#it would be real the office hours if there was a grand designs us

[heartfullofleeches]

Check-In at Ruthieland

Yandere Park Staff + G.N Reader

Summary: A gift from the park's mascot leads to an unexpected surprise

Warnings: None/Slight horror elements 

Word Count: 3.4k

The mug shaped candy has merged with its wrapping by the time you pick it up. 

Almost two weeks since your last