marry in love."

"Tim, now is not the time to state a claim." Kara sighs and then narrows her eyes. "Danny is going to marry into the El family."

"Not if we Allens have anything to say about it!"Bart shouts.

Kon and Jaime watch as Danny slips to the floor a smile slowly blooming on his face as various heroes start yelling at each other. "Should we tell them he's getting high right now or-?"

"Nah, it's fine."

[pickingupmymercedes]

A bit mushy - Lewis Hamilton

Let's see how Lewis and his wife do in a Couple's Interview.

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: none

wordcount: +3k

a/n: Fun and light Lewis for the win, again thanks a million times to @greedyjudge2 for the idea and for some of the questions, I know I don't usually write carefree Lewis but it's my favorite ❤️❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

_______________________________________

The room was buzzing—cameras being adjusted, light stands tweaked and a handful of crew members chatting as they waited for everything to come together.

Lewis sat comfortably on the low-slung, cushy armchair beside his wife, his hand resting casually on the back of her seat tracing lazy circles on her back. They looked impossibly relaxed, as if the cameras were invisible, and this was just another day at home.

The director, a laid-back guy with a coffee stain on his jeans and a clipboard that looked way too serious for the vibe of the shoot, strolled over.

He was juggling his phone and an energy drink, clearly a man trying to keep his cool while wrangling two of the most charismatic people in motorsports.

“Okay, so this should be easy” he started, his voice overly casual like he almost didn’t want to disturb the couple’s chemistry “No serious stuff. No PR-approved answers. We’re here for the real deal. Just answering a few questions about each other, nothing too scandalous. Think... fun, but, y’know, juicy enough to make people smile.”

Lewis’s wife, legs crossed and leaning slightly into her husband’s space, raised an eyebrow. “Define juicy” a sly smile tugging at her lips.

The director chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know, like... light-hearted scandal. Stuff people don’t already know. Maybe embarrass him a little—" he motioned to Lewis—"but in a cute way.”

Lewis shot the director a mock glare “Right, you don’t really need to ask her that” he said, his voice dripping with good-humored sarcasm.

His wife snorted, turning to face him with a grin. “Promise not to dig too deep. Unless we’re talking about those sneakers you wore to the beach...”

Lewis groaned, tilting his head back dramatically. “Not the beach sneakers again! One time and I’m branded for life.”

The crew around them snickered, and even the sound guy adjusted his headphones to cover a grin.

There was something about the way they bickered that had the whole room leaning in, as if everyone was witnessing the most intimate, casual conversation between two people who just fit.

The director, fully entertained, motioned to the cameraman to get ready. “Alright, alright. Let’s save the good stuff for the shoot. Remember, it’s just you two being yourselves. No need to put on a show.”

His wife reached over and squeezed Lewis’s hand. “No promises.”

As they shared a quiet laugh, the subtle touches and glances between them were enough to make anyone nearby smile. There was no need for grand gestures—the way they leaned into each other, how their conversations flowed effortlessly, said more than any scripted moment ever could.

They had that kind of love that made everyone else feel like they were in on something out of ordinary, just by watching.

The cameras zoomed in slowly as the couple got comfortable in their seats. Lewis leaned back, his arm still slung casually around his wife’s chair, his body slight angled so he could face her better, and she tucked one leg underneath her, turning toward him like she always did when they were in the middle of one of their many quiet conversations.

Except this wasn’t quite so quiet. The cameras were rolling now, and the world was about to get a glimpse into how they were with each other.

The director's voice came through, just loud enough to hear but never intrusive.

“Alright, let’s get this rolling. What embarrassing fashion trend did you take part in?”

Lewis immediately leaned forward, rubbing his hands together as if he was preparing for battle. “I’ll own this one. Bandanas. Wore them with everything back in the day. Thought I was some kind of rockstar or something.”

She tilted her head, eyebrows shooting up. “Bandanas?” she asked, feigning surprise. Her eyes glimmered with mischief, and she leaned closer, as if letting the audience in on a secret. “You sure it wasn’t the Timberlands?”

Lewis threw his head back with a groan, already knowing where this was headed. “Not the Timbs,” he mumbled, shaking his head like he was in actual pain.

“Yeah, the Timbs” she said, fully grinning now. “Let me remind you, you used to wear them with everything. Jeans, tracksuits, shorts, suits—”

Lewis raised a hand, stopping her, though there was a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I still stand by those, alright? I don’t care what anyone says. Timbs are timeless.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, patting his leg. “Sure, babe. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The banter between them came so naturally, it was easy to forget there were cameras pointed right at them. The crew standing around had mostly stopped what they were doing, some watching the couple with amused smirks, others clearly touched by how playful yet undeniably affectionate they were towards each other.

“Okay, next question: What first attracted you to each other?”

Lewis’s wife leaned back, narrowing her eyes like she was trying to come up with something profound. “His sense of style,” she deadpanned, lips twitching as she fought back a grin.

Lewis blinked, his head cocked to the side. “Seriously? You were just attacking my Timbs? That guy’s sense of style?”

For a moment, she held her ground, lips pursed in mock-seriousness. But after a few seconds of staring at him—his bewildered look, the way he was just waiting for her to crack—she broke. Her laugh wasn’t exactly loud but it filled the room.

“Okay, fine!” She reached out, her hand landing on his thigh, fingers curling into the fabric of his pants. “It was your eyes.”

Lewis’s eyebrows shot up as he gave her a soft smile. He just stared at her, thrown off by her sudden honesty.

She smiled, her gaze softening too as she looked at him. “They’re intense, you know? Like you see things really deeply. The way you look at the world... it’s impossible not to notice.”

Lewis was quiet for a beat, his usual witty retorts momentarily forgotten. His hand moved instinctively to cover hers on his leg, squeezing it gently. “Well, damn” he finally said, his voice quieter than before, almost reverent.

The room around them seemed to still. There was something about the way they looked at each other that made it feel like they were the only ones there, like everyone else had faded away.

“Next one—‘On what occasion have you lied to me?’”

Lewis’s eyes went wide, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he glanced at his wife. “Uh… Remember when I blamed Roscoe for loosing up your house shoes?”

Her mouth dropped open as she stared at him in disbelief. “No. You’re telling me you wore my house shoes, Lewis?!”

He winced, trying to play it cool. “I mean… It was just that one time! They looked comfy, and my feet were cold. I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Oh, I noticed,” she said, crossing her arms. “I just thought Roscoe had lied on them, not that your big feet had wrecked them!”

The crew chuckled, sensing the playful tension building between them.

“Roscoe was the perfect scapegoat…” Lewis defended himself.

“My poor baby” she sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “You threw him under the bus!”

“He didn’t seem to mind,” Lewis replied with a smirk, leaning closer to her, his tone turning softer. “But hey, I bought you new ones”

She raised a brow, clearly amused but still pretending to be serious.

“Have I ever made you jealous?”

Lewis leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, a playful smirk creeping across his face as he quipped in before she could. “She has, yes.”

His wife’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh? When exactly?”

He didn’t answer immediately, taking his time like he always did when he wanted to build up the suspense. She leaned in; her curiosity evident in the way her lips quirked. “Come on, give me the details.”

Lewis shook his head, clearly amused. “The silver dress” he said, voice low.

For a second, she didn’t react, clearly trying to place the memory. Then, like a lightbulb flicking on, her eyes widened in recognition. “Ohhh, that night!”

Her laughter exploded from her, loud and sudden, catching even the crew off guard. She leaned back in her chair, clutching her stomach slightly as she laughed, while Lewis sat there, arms still crossed, trying his best to look annoyed but clearly failing.

“That night was something” she said between laughs, her eyes shimmering with tears of amusement.

Lewis sighed, shaking his head. “I’m glad you think it was so funny.”

“Oh, babe, you were so grumpy” she teased, nudging him with her foot.

Lewis didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he just looked at her with that mix of exasperation and fondness that made it clear that, no matter what she did, she was always going to get away with it.

“What’s a song that reminds you of each other?”

This time, she didn’t even hesitate. “A Life Like This by Nao.”

Lewis’s face softened immediately. “Why that one?”

She smiled, but it wasn’t her usual teasing grin. This one was softer, more intimate. “Because... before you, I was just going through life, you know? Things were just happening, and I wasn’t really... present. Then you came along, and it was like everything shifted. It was like my Saturn return was finally over, and I could just... breathe.”

For a moment, Lewis said nothing. His face betrayed him—no amount of his typical coolness could hide the way her words hit him.

He leaned forward slightly, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re really gonna get me emotional, huh?” he murmured, his voice so low only she and the mic could pick up on his voice.

She just smiled; her eyes full of love. “That’s the plan.”

The crew exchanged looks and quiet smiles. It was impossible not to feel the connection between them, like they were watching something precious unfold right in front of them.

“What’s something you wish you did more often?”

Lewis leaned back, thinking for a moment. “Lazy mornings.”

She smiled, nodding. “Yeah?”

“Yeah” he said softly, his eyes on her. “No alarms, no schedules, no meetings. Just us. Laying in bed, talking, laughing... not worrying about what we have to do next.”

She nodded again, her smile turning wistful. “Yeah.”

Their eyes met, and once again, the room seemed to shrink around them, leaving just the two of them in their little bubble.

“Okay love birds, next up ‘What is the most treasured possession that the other has given you?’”

She paused, tapping her chin as if she really had to think about it, though the answer was clearly already on her mind. “The necklace you gave me on our third date.”

The director blinked, looking between them. “Third date?”

“Oh yeah” she nodded, leaning back in her chair, eyes sparkling as she shot Lewis a teasing look. “He was whipped by then.”

Lewis rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “You make it sound like I was proposing marriage.”

“You weren’t far off, though” she teased, reaching for the necklace hanging delicately around her neck. “He gave me this beautiful pendant, that he designed himself, by the way, and I remember thinking, ‘Okay, this guy is serious.’”

Lewis chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I knew what I wanted.”

“That you did” she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

“Yeah” he grinned. “No point in playing games.”

She looked down at the necklace again, her voice softening. “It’s not just the necklace though. It’s what it represented. He was showing me he wasn’t just there for fun—he was there for real.”

Lewis met her gaze, his smile quieter now, filled with affection. “I meant it then, and I mean it now.”

“When did you first know that you were in love?”

This time, she was the one to hesitate, a mischievous glint in her eye. “In love with whom?” she asked, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

Lewis groaned, leaning forward and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh, don’t start.”

She giggled, clearly enjoying every second of his exasperation. “I knew I loved you when we went through about a dozen paint stores in Milan looking for the perfect shade of gold for that painting.”

Lewis raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, didn’t remember that.”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I could’ve just mixed the colors myself and gotten something close. But you were so invested in finding the exact match that I just... I kept going. And I knew it then. I knew I loved you because you cared about the little things, the details that most people would overlook.”

Lewis stared at her; his face unreadable. Then, slowly, he smiled—a soft, genuine smile that seemed to melt the room around them.

“What’s your favorite memory of the two of you?”

Lewis leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “That time we missed the flight in Paris.”

She let out a groan, breaking the feeling in the room, she already knew where this story was headed. “Nooo, not that!”

“Yep,” Lewis said with a smile. “So we were in Paris, right? And someone—” he pointed at her playfully, “—was absolutely convinced that the subway would get us to the airport faster than any car could.”

“It would’ve!” she protested, already laughing. “The traffic was insane!”

“Yeah sure” he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “So there we were, dragging our bumps through the subway stations, hopping from one line to the next. Every station was like a maze, and we were so lost. I kept telling you, ‘Let’s just get a cab,’ but nooo, you were determined.”

She shook her head, smiling. “It was an adventure!”

“It was chaos and we missed the flight by hours” Lewis corrected, his voice teasing but fond.

“But honestly? It’s one of my favorite memories. You were so carefree, so determined, so in the present. We were lost in Paris but we weren’t lost within ourselves.”

Her smile softened, her eyes holding his for a long moment. “You never told me that was your favorite memory.”

“Yeah” he said quietly, his voice more sincere now. “I felt like we could just... slow down. Be present. No pressure, no expectations. Just you and me.”

For a moment, they were silent, the weight of his words settling between them. The room around them was so still that the soft hum of the cameras was the only sound. The crew watched them closely, as if holding their collective breath.

She leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder, and whispered just loud enough for the microphones to catch “I think that’s my favorite memory now, too.”

Lewis smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, and for a few seconds, it was like the cameras weren’t even there. It was just them, lost in a shared memory, a world of their own.

The director, sensing the intimacy of the moment, cleared his throat gently.

“Alright, now to wrap this up ‘When can we expect little Hamiltons running around?”

Both Lewis and his wife exchanged quick glances, and almost in unison, they burst out laughing—only this time, their laughter had a bit of an edge, like they knew something the room didn’t.

Lewis leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands together. “Ooooh, good one.”

“You had to go there, didn’t you?” she added, her eyes wide with exaggerated innocence. “Real smooth.”

The crew, sensing the couple was playing coy, leaned in just a bit, waiting for a juicy response. But instead, Lewis leaned forward, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Well, you never know, right?”

His wife smirked, glancing at him sideways, playing along. “When you least expect it”

The director, not quite satisfied, pressed on. “Any plans in the near future?”

“Oh, besides, like, tomorrow’s plans?” she quipped, keeping the teasing energy alive.

Lewis chimed in again, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “We’ve got a lot of plans. Travel, Roscoe’s bath time…”

The director chuckled, shaking his head. “Dodging the question, I see.”

Lewis gave a knowing look to the camera, adding one final, cryptic comment. “We’ll let you know when it happens... maybe.”

And with that, they both smiled at the cameras, their laughter filling the air as the director called “cut” for the final time.

The room gradually came back to life, the hum of equipment being packed up and crew members chatting quietly filling the air. The couple stayed seated, though, still caught in the gentle pull of their shared moment, almost unaware of the bustling scene around them.

Lewis exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing as he glanced at his wife, his arm instinctively pulling her a little closer. She smiled, still leaning into him, her head resting against his shoulder, fingers absentmindedly playing with his fingers.

“That was a bit mushy, wasn’t it?” she murmured, a teasing lilt to her voice, though there was warmth in her eyes as she gazed up at him.

Lewis smirked, brushing his thumb gently against her arm. “Just a little. But you started it.”

She chuckled softly, nuzzling into his shoulder. “Tou’re not usually one for getting all sentimental on camera.”

He shrugged lightly, but there was no real defensiveness in his posture.

She smiled, her heart swelling at the softness in his gestures. “Good. I like you better that way.”

She sighed softly, sitting up a little and stretching her arms out with a satisfied groan. “People are going to think we’re a pair of softies.”

Lewis chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “Let them.”

She smiled, sitting back in her chair and looking at him with a tenderness that only deepened as she reached out, her hand cupping his cheek for a brief moment. “I guess it’s not the worst thing to be.”

He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly before he opened them and looked straight at her. “Nah, it’s not.”

Unbeknownst to them, the cameras were still rolling—just a little, a behind-the-scenes shot meant to capture those moments of candidness. The crew tried to keep their distance, giving the couple their space, but every now and then, someone would glance over, a quiet smile tugging at their lips. There was something undeniably magnetic about Lewis and his wife, the way they moved around each other, the way they fit together.

Without thinking, he stood up and extended a hand to her, pulling her up from her seat. As she stood, she let out a small laugh, one that was soft and filled with affection. But before she could fully straighten up, Lewis slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest in a gentle, protective embrace.

For a second, she stiffened—more out of surprise than anything—but then she melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was a simple gesture, nothing extravagant, but in that moment, it was everything.

“Alright, lover boy” she murmured, her voice laced with contentment. “What’s all this about?”

“Just holding you” he replied simply, his voice low and soothing, the kind of tone he used when it was just the two of them, no audience, no pressure. “Feels like we haven’t had a minute to ourselves in forever.”

She smiled as she found her place on the crock of his neck, her fingers absently tracing circles on the back of his neck “You’ll get them,” she promised quietly. “We’ll make time.”

Eventually, Lewis pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know,” he started, his tone teasing “about those Timbs.”

She groaned, playfully swatting at his chest. “I thought we agreed to leave the Timbs in the past.”

“I never agreed to that” he grinned, tightening his arms around her playfully. “I’m still rocking them, remember?”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face betrayed her. “Well, at least one of us has evolved.”

He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to her head. “Maybe. But you love me anyway.”

“I do,” she said softly, the sincerity of the words wrapping around them both like a warm blanket. “I really do.”

______________________________________________________________

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[madwomansapologist]

──────〃✰ KINKTOBER DAY 1: 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏 𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑

title: poker face synopsis: luckily, mr. zero didn't knew you were a mugiwara. luckily, mr. zero fell for your bluffs. unfortunately, you never imagined it would be that hard to not fall for crocodile's charm. [3.1K] cw: mugiwara!fem!reader, strip poker, strip tease, public sex, cock crush, nipple stimulation, size difference, fingering (f!receiving), riding, biting, scratching, finger sucking, p in v, creampie, possessive behavior, mob boss meets a baddie, pussy so good he wonders about marriage.

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With a thick cigar between his teeth, Crocodile forced himself to smile. “Five of a kind”, he dropped his cards on the table. “Seems like the house won. Again.”

Crocodile’s presence in Rain Dinners works to reinforce his reputation as a hero in this wretched island. Unfortunately, it also means Crocodile is tormented by the most boring clientele.

To watch someone gambling everything they own out of delusional hope and losing it all because of sheer mischance is only interesting the first few hundreds of times. Now, all Crocodile feels is disdain.

He curses those vermin that stole the joy of victory.

Murmuring complaints, two bettors left the table. The croupier stretched his arm, reaching for the cards left far away from him. As the cards were shuffled, Crocodile took in the chance to observe the tables nearby. Searching for chaos to be dealt with, such a common occurrence in a casino, an unusual sight stole his attention.

A long, thick, light pelted fur coat. Crocodile inhaled the smoke, holding it in. Admiring you with that coat over your shoulders, no one would’ve imagined this is the middle of a desert. And still, you didn’t break a sweat.

One of the bettors decided it was the right moment to thank Crocodile for his protection over Alabasta. He did his best to sound modest, heroic. To embody the last hope of this dying island. The moment a white blur entered his peripheral vision, Crocodile simply ignored the man’s existence.

With a hand over the chair’s top rail, you stared directly at the croupier. “May I?”, you asked, voice sultry as the desert.

Crocodile took the cigar out of his mouth, releasing the smoke in the direction opposite from you. “Made just in time”, he moved his hand towards the croupier ready to start. “Do you know how to play, hon’?”

You took a sip from your glass, not bothering to answer him. Placing your coat over the chair’s rail, you reached inside its pocket and took the poker chip’s box. You left it open on the table, emerald dress moving on your body as you sat down and crossed your legs.

The box was filled to the brim.

Your lack of interest on him ignited something within Crocodile. Curiosity. Something far more interesting than gambling against weak bluffs. “New to poker?”, Crocodile smiled devilish. The sort of smile that make pretty women like you forget about decency.

If only you had looked at him.

“New to this island”, you answered, sounding as bored as Crocodile was before you got there. The way you danced around his question was enough for him to know you didn’t want the others to think of you as an easy target. Usually, Crocodile would simply profit on it. This time, with you staring straight into his eyes, he couldn’t care less about this game. “Is it worth?”

“It will be.”

A promise Crocodile intended to fulfill.

Feeling his gaze burning your skull, to not smile was never so difficult. If you were weaker, you would’ve laugh until your cheeks fell apart from your face. How funny. How alluring. Ah, Luffy really told you the truth.

Your life will be funnier around me, Luffy gave you the brightest smile you ever saw. Stroking your cheek, he cleaned the trace of tears. I will never let you get bored.

A Shichibukai stands before you, unable to see you as part of the threat he is so interest in dealing with. The man that sent thousands of bounty hunters after your crew, that forced Vivi to witness as unnecessary violence tore her nation in pieces, doesn’t even know that you’re part of the group he wants to exterminate.

Good. That means the plan of distracting Crocodile has a chance of working.

Each bettor made an initial contribution for the deal to start. At every round, you raised the amount of chips. It didn’t matter if others were dropping out of the deal or if Crocodile doubled the bet with no hesitance. You simply continued to bet more.

That was alluring. It told more about you than your pretty lips could. You’re not here to make money. You’re not here to waste it. You’re here for amusement. And that Crocodile can give you any time.

“Showdown”, the croupier called. “Please, bettors, show your hands.”

The woman sitting beside you sighed, showing two pairs. Two bettors had dropped out, choosing to wait until the next deal. You placed your cards on the table. 4, 3, K, 10, 10. One pair. “Does that mean anything?”

The first man to drop out chuckled. “Only that you lost.”

Lost in the way your smile spread across your face, the croupier had to remind Crocodile it was his time to show the cards. “Three of a kind”, he murmured. This time, he put no effort into acting as if he cared that he won. Crocodile just wanted to learn more about you. “Do you know the rules?”

“Does it really matter?”, your bright smile was enough to enlighten the whole place. As the croupier changed the card sets, you gave him your solely attention. “The best liar wins at the end.”

“No surprise you haven’t won yet”, Crocodile smirked. He spread his legs, cigar between his fingers. His golden hook glistened, reminding you of the threat he represented simply by breathing. “It’s so easy to see right through you.”

But not to see how I stole all those chips from you, was what you thought. “Seems like a failure of mine”, was what you said out loud.

With a movement of his hand, a waiter approached. Crocodile whispered into his ear; eyes still fixated on you. Intoxicated on his presence, you forgot to look away. What a tempting man. From then on, your glass never remained empty.

Deal after deal, you continued to lose just as Crocodile continued to win. Deal after deal, you continued to answer just as Crocodile continued to ask.

Until there were only you two left at the casino. You let go of your glass and closed the poker chip’s box, raising from the chair. “Should have expected a pirate to be a good gambler.” You took your coat, walking away from the table. “Have a good night, Crocodile.”

“One last deal?” Crocodile was quick to offer. Desperately, you would add. “And then we call it.”

You raised the empty box. “I have nothing left to bet.”

And at that, Crocodile saw his last chance of amusing you. “Then let’s bet everything we have.”

Sat down again, chin supported by your palm, you frowned. The wine had started to affect you both. “And by that you mean…”

“Everything”, Crocodile spread his legs, resting his hook on his thick thigh. You told yourself he was begging for you to stare, but you weren’t that sure of it. “Every chip on this table. Everything on our bodies.”

As he closed his mouth, a part of Crocodile feared his proposition would offend you. It doesn’t happen often, but there is a chance he misread your signals.

“I’ve been eyeing your rings since I sat here”, you wondered out loud. “Just as you been eyeing my dress.”

But to be so straight to the point… Crocodile wasn’t quite expecting that. It was what he wanted, but to see how you two were connected made harder for him to breath.

Then you sighed.

“As tempting as it is,” and you were standing again. Crocodile hated to see that. He would hate even more to see you leaving. “It is also getting late. Like I said, I’m new to this island.”

“You have nothing to fear”, Crocodile bargained. “Not when I’m around.”

“But you won’t be around on my way back to the hotel.”

“Then stay here”, he offered. You arched an eyebrow. “I don’t intent on letting you walk away that easily. I’m a pirate. I’m used to taking what I want for myself.”

For an eternity, you both stared into each other’s eyes. A silent negotiation. His final offering, your final chance of doing the right thing and walking away from danger. You could see his very soul. How it burned just beneath the surface. Crocodile felt the same heat coming from you.

The croupier forced a cough, remind you of his presence. It took much of his strength for Crocodile to not kill him right then and there.

“Shuffle the cards and leave”, you ordered.

He obeyed. Quickly. You both took a look at your cards sets. A smile died within you. A smirk grew on Crocodile’s face. The moment the croupier closed the exit door, Crocodile showed his hand.

Crocodile looked even bigger than he already was, filled with the confidence of a winner. “Four of a kind.”

Dropping your hand on the table, you were the winner he believed to be. “Royal flush”, you smiled. “Pretty sure that’s the highest since we’re not using any wild cards.”

Shock was a good look on Crocodile. After analyzing your cards, his gaze returned to you. “You said you didn’t know how to play.”

“Oh”, you drank the last sip from your glass. “Did I?”

And at your answer, all he could do was laugh. Crocodile ran his hand through his black hair. “You hustle me”, he whispered. Crocodile wasn’t able to get rid of this genuine smile.

Your laugh was real too. It made Crocodile breath in your scent, get drunk on the sweet sound coming from you. Not a bluff, not an act. It was real, and it only made you more beautiful. “And now you have a debt to pay.”

His face darkened, reminding you of who he is. You hustled Crocodile. You hustled Crocodile. You never thought of yourself as a stupid woman, but here you are. For fucks sake. Luffy really is rubbing on you.

Crocodile bended over the table, his broad shoulders creating a shadow over you. His hand grabbed your chair’s arm, his hook moving your chin upwards. A strand of hair fell in front of his orange eyes, and looking into them you felt like a powerless prey about to be ravished.

Face lurking inches above yours, Crocodile smiled devilish. A smile that made you forget about decency, focusing only on the promise of more of him. More of the man that wants to kill you. “Enjoy the show”, Crocodile whispered.

His blue scarf was the first to be throw away, and neither of you cared about where it would land. His long fingers worked on the buttons of the rumpled black-striped vest, so slowly you almost took it off of Crocodile by yourself.

The peach shirt beneath showed a portion of his wide chest and instead of finally getting rid of it, Crocodile held the leather belt around his waist.

He had so much fun teasing you, admiring how you couldn’t look away. A man as handsome must feel entitled to the silent praise. He really thought he was the one in charge, didn’t he? And for long enough, Crocodile was.

You’re a lot of things, but you’re not patient.

Leaning against the chair, you raised your leg. The silver heel brushed against his pants, from down on his ankle until the insides of his thigh. And when your painted nails shined right in front of his crotch, you forced your feet against it.

“Stop playing around.” Cocking your head, eyes explored his still covered up body. “Don’t make me wait.”

Crocodile grabbed your ankles, calloused hand stroking softly your skin. It wasn’t a rough touch, but not less possessive because of it. You put more pressure, making him groan. “You are insane.”

“And why is that?”

“Anyone else would fear me”, Crocodile’s voice reminded you of velvet and sharp knives. It lingered on your ears. “And here you are. Demanding more.”

You sighed, fingers brushing against your lips. That voice… it was your last straw. Fighting his hold, you put your foot down on the ground. You grabbed his shirt, pushing him back until Crocodile sat down on his chair again.

He opened his mouth as you sat down on his lap, but you gave him no time to do anything. “You talk too much.”

Holding the chair’s top rail as leverage, you dive into him. Tooth biting his lower lip, tongue forcing a passage into his warm mouth. Your free hand found a spot on his large neck, bringing Crocodile closer to you. Instead of waiting, you took what you wanted for yourself.

Just like a pirate would.

She isn’t fragile, Crocodile thought. She won’t break.

Sinking into you, Crocodile forgot about self-control. He simply ravished you, just like you demanded of him. A wild animal and nothing more. Exploring your mouth as if it was his to control, hand grabbing your soft skin without a care about finesse or decorum. Crocodile pressed his hook against your chest, enjoying how it didn’t stop you from moving as you wanted to.

You got him out of that stupidly tight shirt, hands scratching his chest as your hips moved on top of his crotch. He forced you down, putting your whole weight upon himself, and ripped your emerald dress into pieces with his hook.

“You’ll pay for this one.”

It was a complain, but your fingers working to unbutton his pants made clear you couldn’t care less. His kisses travelled to your neck, tongue leaving a trail of drool on your shoulder, mouth closing against your nipples. Your fingers intertwined with his hair, encouraging Crocodile to continue.

“I will get you anything you want”, he said, voice muffled. He couldn’t get away from your body to speak. “You burn hotter than the fuckin desert.”

No shame, no hesitation. Freed from his pants, you licked your palm before grabbing his cock. You pumped him with zero delicacy, thumb pressing against the dark, sensitive head. Just like everything in Crocodile, it was big enough to make you wonder.

As if he could read you mind, Crocodile slid his hand into your panties. Long fingers explored your lips, precise with every movement. Thumb pressing against your clit, two fingers against your wet slit. His hook brushed against your thigh, arm locking around you to press you down on his fingers.

Your loud moan embarrassed your very soul, but all Crocodile did was laugh. His teeth closed around your neck, biting hard enough to make you whimper. That’ll mark you for sure. “Ride me, hon’.”

With your nails deep into his back, you stretched yourself on Crocodile’s fingers. You bit his earlobe, brushing your face against his as you speed up your movements. In your hand, his cock throbbed. Crocodile was leaking, burning in the same way you do.

“Take what you want”, you whispered against his ear. “Fuck me already.”

It happened so quickly, you barely understood how he moved. A second before you were on his lap, two fingers deep into your hungry cunt, lips around his ear. Then you were sat on the table, poker chips falling on the floor, Crocodile standing between your legs.

A fucking monster.

Crocodile took his drenched fingers from you, and wasted no time before sucking them clean. He grabbed your thighs, exposing yourself from him. “She’s delicious”, Crocodile stared at your pussy. His fingers pulled your lips apart. “Will get me addicted to her.”

Using your legs, you got him even closer to you. Crocodile grabbed your hair, pulling you into a messy kiss. Fighting against your tongue, he fit the head of his cock into you. You moaned into his mouth.

Moving your heels against his thighs, you forced him inside of you. A stupid decision. Your head collapsed against his shoulder, the entirety of his length touching all the right places. So good, so right, so… much.

Crocodile wasn’t in that much of a better situation. Eyes closes tightly, lips hanging open as a deep cry escaped. So wet, so warm. Moving slowly, Crocodile chortled. He had no control over his mind anymore.

“Don’t you dare stopping”, you manage to say. “Just… fu-fuck, just like that.”

Deep thrusts as his fingers worked on your clit: Crocodile wouldn’t dream of doing anything other than you wanted. He could feel your drool gathering on his shoulder. How your fingers were deep into his forearms, or how the hold of your legs around his waist weakened.

All Crocodile wanted was to make you as addicted to him as he already was to you. To get you to scream his name, begging for more and more. He wanted you to take from him. To get what you wanted. And Crocodile wanted everything you could give him.

Feeling waves of pleasure washing over you, mind empty as a white canvas, you tilted your head back. Eyes half-open, you admired him. His raw lips, face covered in sweat. Marks of lipstick all over his chest, just as deep nail marks and surface scratched. You looked down, watching as he entered you.

“You are worth way more than eighty million.”

Crocodiled bended, tongue playing with your aching nipple. “After my head, hon’?”, he sucked on them. You stroked his hair, enjoying how primal Crocodile looked.

“Do I look insane?”, you moaned.

Crocodile looked into your eyes, face near yours. You placed your arms around his shoulders, but he held you in place. Crocodile simply looked at you. As if there was something new, something he never saw before.

“You do”, Crocodile whispered. It felt so intimate. For a moment, you weren’t being fucked in an empty casino. For a moment, you two were sharing a secret. “You’re perfect.”

You melted against him. Lost on your orgasm, you unlearned how to breath. The fact you couldn’t think didn’t stop Crocodile from kissing you. As you closed around him, Crocodile reached his limit. Tooth deep into your throat, he marked you again.

Tears formed behind your eyes, throat aching as you finally breathed again. You laid your head on his chest, feeling it rising with his unregulated breathes. A firm hand held your waist, his nose stopped in the union of your shoulder and neck. His biting hurt so good, just like your scratches on his skin.

When Crocodile opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was his hand holding onto the table. He looked at the fours rings you said caught your attention. And he saw how there was only one finger lacking a ring.

Insane, Crocodile thought. She’s making me insane.

As his hips moved away, a cry left your throat as he emptied your pussy, your legs finally stopped working. Crocodile took his cigar from the ashtray, smoking it for a few seconds. When he released the smoke, you grabbed his chin and made him face you. Inhaling it, you closed your eyes.

Not a second after you let it go, his hand and hook slid beneath your thighs. Effortlessly, Crocodile took you from the table. Your shaken legs closed around his waist as he carried you. “What you doing?”

Crocodile finally looked into your eyes again. He smiled, and it was genuinely. “Taking what I want for myself.”

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[nanivinsmoke]

❥ Make U Love Me

logan ‘wolverine’ howlett x mutantfem!reader

♪ you’re tired of going places where you can’t scream and shout ♪

tags: featuring the biggest asshole, scott! cheating, a little angst, violence, mentions of blood and death, slight exhibitionism, kissing, edging, dom logan, sub reader, creampie, pregnancy, oral, multiple orgasms, falling in love, etc…

note: heavily inspired by robin thicke’s song with the same title. wc: 4.7k — put my heart into this.

you were scott’s girl. nothing more, nothing less.

it wasn’t what you thought it would be, well back then at least.

scott was loving when you two first started dating. he would take you out, treat you like a queen, and was very attentive. but, that all started to change when his first love died in the midst of battle. jean grey.

the day she died, is the day your relationship did too. that same guy you fell in love with, turned into the guy you hated. everything stopped. he was no longer the perfect boyfriend, he was more of a royal asshole.

he wouldn’t make love to you, he wouldn’t put you on missions with him and when you confronted him about the change—it would always end in a fight. you didn’t deserve this, you knew you didn’t. but, you couldn’t break up with him. that small piece of your heart wouldn’t allow you.

you knew there was a part of him that still loved you. well, you thought he did. that all changed when you and the crew got the news. jean was alive.

“i don’t want you going after her, scott! what’s so hard to understand about that?” you raised your voice, brushing past your boyfriend and putting the onions you just chopped into the hot skillet—continuing your recipe for tonight’s dinner.

when the professor told everyone that she was alive, scott’s ears perked up and practically begged the professor to let him be the one to go and find her. charles urged scott that it wasn’t a good idea. something could go wrong and she might no longer be the jean we all knew….she could be possessed by an evil force. the dark phoenix.

but, of course scott wasn’t trying to hear that. his mind was clouded with thoughts of the red head. he was still deeply in love with jean. just the thought of her had him going crazy. you knew it and it pissed you off, which brought upon the current argument you two were having now.

“what i don’t understand is why not? she’s one of us! i have to bring her back, with or without your permission!” you turned to him, eyes slowly turning into a deep red; the flames from the stove started to rise—searing the vegetables that sat in the iron pan.

scott started to slowly back up, swallowing thickly as you inched closer to him; afraid of what you might do next. he locked his visor onto the burning food, which he tried to pull your attention on to, but you didn’t budge. that is until you heard someone clearing their throat.

your eyes went back to its normal state and you calmed down once you took a look at logan, who stood there watching the whole ordeal. you looked back at the food and turned the stove off before looking back your boyfriend, “come back with her and see what happens, scott.”

———

you didn’t come out of your bedroom for dinner that night and neither did he. hell, you barely got any sleep last night—too busy tossing and turning in your bed, thinking about scott and jean together. and when you finally did get some sleep, the sun started to peak over the horizon—a beautiful hue of orange painting the sky.

when you finally woke up, you pulled yourself into a much needed hot shower, before putting on your favorite pair of flare jeans and a cute top paired with some leather boots—heading downstairs to see what was happening for today. the children passed by, running and walking to hangout after class, while you made your way down the wooden stairs—looking for your boyfriend.

you wanted to talk to him about yesterday, hopefully to make peace with what transpired—but it seems like he had other plans when you spotted him holding hands & walking with the newly resurrected jean. and to top it all off, he was wearing a big toothy smile like he was kid in a candy store. oh you were pissed.

they disappeared further into the mansion as you stormed downstairs—eyes darkening while you were hot on their tails, ready to confront them; that is until you were trapped between two big muscle bound arms. “let me go logan!” you tried to free yourself from his grasp, but there was no use. he wasn’t letting you go.

“need you to cool off. don’t need you to go all ‘flame on!’ on them today.” he chuckled and ushered you towards the front door, both of you going towards the academy’s garage and pulling off in his car.

you tossed back your shot of vodka, grimacing at the strong burning sensation, before tapping your glass for more. logan had took you to a bar, so you could drink to your hearts content and stop that flame from igniting within you.

“he’s a fucking asshole.” you spoke, downing your drink again then turning to look at the male sitting right next to you. he nodded in agreement and sipped on his whiskey, letting you vent to him.

“I feel like such an idiot, falling in love with someone who doesn’t love me.”

“his fault he couldn’t see what right in front of him.” you passed, wide eyed, looking at the side of his rugged face while he finished off his drink. what did he mean by that?

“pretty lil thing like you deserves to be treated like a princess, not by someone like him.” his compliment made you press your thighs together and shift in your seat.

“and who’s gonna treat me like one?” you hummed, placing your hand on his arm, pressing against him. it might been the liquid courage that had you feeling so bold, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

logan grunted and smirked, shaking his head before his pretty hazel eyes locked on yours, “careful, doll. don’t know what you might be getting yourself into.”

“maybe i do~” you flirted back, lips ghosting his ears, making goosebumps rise on his skin. you wanted him badly right now. you didn’t care that the two of you were out in a bar, it made no difference. you wanted to take him right here and now.

“let’s play some pool.” he got up from his seat and grabbed your hand, making you sigh in response. maybe you were getting ahead of yourself?

———

the two of you played pool for the next couple of hours. logan was surprised to see that you were really good at the game, even more shocked that you had him on a losing streak. “good thing you didn’t put money on it.” you teased, striking the 8ball into one of the holes, winning your fifth game for the night.

“would ask you to play another game, but it’s time we get back to the mansion. bar’s bout to close.” he pointed out and you took a look around, seeing only four patrons left and the bartenders cleaning their glasses. you pouted and racked the balls back into the middle of the table, before grabbing logan’s hands and leaving the bar.

the two of you stood outside of the car for a bit, logan puffing on his cigar while you enjoyed the night’s cool breeze—mind running rampant with what happened in the bar between you and him.

“lo—“ you began, making him turn his attention towards you—the sight of him blowing out smoke did something to you; everything about the male aroused you. why didn’t you see him like this before? maybe you would’ve been happier with him.

“can i kiss you?” you breathed out, stepping closer to him; body heat overpowering the crisp air outside. “doll….” he began, but you stopped him—not ready for him to reject your feelings just yet.

“I know you felt something in there with me. if i felt it, i know you did. so, kiss me. prove me wrong….” you pulled him by his flannel, eyes sparkling with hope and desire; as they flickered to his lips. he searched your face, before he flicked his cigar on the ground and pulled you in close—his lips melting on yours.

you wrapped your arms around his neck while his hands moved to the middle of your back, before falling to your ass—squeezing the plump flesh through your jeans. as much as he wanted to pull back, he didn’t—you were so addictive, he just had have all of you.

his tongue slipped into your mouth and he picked you up and placed you on the hood of the car—kiss becoming passionate by the moment. the taste of the cigar he just smoked and traces of his whiskey had your mind spinning, and your cunt throbbing. “logannn~”

“i know, princess. smelled how bad you wanted it inside of the bar.” he grunted and his thick fingers quickly unfastened your jean’s button, tugging them down slightly—before he slipped his hand into your pants, rubbing your throbbing clit through your yellow panties.

“shit you’re soaked. he’s never made you feel like this, right?” he grunted in your ear, pulling your panties to the side and finally connecting the tips of his fingers to your aching clit, rubbing it slowly.

“no never, he never made me wet like this—fuck—only you lo~” the sweet moan you let out drove him insane, it fueled him and he couldn’t help but to quicken his pace; making your back arch off the hood of the car. gasping, you reached down to hold onto his wrist, trying to stop his pleasurable torment—but it did nothing. he kept going, making you buck your hips up into his palm.

“so needy. summers is such an idiot for letting this go.” logan moves his fingers down to your sodden hole, palm pressing right down onto your clit, making your body jolt in response. despite the tight confinement of your pants, his hand was able to work wonders on your lower half—pumping in and out of your cunt.

you gushed over his fingers each time it hit your spot. the pressure that was building up in the pit of your tummy was becoming unbearable. you desperately needed to let go, show him how good he made you feel.

“gonna cum—all over your fingers!” you warned, eyes starting to roll back into your head as you felt that feeling you loved so much start to burst. that is, until he pulled his fingers away. your eyes shot opened and you watched him suck your juices off of his digits.

“gotta get you home, doll” he fastened your pants and helped you off the hood of the car; before going to the passenger side, opening the door for you. shooting daggers at him as you stomped your way to the car, you watched as he hopped in the driver seat—ignoring your stares.

you didn’t bother opening your mouth to speak either. too frustrated, tired and horny to talk. so, you opted to lay your head against the window and watched as the trees became blurred on the way back to the mansion.

as logan pulled the car up the school’s drive, you could see the resurrected red head and scott standing outside—their lips glued on one another. you shared a look with logan and shook your head. you didn’t have the energy anymore, it was obvious where his heart lied.

getting out of the car, the two pulled back once they noticed the both of you approaching—scott looking like he had seen a ghost. “baby! i-i—“

“go to hell scott” brushing past them, you slowly made your way to your room—logan a few feet behind. logan looked at scott and just shook his head. idiot.

he just planted you right into his hands, and boy was he going to keep you there.

———

the following weeks started to get better and better for you. getting closer to logan was the best thing to ever happen to you. the two of you would spend almost everyday together, most of the days ended with you finally getting to cum around his fingers and all over his face. you were happier, almost like you were in the beginning before scott ruined it. and he noticed it to.

but, you didn’t care what he thought about what you were doing. he ruined his chances of being happy with you ever again and he knew it.

currently you and logan were in an empty class room, with him between your plush thighs; working a third orgasm out of you for today. small hands were tangled in his soft brown locs—tugging them as you grinded your orgasm out on his face. logan pulled away once you calmed down, his beard and half of his face being covered in your slick—which he happily licked up; well what he could.

he helped you off the table and pulled your skirt up while peeling your cold wet panties off. “these? are for me,” you blushed, watching him put them in his pocket before pulling you close. his hands fell to your rear and those eyes that you loved to get lost in, stared right at you; before he pressed his lips against yours.

you melted in the kiss. your body relaxing as the two of you moved in sync, hands moving across each other’s bodies. ever since that day at the bar, you noticed a change in yourself. a change you slowly welcomed. love. you were falling deeply in love with the wolverine. it was different type of love you and scott had. this one felt like one of those love’s where you could see the two of you grow old and have a bunch of mutant babies.

you wanted to tell him how you felt, how he made you feel, but you were scared. scared that he might reject you. so, you opted for the latter. being his friend with benefits.

“logan, I wanna suck your dick~” you pulled back, eyes traveling down to his noticeable bulge, then back up at him.

“don’t wanna hurt you princess. plus ive got a class in fifteen minutes,” he warned and you smirked, slowly sinking down to your knees. “so? ill make you cum in ten~”.

the clinking sound of his belt being dropped to floor, along with his pants, filled the room. he watched with low eyes as you pulled his fully erect length out—cock twitching when he heard you gasp. you now understood why he never fucked you, he was way too big. there was no way your walls would survive that, right?

your mouth salivated at the sight and you could slowly feel yourself becoming even more aroused. gripping his cock and swiping your tongue over the tip, you moaned at the taste of his sweet precum, before you took him into your mouth. he tossed his head back, loving the feeling of your warm wet mouth around him, while you slowly started to take him even deeper.

his big hands practically flew to the back of your head when he felt you gag around him, once he hit the back of your mouth, slowly creeping into your throat.

“did you just cum? hm, princess?” he locked eyes with you, smelling the familiar scent of your arousal—knowing exactly how you smelled when you came.

you whimpered, still slobbering all over his cock before the grip on your head got tighter and he pressed your pretty little head down harder; nose nuzzled in his bush of brown hairs.

you gagged, but he didn’t give you time to adjust as he continued to repeat his actions—pulling you off of his cock by your hair before forcing you right back on; fucking your mouth to his liking. the more he moved the more arousing it became for the both of you, causing you to relax your throat, letting him fill it with his thick cock.

the sound of you gagging and sucking on his cock along with the smell of your cunt dripping with excitement, had the six foot two man going feral. his pretty eyes fluttered in the back of his head and he forcefully pushed your head deep in his bush— letting out one of the sexiest growls you ever heard as he poured thick ropes of cum down your throat.

the warm sensation had you dripping right onto the classroom’s wooden floors, moaning at his taste before you swallowed. his grip loosened and you pulled back, gasping for air.

“told ya i could make you cum~”

———

finding yourself back into your room, you were scared by the dark figure sitting on your bed; making you jump out of your clothes like a cartoon character. flickering on the light, scott sat on your bed wearing a plain look on his face.

“the hell you doing in my room, scott?” you kicked off your shoes, glaring at the brunette. he adjusted his visor before getting up, towering over you a bit.

“you and logan been really close lately. what’s up with that?” you stared at him before giggling. he wasn’t possibly serious? you ignored him and tried to move around him, only for him to grab you and pull you back.

“grab me again and that’ll be the last thing you’ll ever do. get out of my room and go be with jean. me and you are finished.” you stared into his ruby red colored visor, making sure he got the point. the mutant scoffed and shook his head, “fine. go be a whore for logan, sure he’d love that.”

you didn’t even give him time to react before sending a fire induced smack to his face, causing him to yell out from the painful sensation. he was quick to recover, ready to aim his optic lasers at you; until a fist came flying at him—knocking him to the ground. logan stood there for a minute, taking a look at you to make sure you were alright, before pouncing on scott.

you watched as logan nearly beat him bloody before stepping in, tugging on his black button up—begging him to stop. however, the raspy voice of the professor entered all of your minds, stopping everyone’s movements.

‘the dark phoenix has risen and attacked me. jean grey is no longer with us. teachers, meet me in the infirmary’

logan looked at you and grabbed scott, slinking him around his shoulders, “go meet me in the infirmary. im gonna take him to his room and have hank look after him.” you nodded and practically raced to the infirmary, meeting the rest of the x-men. they surround xavier’s comatose body, talking amongst each other about what was going on, until ororo started speaking.

“the professor was attacked a few minutes ago by the x-men we once knew as jean grey. however, the friend we knew and once loved is now gone and is being possessed by a dark entity. this being is catastrophic and we must stop it before it’s too late—” she paused and took a look at her fellow mutants, before raising an eyebrow.

“where’s scott?”

“he’s out of commission for a while. ill catch him up later.” logan’s arm snaked around you waist, appearing behind you and answering her question. she nodded and continued with the details of the mission, before listing out names of those who would be on it.

you and logan were the main frontmen for this mission. storm had converged a plan on how it should go down, along with a plan b; warning you guys that there’s a slight chance it might end bad. she put her faith in you and the team, before dismissing everyone. the mission would take place tomorrow.

———

sitting on logan’s surprisingly soft bed, you relaxed while he was in the shower. your mind was running rampant about what could possibly happen tomorrow. being that this could possibly be the end, frightened you, especially since you haven’t told him how you felt.

“logan?” you called out, listening to the calming sound of the shower running.

“yeah?” he responded and you got up from his bed and stripped out of your clothes, joining him in the shower. the sight of his nude, wet body was breathtaking. so very breathtaking, that you couldn’t help but break down and cry—sobbing as the warm water painted your face.

those thick eyebrows raised and he immediately pulled you close, rubbing circled on your back; along with rubbing your head. “hey, talk to me. won’t be able to understand you when you’re crying like this, princess.”

you nodded in his hairy chest before pulling back, sniffling. this was the time to let it all out, let him know how you feel.

“i love you. i love you so fucking bad, logan. you’re all i think about. i think about us getting married and having a litter or two of kids…” he laughed at and kissed your temple, before urging you to continue.

“you’ve been there for me for a while now. you uplifted me and showed me what true love is. and it pains me to know that there’s a possibility that tomorrow could take this away from me.” more tears poured out of your eyes and he cupped your face, kissing away your tears.

logan honestly felt the same. he fell in love with you the moment you joined the x-men. even when you got with scott, he still loved you. he just knew it was fate that the two of you were meant to be. he moved his lips down to your soft plump ones, making you melt on the spot.

the kiss the two of you shared held such passion, that you wished you could stay like this forever.

“i love you too, princess. but, you will tell me this tomorrow; when we win.” he kissed from your lips down to your neck before stopping at the middle of your chest—kissing one of your mounds and holding the other; earning a moan from you.

“in the meantime, how about we get started on that litter?” you giggled and nodded your head, before your back was against the wall with his cock in between your legs—warming up from your heat, while he pinched one of your perky nipples and sucked on the other.

slick started to pool and drip onto his cock as he continued to tease your sensitive breasts, fueling your arousal. “please, baby….don’t tease me—wan’ you inside of me~”

he pulled away from your nipple with a ‘pop’ echoing after, still teasing the other one with his rough hands, a smirk painted on his rugged face. “you sure you’re ready for that, doll?” he asked and you nodded profusely. lifting up your leg, he rubbed himself on your slick coated slit, using your essence as lubricant and then pushed himself into your tightness.

he threw his head back from how you felt, and your walls clung to him; clenching and unclenching around him. the pressure he was putting on your clit, had you cumming prematurely. he smirked and pulled himself out, making you whimper; already missing how he filled you up—even though it was just the tip.

he repeated that process, pushing his cock in and pulling you out, earning more lewd noises from you and your pretty pussy. “logannn, please fuck me already!” he grunted in response and slammed himself inside—filling you to the brim with his cock. you squealed from the pleasurably painful sensation that coursed through you, kissing him to distract you from the pain.

the grip on your leg tightened as he started to pound your sweet little pussy, walls stretching past its normals limits. the more he fucked you, the more your cunt became molded to the shape of his cock. it was evident that you were made for him.

by now, the water had gotten cold and he continued to rut inside of you—cunt coating his cock with your creamy white fluids. he was drowning in your sweet fluids and he didn't need a floatie—he had reached nirvana.

in one swift motion, the shower was off and you were in his arms—legs wrapped around his waist while he was still inside; carrying you out of the shower & over to the bathroom sink. he pulled out momentarily as he placed you on your feet and turned you around, your fat ass facing him; while he plunged right back inside of your middle.

pushing your arch down, placing his hands on your hips—he reached deeper than before, causing you to scream. “dick too big for you baby?” you nodded and he chuckled, grinding himself against you until he started to pound you silly.

you tried to open your mouth to speak, to warn him that you were going to cum, but your mind was too fucked out to process anything; so you let out a sweet moan. “go ahead and cum for me princess. could feel her twitching around me.”

it was amazing how he knew your body so well already and it didn’t take long for you to heed his words, cumming hard on his dick while he continued to make your cunt his. the tightness of your walls squeezing him, broke him and he couldn’t help but to cum buckets inside of you—filling your tummy up with his kids.

the two of you panted, bodies shaking as your orgasms came over you—your head being pulled back so he could press a kiss to your lips.

“i love you, princess.”

———

blood covered the blue and yellow suits the team wore as the dark phoenix made paint out of their blood. the fight wasn’t going so good. some of you were gravely injured, possibly on the brink of death, while some of you tried to catch your breaths; still able to fight.

you looked over at a bleeding logan, worried about the wounds he had received, catching his eyes. “don’t worry, it’ll heal.”

he charged towards the being, claws fully unsheathed, with you and few others following suit; only to be tossed away like peons. you laid there in pain, ready to accept defeat, until you heard the crunching of the dirt nearby. turning your head you were shocked to see scott, staring down the possessed body of his old lover.

scott turned to look at you and logan, and smiled before inching closer toward them. your eyes shot open, you knew exactly what he was going to do. “scott! wait,—“ but it was already too late.

with the help of colossus, the leader of the x-men was tossed over to jean—grabbing onto her before a red flash of light blinded you all. once it cleared, the two were gone. the only thing that stood where they once were, was scott’s yellow & red custom visor.

you sat there in disbelief. you never expected this to happen. yeah, you his guts, but you never expected him to sacrifice himself. better yet, die.

“c’mon doll, let’s go home~” logan’s raspy voice pulled you out of your thoughts, holding out his hand which you gladly accepted. you turned around, looking at where he was one last time, before turning around heading back to the jet.

——

5 months later.

“and here lies the visor that was once used by our leader and hero of the x-men, cyclops. he will be missed.” logan spoke to the new students joining the academy—giving them a tour, stopping at scott’s memorial.

“logan~” your voice called out to him, making him turn his attention over to you—his beautiful pregnant wife. “alright kids, gonna turn this over to our new teacher; ms. frost,” the blonde stepped up with a smile and took over while your husband jogged over to you—kissing your growing belly before moving up to your lips.

“we’re gonna be late! this is the appointment where we get to see the baby’s gender!”

it might’ve started off rough, but you were finally happy and in love.

[tinyarsonist]

Volume: Up

"I bet I can make you scream in Korean."

Summary: In which heart throb K-Pop Idol, Bangchan, just shows you how 'Christopher' he can really be.

MDNI 18+ Only

TW: idol!Chan, IdolTrainee!Y/N(fem!), drinking, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it up), smut in general, dirty talk, swearing, masturbation, dumification, nipple play (fem!), cum on stomach, PleasureDom!Chan, switch!reader (fem!), pull out, cum on stomach, let me know if I missed anything!

Italics are in Korean. Bold is in Spanish. Rest in English.

Volume Series: Part One | Part Two | ?

You were still in awe.

You started your career as an idol fairly late in the game, making you older than most. But, when you entered the world of K-pop, you knew this was what you were meant to do. You were already creating music since you were young, and how hard could it be?

Very.

There were days as a trainee when you felt like giving up. You left your friends and family back home to pursue your dream, and after years, you still felt like you were right back at the same spot you started. Never moving. Stagnant.

That's when you discovered Stray Kids. Watching their debut to where they are now. It motivated you.

Then, one day, your company announces that they want you to lead a team. They presented you with suitable candidates for your girl group, but something in you felt like something wasn't right. "Sorry," you apologize to your board. "But, if I may be so bold as to recruit my own members?"

You wanted a family. Craved friendship beyond just another gig. And, well, let's say it worked out very well for you.

This brings you to the present day--standing in DIV studio, surrounded by its members, to do an interview. Your group was just starting out and already doing well. You've posted a couple of dance practices and some ballad covers you performed as a group, tracking some major views across all social media. DIV wanted to be the first to be a part of the soon-to-be international hype.

"You ready?" Eric smiled at you as the crew set up your microphone. You nodded happily. The rest of your group couldn't make it due to schedule. It felt weird not having the rest of your girls around you, but knew this wasn't an opportunity you just passed up.

Time passes, and so far, the interview is going great. It was amazing being around like-minded people. And, it was also nice being able to curse and not have to worry about your 'imagine' among them. They were free to be who they wanted. They wanted to break the mold; conformity was not in their dictionary. It took a while to let your company agree to the interview in the first place, but this was the direction you wanted to take the group. To be yourself and just produce music.

"Okay, so next up is the heart rate challenge." Eric smiled. You were divided into teams; you and Eric vs. Peniel and BM. The winner would be dubbed by the lowest combined heart rate.

"You're going down!" BM teased as Peniel hyped him up in the back. You grin brightly.

"Considering you boys are literally jumping around before the monitor is even placed, I think it's safe to say we'll win."

"Oh okay, that's how it's gonna be??" Peniel laughed. "Then let's make a bet; the loser buys everyone barbeque!"

Eric and you agreed in a heartbeat. You were already craving galbi and rice. Peniel essentially just bought the dinner you were going to buy tonight anyway.

As the heart monitors are placed, you try your best to stay calm. You were an anxious person in general, but when push comes to shove, you always had a way of relaxing yourself.

Peniel and BM went first. Eric and you teased them relentlessly during their time duration of 5 minutes. Peniel started blushing during his time up when you started throwing winks and kisses his way. Their combined score was 250.

"That's not far!" Peniel groaned as the video crew asked for a short break to recalibrate their equipment. "She's too cute, like how does someone not get flustered?"

"It's all fun and games in love and war," you winked at him. Everyone laughed except Peniel, who just took out his phone and pouted. His fingers typed furiously on his keyboard. Once it was time to get the cameras rolling again, Peniel had a knowing smirk on his face. You couldn't help but wonder what he was concocting. You just knew he was plotting his revenge against you.

Eric went first. Despite the constant harassment Peniel and BM gave him, you couldn't help but laugh at their jabs. "You're supposed to be on my team!" Eric roared at you at his last 10 seconds on the clock. Despite everything, his heart rate totaled to 120. All you had to do was ignore the comments for a minute. You got this. You sat down in the middle of the floor and crossed your legs, getting in an almost meditative position. The rest followed. Then the buzzer started.

"So," Peniel started as soon as the timer started going. "You learned Korean by yourself, right?"

You shot him a distrusting glance. "Yes..."

Peniel and BM nodded their heads slowly. "Interesting"/"Yes, yes, very interesting." Eric shot you a glance. He could feel it, too. Based on how the two acted Eric's turn was completely different, they were calm. Too calm. They were up to something.

"One might say," Peniel feigned thoughtfulness by stroking his chin. "You had an interest in learning Korean before you even had thought of becoming a trainee."

Crap. He saw the clip.

Before your group days, you would do little lives here and there. Just want to document your early days and interact with anyone who wants to chat. During that time, you mentioned the real reason you learned Korean was to easily watch interviews without the need for subtitles. Then you casually mentioned how much of a fan you were for a certain boy group. Your fans, which was very little back then, took those clips and circulated them online. Which was fine. It gained some traction that you were a STAY and helped grow your platform. It was a bit embarrassing, essentially admitting that you only learned the language to watch their episodes and lives to get full context. But, hey, it also helped you get to where you are today.

Getting bullied by two idols so they don't have to pay for your dinner.

"Yes, Peniel. I learned Korean so I can watch Stray Kids' interviews live." You roll your eyes but keep track of where your monitor is. 95bpm. Not bad. So long as you stayed below 130, that galbi was yours.

Peniel and BM continued to stroke their chins. "Interesting"/"Yes, yes, very... Stray Kids fan. Very cool"

Peniel held up a finger before leaving the room. You looked around at the crew, confused. Eric laughed and peered after him; "Where is he going?"

His question was answered as Peniel stepped back into the room with a shorter figure behind him. You moved around to peer behind Peniel, and when you locked eyes with the guest, your heart rate shot up. 110bpm.

Eric and BM rose to give a small bow when Chan said his hellos. You stayed still in your place. Embarrassment immediately washed over you. But you took a deep breath in and out, 3 minutes until you can freak out. 3 minutes, and you can process every single emotion you are feeling.

Chan gave you a little wave, his dimples showing as he smiled. Ugh, he might as well shoot you in the heart right now.

"You're not gonna stand up?" Peniel teased. You immediately shook your head. As much as you wanted to say hi, dinner was calling your name. Seeing Chan in the flesh was amazing. But Galbi beat everything at this moment. BM smiled brightly and motioned for Chan to take a seat next to you. How sweet.

2 minutes. 115bpm.

You bowed your head slightly to say hello, still a bit too stunned to speak. Chan gave a small head bow back. "Sorry about this," he chuckled. You told him it was okay, but still unable to make eye contact. Despite that, you knew he looked incredible. He always did.

Focus! You tried to snap yourself out of it and took deep breaths. In and out. In and out.

"So... you learned Korean to watch us live? That's sweet," Chan felt awkward all of a sudden. When Peniel texted him, this wasn't what he expected to be doing during the interview. "How many languages do you know?"

You close your eyes and focus back on the game. Here you were making casual conversation, while 3 other idols were jabbing at you, trying to get your heart rate back up. "Four; English, Korean, Japanese, and Spanish."

"Holy crap, how is it going down?!" Eric looked at the monitor and backed up at you. You kept your eyes closed, trying to maintain a steady rhythm. Everyone but Chan was losing their shit.

You could hear BM jump to his feet. The impending doom of a very large bill drove his heart rate up. "Chan, do something!" He exclaimed in Korean. Chan giggled next to you; "What? What do I do?"

"Hit on her!" Peniel got up as well. All attention is now on Chan. Eric stood up and pointed at the two competitors; "Hey! Hey! You leave her alone!"

You couldn't help but chuckle; "I was subscribed to his bubble. I was in the trenches with the rest of STAY. There's nothing he can say that I haven't heard."

Chan clicked his teeth with his tongue. His eyes narrowed. A challenge. He looked at you, with your eyes still closed, before casting his gaze over at Eric. "Anyway, we can mute our mics for a sec?"

Your eyes shot open.

1 minute. 120bpm.

BM ran over to mute your mic. As soon as he backed up, Chan leaned in close to your ear. His breath tickled your cheek, and you had to close your eyes again. 125 bpm. 30 seconds.

"I bet I can make you scream in Korean."

Chan wasn't expecting you to turn your head so quickly towards him. The way your face flushed. Your eyes wide. Everything about you was making his heart race. You locked eyes with him and felt like you couldn't breathe. This was it. That free galbi was gone.

The buzzer went off.

Everyone turned to the monitor.

129bpm.

You shot up from your seat and hugged Eric. Peniel and BM groaned at their loss. Chan laughed as he watched the two of you jumping around, singing about free barbeque.

He took a moment to sneak a look at you, his gaze traveling up and down. The way your hair bounced with you and how your outfit was snuggling your curves just right. He stood up as Eric said their sign-off. Once the cameras were shut off, the teasing started between the four. Peniel placed his arm around the younger idol and pulled him in a side hug. "It's okay," he reassured Chan. "It's not entirely your fault. A good majority of it. But, not fully."

Chan laughed and rolled his eyes. Everyone came up to thank him for coming over. That's when he locked eyes with you again, giving him a bright smile.

You gave the bow you weren't able to give before, formally introducing yourself. You all talked for a bit until you felt your hunger start to spike up; "Okay, so when are we getting dinner?"

The group settled for a time later tonight so everyone could get ready. BM invites Chan to tag along.

"No no," Chan shook his head, not wanting to impose. Peniel tickled his stomach as the rest of the group tried to get him to agree. You couldn't help but chime in. Part of you being selfish and wanting to spend more time with him and also wanting to get a jab in at Peniel and BM; "Come on, it'll be fun. And free!"

Chan looked at you. It was subtle, but his cheeks turned a bit red. "Y-yea, okay."

Chan made his way back to his dorm. The rest of the members who share the space are away on their own schedules. It was rare for Chan to spend the night alone.

He groaned as he plopped on the couch. He was still a bit jet lagged from flying from NYC back home. Laying his head on the back of the couch, he tried to take a nap before having to get ready to head out for dinner with you and the rest of the group.

You.

His mind was restless, and for some reason, they kept fluttering back to you. No matter how much he tried to push them out, he couldn't stop thinking about your big doe eyes. The way your breath hitched as he leaned in. The perfume you were wearing.

Was it Channel? Gucci? Whatever it was, it was flowery like a spring day. He could still smell it on his clothes oh so slightly.

Biting his lower lip, he got up from his seat and headed to the shower. The warm water was welcoming as he tried to clear his head. Unfortunately, it seemed there was only one thing to rid him of these thoughts.

The amount of guilt he felt once he stroked his cock to the thought of you was soon discarded as his mind wandered even more.

What were you like? Did you relinquish control or demand it? Were your lips as soft as he can imagine? Your mouth--oh God. How would it feel to have it wrapped around him? Were you a moaner? A screamer? Could he scramble your brain so much that you scream for him in Korean? Would you come in multiple languages?

He sped up his pace even faster. Water cascaded down his back as he faced the tile bathroom wall. One hand on the structure to ground him as he lost himself at the thought of you. He leaned his head back as he felt himself building and building. The warm water was a comforting feeling on his scalp.

The way he would take you as soon as you entered the dorm. No words, just a clash of flesh as he stripped you of your clothes and bent you over the couch. He wouldn't waste any time and would just thrust into your--oh God. How would you feel around his dick? How tight--

He muffled a moan as he came on his hand. The shower washed away any evidence of his inappropriate thoughts of you. He panted heavily and stood under the water for a couple of moments, pleasure rippling through him soon to be replaced with an abundant amount of guilt for getting off to someone he barely knew.

Maybe that was the thrill of it. Maybe the thought of having someone who didn't know his ups and downs is what did it for him.

Chan didn't have time to dwell on the thought as the time to meet up was fast approaching. And he hated to admit, but the thought of seeing you made his now softening cock twitch.

By the time Chan arrived at the restaurant, platters and drinks were spread across the shared table. BM and Peniel bought out a room so they could enjoy their meal without prying eyes. Chan could hear them hollering in the room before he even opened the door. His ears rang as they all loudly greeted him.

"Look who finally made it!" Peniel laughed as Chan took a seat across from them. Eric and BM were putting meat on the grill as they said their greetings. Chan couldn't help but scan the room, taking note that you weren't there. He tried to play it cool as he asked if you were running late.

"She texted us saying there was something she needed to finish up at home," BM answered him. Eric couldn't help but wiggle his eyebrows at Chan.

"Why? Scared she might not come?"

"No, no." Chan chuckled awkwardly while looking off to the side. "Was just wondering, is all."

The boys all made cooing noises. A flush of embarrassment washed over Chan at their teasing. Peniel smirked; "Wouldn't blame you, she's gorgeous!"

Chan poured himself a shot of soju, trying his best to drown out their teasing and take the stress away. The three men quit their teasing and talked about mundane things; schedules, new music coming out, and how big the bags under Chan's eyes were.

"I just flew back from New York!"

"Doesn't matter! Ever heard of eye cream!"

They were laughing at one another by the time you entered the room. Everyone stood up to greet you with a bow, and you bowed back. Gesturing for them to take their seats again. "Sounds like a party in here," you smiled as you took a seat next to Chan. He took note of how you wore your hair up in a messy bun, showing off your silver necklace. That flowery smell radiated off of you, and he had to lean a bit to the side so it didn't flood his senses in all the right ways.

"Is that soju or vodka?" You spot a filled shot glass from across the table. "Actually, it doesn't matter. Hand me it."

Chan watched you down the shot with a smile and motioned for Eric to pour you another one. "Hard day?"

The second shot went down a bit smoother and you gave him a grin. "You can say that."

He didn't need to know that the line he whispered in your ear had stressed you out to your core. It was possibly the hottest thing any man has ever said to you. It was all you could think about by the time you reached your dorm. His voice echoed in the back of your mind causing your body to feel hot.

He didn't need to know the real reason why you were late to dinner.

That you were squirming on your bed, rubbing yourself furiously between your legs. Trying to get all the tension out of your body before having to see him again.

And now you were sitting next to him. The man responsible for one of the best solo sessions in your life.

"I mean, I did have to spend half the day with these three." You gestured to the rest of the group who just booed at you. Eric rolled up a napkin and threw it your way, causing you to laugh.

As you and the group ate and drank, the room was beginning to get louder and louder. It wasn't long until everyone became tipsy.

You just finished cooking up your Galbi and offered it to the rest of the group who everyone, except Chan, declined. You used the tongs to bring it over to his plate before attempting to cut it. "Damn things," you huffed under your breath. The scissors were dull and worn out. Trying to cut through the meat was as effective as slicing a rib-eye with a spoon.

"Here," Chan grabbed the tongs and scissors from your hand. Despite the very brief time that his fingers brushed yours, you couldn't help but blush a bit as he gave you your half. You didn't have time to feel embarrassed as you caught Eric eyeing the two of you. He had his fingers interlaced and resting his head on them.

"You two look cute together~"

"Shut up," you mumble and grab some kimchi to add to your plate.

Chan sat quietly next to you. He plopped some food in his mouth, the best excuse he had to not comment. BM chuckled before pouring another round of drinks. "What did you say to her anyway? Peniel was screaming so loud I couldn't even hear it."

The two of you were sitting so close to one another, that you could feel Chan stiffen next to you. No doubt, wanting to avoid another round of ridicule from his colleagues.

"Awe, jealous he wasn't whispering in your ear instead?"

That snarky reply was all it took for the other two boys to holler and tease the living crap out of him. As the night progressed, soon talk of continuing the party commenced. Chan mentioned he had a free dorm tonight.

"You in?"  Eric asked you. You looked up from your plate of Galbi and rice. You were so distracted by your plate that you didn't realize they were all waiting for your answer. You hesitated. You obviously had this attraction to Chan since the interview. Hell since even before you became a trainee. The frustration of him being so near, mixed with alcohol, might just be the equation for something disastrous.

Chan bit his lower lip while sneaking a glance at you. He knew it was stupid to invite everyone over. To invite you over. He was already feeling the effects of drinking so much, trying to keep pace with everyone. What if he slipped up? Did something that made you hate him?

But then a wonderful thought popped into his mind: What if something amazing happened?

"It'll be fun," Chan gave you his shy grin. Your heart raced as you two locked eyes. How could you say no to that face?

"You got this," you whispered to yourself as you stood in front of Chan's door. It wasn't every day you're invited to a celebrity's apartment. Especially one that you've imagined in bed with when you're stressed out after work. Everyone left in their own taxi after dinner, planning to meet up at Chan's. You stayed a bit behind to make some phone calls to your family overseas, promising that you would be there soon. "Totally normal get-together. Nothing to worry about."

After a couple of seconds, you gather enough courage to knock on the door. A moment or two the door swings open and Chan stands there. God, he looked great with his messy hair, black tee, and joggers. Giving him that ready-for-bed look--

"Wait, were you asleep?"

Chan's face turned red. He was in bed. But he definitely wasn't sleeping.

"They didn't text you? They got a call on the way over, their schedule moved up earlier in the morning so they headed back home."

Oh.

You pull out your phone and groan. "Batteries dead." You just had to make those calls? You knew your mom could talk your ear off.

"Sorry," you put the phone back in your pocket. Taking a step back, you start to head out. "Have a good night."

"Wait!" He couldn't just let you leave. It could be from all the alcohol, but watching you saunter away felt wrong. He wanted you near him. To stay. "It's late... You can charge your phone and call a cab here if you want."

You didn't fight it. You know you should've. Chan was right, it was late. The responsible thing to do would be to go home. But that didn't stop you from sitting on his couch waiting for your phone to charge enough to call your ride. The two of you scrolled through YouTube on his TV, chatting about anything that came to mind as you both sipped on some mixed drinks Chan concocted when you first entered the apartment.

It was weird. Without the others, conversation flowed almost naturally between you two.

"You mean to tell me, you've never watched any of your own fan cams?!" You exclaimed. Chan shook his head and laughed shyly.

"No, it felt weird watching close-ups of myself if that makes sense?"

"You really should, they always look phenomenal!"

You grabbed the remote to scroll through the recommended videos to watch. Chan took the opportunity took look you over for the umpteenth time tonight. Here he was just in joggers and an oversized shirt while you sported a cute long-sleeved crop top and tight jeans. He had to grab the pillow next to him to cover up the bulge he was sporting.

You settled on a music video by RenMakesMusic.  The strum of the guitar had Chan bobbing his head along to the beat. The lyrics were a bit dark but meaningful. "This is good," Chan mused. "Turn it up a bit."

You gladly obliged with a smile, pressing the remote's volume button so his subwoofers would have to do some heavy lifting. Music filled the apartment as the two of you watched the video. You didn't realize it initially, but your shoulder pressed against his. You slowly shifted to your right, to create distance not trying to give him the wrong impression, but were surprised when he leaned back into you. It was comforting.

It was right.

"Everything okay?"

Chan's question broke through your mind wandering. You felt your cheeks heat up a bit. "Y-yea, um. Where's the bathroom?"

"Down the hall, to the right."

Chan watched as you made your way to the guest bathroom. He couldn't help but keep his eyes on your backside. Once you disappeared, he leaned further back into the couch and groaned.

What was he doing? Letting you in this late, checking you out when you weren't looking, trying to get any physical contact no matter how little it was. It was stress, it had to be. His schedule has been so hectic lately his body was trying to find relief since his mind was almost running amock. Chan was so lost in thought that he let YouTube play on in the background. Not paying much attention to what was playing.

When you exited the bathroom, you were greeted with bongos and macarenas bouncing through the dorm. Peaking around the corner you spotted Chan leaning against the couch. He had his head back against the rest, his eyes closed. But despite his worn-down posture, he was still tapping his foot to the beat. "Aw, come on--you call that dancing?"

Your voice brought back his focus. His side smile gave you butterflies and you couldn't help but wear your own when he quipped; "Like you know how to dance to this?"

"Alright, Christopher. Get up." You grabbed the remote next to him and turned up the stereo even more. Hopefully, anyone living above or below the apartment wouldn't be able to hear how the bass shook the walls.

His grin widened at the name change. Almost nobody called him that anymore. There was a fine line between 'Chan' and 'Christopher', one that you seemed to be willing to cross.

What else were you willing to do?

Your hand was extended to him as you stood above him from his seat. The gleam in your eye was bright, almost playful. There was this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. Bubbly and light. How the light casts around your silhouette made him realize why he felt the way he did when his eyes locked on you.

You were a goddess.

"You just gonna sit there? Come on, get up."

He didn't know what you said, but by the way, you grabbed onto his hand and pulled him from his seat, he knew he was in no position to argue.

You were a tough dance instructor. You corrected almost every misstep in Spanish. He couldn't comprehend your scolding, but he'll be damned to admit that at this point, he was doing it on purpose. There was something incredibly hot about being reprimanded in an unknown language.

"Dear all that is mighty," you sighed. "You're too stiff, loosen up a bit. Here, why don't you take the lead instead."

That caused his brain to malfunction a bit. He stuttered like a middle school kid being asked to dance for the first time. Without waiting for a reply, you grab his hands in yours and guide them on your body.  His hold on your waist was firm, but not too tough. He didn't want to scare you away. Not when he was so close to you he could smell your shampoo. Especially, not when you wrapped your arms around his neck and those eyes of yours were peering into his soul as you two stepped to the fast beat.

"Feel how my hips are moving?"

Oh, you bet he does.

Pushing those thoughts away, Chan tried to mimic your movement. "That's better!" You praised it, and it took everything in him not to press his body flush against yours right at that moment. He hated to admit it, but as the next song played, something with a slower tempo, every step you took with him around the living room, he somehow magically ended up closer to you.

This is the part where both of you could blame the alcohol.

You both were too inebriated to notice the fact that your phone was fully charged, that your fingers started to play with the bottom of his hair, or the fact that your faces were so close together. Chan's forehead rested on yours as the playlist finally died down to a softer ballad. YouTube ironically telling you two to slow down. But neither showing signs of listening.

"We...are going down a path you might regret." Chan closed his eyes to help steady his breathing. How were you able to do this earlier today? He felt like his heart was going to combust on the spot.

"That I might regret?" You whispered. Being this close to him felt surreal. You were sure you were about to wake up in your bed feeling very frustrated. "You won't?"

The feel of the pressure of your body was draining all his excitement from his chest to his dick. Another form of pressure was beginning to press against his underwear. A flood of penance sprung as quickly as his blood flowed to his quickening erection. "We just barely met. We don't know each other."

You pull away slightly so you can look up at him.

"Then, get to know me."

Chan knew this wasn't what you meant. But, it was too late to turn back now.

You were half-naked, a trail of clothes leading to his room.

For every question he asked, an article of your outfit was essentially ripped off you. Every question you answered, you returned the favor.

"Favorite food?" Whoops, there goes that necklace.

"Beef jerky with sticky rice." Goodbye, Chan's shirt!

He kissed you deeply and backed you up towards his bed. A brief pause as you fell into the soft cushions and he stared down at you. Your lips were puffy, chest rising and falling as you were trying to catch your breath. As much as he reveled in the thought of you being a goddess, there was something about bringing down a higher power that made him absolutely feral. Breaking you down bit by bit with every question. 

He climbed on the bed to hover over you, that stupid side smile making another appearance for the night. "That's not exactly a 'food', more of a meal."

"Sorry if I'm--ah. A bit distracted." You close your eyes as he attaches his lips right below your ear. Sucking on your soft skin, not hard enough to leave bruising, but a temporary mark just for his eyes. 

Biting your lower lip, you happily extended your neck a bit to give him more access. Mind all fuzzy and unable to think as he littered your neck with small kisses. Chan gripped your thigh and pulled it up a bit, lifting your hips just enough to hold you close to his pelvis,  kneading your thighs through your tights.

"Need you to focus." He nipped softly at your skin. "How else am I going to learn everything about you?

"Favorite position?" His fingers went under the hem of your tights and helped you shed the last outer part of your outfit. Once it was thrown somewhere across his room, you wrapped the leg he was holding up around his back and used what momentum you could gather to push his back on the bed. His hands instinctively grabbed onto your hips as you straddled him.

Your lips were soft and gentle as you leaned in for a kiss, the complete opposite of the intensity shared just moments before. "Don't care, so long as I'm full."

Chan wasted no time by stripping himself of his joggers and boxers on your behalf. Stifling a moan as best as he could once he felt your clothed core perfectly placed on his growing erection.  Guiding your hips to grind against him, he grinned as you threw your head back and sighed in content. Chan rocked his hips perfectly to the rhythm he set against you, providing the much-needed friction you craved.

You were starting to think he was tanking at dancing salsa on purpose.

"Anything off limits?" You couldn't even register that his hands snuck up to undo your bra clasp. He took a second to appreciate the view. Chan couldn’t stop himself from using his forearms to prop himself up to latch onto one of your nipples. Licking and sucking at anything he could grab. The mewls coming from your mouth sounded like a song he never wanted to end. Your hand caressed the back of his head, pressing him closer. 

“Just--mmm. Just don’t stop even if I say so.”

Leaving your breast with a wet ‘plop’, he stared up at you. You could see the usual gleam in his eyes disappear. They became dark, almost predatory. Chan lifted you off so he could be above you again. He traced your skin from the collarbone down to the hem of your underwear. You arched your back at his touch; “Luckily for you--I like begging.”

Your breath hitched. Surely, he could see the wet stain on your underwear by now.

“Any safe words then?”

Last question.

Chan finger slipped underneath the cloth and played with your folds. The way you squirmed underneath him made him want to ruin you more. The chuckle he let out when you tried to squeeze your thighs together made you feel warm all the way down to your core. Chan was quick to use his body to keep you nice and spread. All for him.

“L-lemon…”

“Sorry, couldn’t hear you.” Chan slipped the tip of his middle finger in you. “Could you speak up a bit?”

“Pendej--mmmphhh” You couldn’t finish your quip. Chan pushed in further until he was knuckle-deep. His lips hovered over yours as he slowly worked in and out of you. You kept arching and writhing as he continued his ministrations, mouth wide open as you let out silent moans.

“Ah, ah--I wanna hear you.” Once he added in a second finger, you couldn't contain yourself. Moans were spilling out of you like a pornstar. Even when he kissed you, there was nothing to stop the volume you were outputting. “Good job, baby.”

“Oh?” He chuckled as he felt your walls clamp down on him. “Did you like that?”

You couldn't speak as he kept pressing into you, wiggling his fingers against your walls. “C-chan…please…”

“Sorry, what was that?” He teased as he kissed around your collarbone.

“Chan…”

The bastard kept pretending not to hear you. As if he couldn't feel you practically leaking around his fingers and clenching around him like there was no tomorrow. 

You finally had enough.

Grabbing ahold of his face with one hand, you forced him to look at you. His cheeks smashed between your fingers. “Christopher, I swear to God--if you don't fuck me right now I'm taking over.”

Ah, so you did like to be in charge.

With a grin, he gladly ripped off your panties. He pulled away just a bit, taking in your appearance. Wanting to embed it into his brain for any future sessions he might have with himself later on.

He knew he should've grabbed a condom, but the alcohol was still flowing through him and he couldn’t stop himself as he slowly pushed into you. You tried finding words; how big he felt, how full he made you, but all that could come out were whimpers as he groaned and leaned in for another kiss to ease any pain you felt.

The two of you grind against one another. Chan never fully pulled out, keeping himself nice and snug in your warmth. Stretching you out, oh so sweetly.

Chan wasted no time in picking up his thrust as you tapped his shoulder, indicating that he was okay to move. You squeaked as he hooked your knees on his shoulders and leaned down to essentially bend you in half. He was hitting a spot you never felt before; not with previous boyfriends and definitely not with your own toys at home.

“So fucking tight…” Chan hissed as his pace sped up to the point he was jackhammering into you. His lips found their way back to your neck and kept mumbling about how you felt around him. So tight, so warm, just right. His teeth nipped your ear lobe, desperate to grab onto something but knowing he couldn’t mark you up too much. “Is this good, baby? Need it harder, faster?”

When you didn’t respond to him, he slowed down a bit and leaned back to stare down at you. His cock twitched when he realized what was happening.

You laid on the bed; eyes glazed over, mouth wide open, cheeks completely flushed. You knew he was asking you a question in Korean, but the words weren’t forming in your head like they usually do. “Aw,” Chan laughed. “Does it feel that good that you forgot Korean?”

Chan let up on the pressure so his hand can snake its way to your lips. You instantly latch on to his fingers and suck. Your tongue brushes around his tips, tasting the leftover residue of yourself from earlier. Your knees unhook from his shoulder and fall on either side of his waist. A whimper leaves you as he removes his fingers from your mouth and travels down to rub your clit. Still keeping his thrust with his brutal pace.

“Ahhh…wait…” You squirmed and your hand went to grab his wrist. Chan noticed how you didn’t pull his hand away despite your pleas. “Chan, p-please--too much.”

He kept using your body. Chan could feel you clamping down around his length. “Sorry,” he breathed out as he felt the pressure in his balls rising. “You’re just, hmmmph, too perfect.”

That’s what did it for you. The fact that he listened to what you mentioned earlier, and his talk. The crash of pleasure that overcame you was intense. Chan shuddered as he felt your wave around him. “Fuck, fuck fuck,” you came with a cry. Your arms wrapped around his neck, trying to ground yourself in any way that you could. You were loud. Nothing could stop the curses that flowed out of you as you held him close against you. Chan wasn’t far behind; “Oh, I-I’m gonna--”

He pulled out and stroked his cock rapidly around his head, painting your stomach with his warm cum. Of all the art museums he visited around the world--this was by far his favorite piece of work.

The room was filled with both of your heavy pants as he laid in your arms. Once he was able to catch his breath, Chan pulled away from your embrace placing the gentlest kiss on your lips. Humming as you kissed him back. He tried to get up, but you were quick to stop him.

“Don’t go…” You pouted. Part of you knew this would be a one-time thing, but another part never wanted this to end. Chan smiled down at you and gave your cheek a quick peck.

“I’m just grabbing a towel to clean you off.”

As he walked off to the bathroom you stared down at the mess on your abdomen. The remnants of the best sex of your life were starting to cake on your skin. It took everything in you to not scoop some up and taste him in your mouth. When Chan returned with a wet cloth, he cleaned you up before plopping onto the bed beside you.

Once you caught your breath, reality set in.

Here you were, all fucked out with a colleague in the same industry. Everything told you to leave. It wasn’t like the two of you were in a relationship. It was a rash decision based on a lot of alcohol and dancing. You started to get up, but Chan was quick to wrap his hand in yours.

“You…you don’t have to go…” Chan shifted to lay on his side and stared down to not meet your eyes. Acting all shy as if he didn’t fuck the lights out of you just moments before. Your heart melted at the sight.

Slinking back into bed, his arms wrapped around you and pulled you into his chest. His cheek pressed against the top of your forehead. You could feel his heartbeat against you and closed your eyes.

“You know,” you sighed. “This was something I definitely didn’t regret.”

“Me ‘neither.”

As the morning rolled around you woke up to Chan still wrapped around you. His soft snores made you smile. There was something surreal about seeing him so at peace that made your heart flutter. Placing a small kiss on his cheek, Chan shifted slightly and groaned as he stretched a bit.

“Mornin’,” He grumbled but held a smile as soon as his eyes landed on you. Chan wasted no time in pulling you into a kiss. His hands sneaking towards your ass to knead your flesh. His excitement is present against your thigh.

"Somebody's eager," You giggle as he pressed closer to you. Chan smirked as he gently rubbed his morning wood against you.

"You can say that."

"Unfortunately--"

Chan grumbled and hid his face in the crook of your neck. "No, don't say that."

"I was just going to say, that I need some water first." It was true. After all the drinks last night, your head was pounding like never before.

"Okay," Chan smiled and got up from bed to put a pair of boxers on. "Stay put, I'll grab you something to eat too."

Minutes passed as you waited in bed. Surprise overtook you as you heard a pan sizzling and the welcoming smell of home-cooking started to flood the dorm. Dawning one of his shirts, you made your way to the kitchen. Chan's back was to you as he manned the stove. You could see how his back rippled with every movement he made.

You couldn't see it, but a smile crept on Chan's face as he felt you wrap your arms around his midriff. "I thought I told you to stay put?"

"I'm not one for taking orders." You laugh as you hook your chin on his shoulder to peer over him. "Besides," Chan stiffened a bit as he felt your lips hover over his ear. "There's something sexy about a man cooking."

"Oh?" He quickly turned off the stove and turned around to face you. Your arms wrap around his neck as he leaned down closer to your face. "And what about your water?"

It was a frenzy of passion as your lips locked with his yet again. Both of you eager to relive last night in the light of sobriety. "Water can wait," you whisper in between kisses.

Chan easily lifted you, placing you on an open counter. Your legs spread to allow him access to be closer to you. The both of you started to mold into one another as the intensity grows. "I should cook for you more often," He grins as he breaks away from the kiss to catch his breath. He lifted his shirt on you slightly so your cunt was exposed.

"Promise?" You teased as he lowered himself down slightly to bring his lips level to your core. Chan enjoyed the way your head leaned back slightly as you felt his hot breath against you.

"Promise."

The both of you were so entranced with what was about to happen, that you didn't hear the door opening. Only the shrilly scream that bounced around the dorm broke you two apart.

You instantly jumped down from the counter as Chan stood upright, finding protection from behind him. Chan tried using his body to shield your half-naked body from the view of a very frightened Felix.

Not that he really needed too.

The younger member held both hands over his eyes. Groceries bags around him, spilling its contents around the floor.

"Felix?" Chan stuttered as he grabbed a kitchen rag to cover up his erection. "W-what are you doing here?"

Chan gestured for you to run back to the room as Felix was still covering his eyes. You had no hesitation, wanting to escape from the embarrassment. AKA your own personal hell.

"I didn't want you eating alone... I was gonna make breakfast."

Author's Note: Here it is! Please let me know what you think. I'm also open to requests, I really want to get back into writing and interacting more on here. If you'd like to be added to my taglist please interact with this post (linked). Bye~

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[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊✞𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ♡

Welcome to this years Kinktober festivities!! I've been working hard on all of these, so I hope you can all enjoy each and every one of them. (I'll also be pinning this post for the duration of October, so if you miss a day, you can check my blog for updates ♡)

There are also some specials in amongst the days for the lovely event my dearest friend @whatudowhennooneseesyou is hosting. So please go check her out and the event ♡♡. I hope you all are ready to sin.

♡ Every day, a new day will be revealed. So sit back, relax, and don't forget to enjoy the ride ♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Buy me a Kofi ♡

Day 1: Tit fucking [Winner Takes All]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : If you win, you get a prize...But if yeosang wins he gets to fuck your tits.

Day 2: Masturbation [My Kind Of Prize]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You couldn’t wait any longer for your boyfriend to finish the match, so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

Day 3: Dry humping/Clothed sex [What Was Rule One Again]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : There were rules Mingi needed to follow, but had the tendency to break them.

Day 4: Biting/Bondage [No Bark But All Bite]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : It was just an innocent game of truth of dare. Nothing bad was going to happen... Right?

Day 5: Gentle sex [Special Treatment]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your loving husband just needed some extra care, and being an amazing wife, you were more than willing to provide.

Day 6: Cock warming [Focused, I'm Focused]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Mingi finds his little mouse trying to do her exams. Too bad he needs her right now.

Day 7: Rough sex [Our Girl]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Yunho and Mingi couldn't stop thinking about you since they first tainted your beautiful body. They were craving more and lucky for them, exams just finished.

Day 8: Voyeurism [Eye's On Him]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : There was no denying that Seonghwa had always loved to watch his leaders' angel being pampered. It was his favourite past time afterall.

Day 9: Bike sex - [His His His]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were his girl, and he can take you wherever and whenever he wants.

Day 10: Thigh riding - [Sit]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You couldn't sit still the moment you started drinking. Jongho ended up dragging you home to punish you by the end of the night.

Day 11: Double penetration - [Lonely Together]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : A creature cursed to wander the earth alone, finds himself falling for a sweet little human that finds peace in the lonely forestry.

DAY 11 SPECIAL: ALIEN AU - [One With The Cosmos]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Travelling in deep space, you and your crew must deliver and pick up cargo to a jump station. Woosan is to accompany you on this mission. San being the muscle and Woo as the navigator and scientists...problem? You got lost.

Day 12:  Pussy slapping/squirting - [Just One]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You had one rule. One little rule, and you decided it was a good idea to break it.

Day 13: Getting caught - [Show Time]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You didn't expect the night to go the way it did, but who are you to complain...

Day 14: Cum play - [So Soaked]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your roommates decided to play a little game, and you were the prize.

Day 15: Oral/Fingering - [Vocal Training]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Yeosang was struggling withi is vocal range. Stressing over it, he decided he needed a snack break. Good thing he knew just the treat to eat.

Day 16: Fae/Orc - [Knight In Bloodied Armour]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Yunho was a myth amongst men. Yet here he stood, ready to protect you and take you away from the cruel life you lead... The only catch is you have to give him something in return... your hand in marriage.

DAY 16 SPECIAL: COLLARING - [Pretty Boy]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Who knew Mingi would be into collars.

Day 17: Drunk sex - [Pour Up]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Shot after shot, the night became lively by the minute. Mingi and Seonghwa were finding it increasingly hard to keep their hands off you as more alcohol ran through their system. Let's just hope they dont get caught being too handys with you by your brother...

Day 18:  Monster Under The Bed - [Guilty Confessions]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : A creature that feeds off lust and fear finds himself falling for the very prey he was supposed to consume. What a cruel twist of fate.

DAY 18 SPECIAL: BITING -[Sign On The Dotted Line]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : He had signed the dotted line for his revenge, but now, he was starting to think there could be more lying beneath his contract.

Day 19: Bath sex - [La Douleur Exquise]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You searched far and wide for the perfect spell to bring Yeosang back to the earthly plain, and now that he's here, you're gonna use your time wisely of course.

Day 20: Priest/Demon - [Sinfully Blinded]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : There was a demon on the loose. Wreaking havoc in the small village that San was a priest in. And little did Father San know is that the creature was a lot closer than he would think.

Day 21: Sex pollen - [A Blooming Mess]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : It's just one quick to your home planet. It's just one dangerous plant for collection. Nothing can go wrong, right... right?

Day 22: A/B/O - [Subtle Scents]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : He was your best friend. The only person would could trust. But yet you had kept a secret from you that would change your relationship in an instant. How would he react once he finds out?

Day 23: Masked man - [Mr. Rough And Rowdy]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You haven't seen your friends in years given you had been overseas studying. Now that you're back, you've noticed how much they've all grown. And what better to celebrate your return than an innocent party.

Day 24: Haunted Maze - [Cravings And Desires]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Wooyoung found a note about you being taken away from him. And now he'll have to play the maze in order to get his prize back.

Day 25: Angel/Worship - [Heavens Gate]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : His job was to be an observer. Do not under any circumstances interact or intervene with human lives. Oh, how he royally fucked that up.

Day 26: Vampire/bloodplay - [Exquisite]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were saved by them. Taken cared for by them. Everything you could ever ask they provided to the best of their abilities... but why?

Day 27: Pirates/Sirens - [Alluring Whispers]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Through life at sea, it's proven that anyone deserves to be loved. Even a pretty pirate and a thieving siren.

Day 28: Werewolf - [Don't You Dare]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : With Rogue's hot on the packs trail, Yunho had to make a tough decision. He needed to be able to know you could handle yourself even when you were away from him. So weekly training sessions became your new normal. But tonights training session went a little of course...

Day 29: Giants - [Dearest Husband, Darling Wife]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Being betrothed and shipped off to far away from your kingdom was the least of your worries when you saw exactly who you were marrying...

Day 30: Alien/Egg laying/breeding - [Try Me]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You husband is in need of your "person assistance"... unlucky for you, San and Wooyoung want a taste of you also.

Day 31: DND Ft. Gang Bang [To Love Is To Be One]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You want, needed to prove that you could achieve just as much greatness like the other guild members. So what better than a hunt that only you and your team can solve.

—

© 𝐉𝐚𝟑𝐡𝐰𝐚. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.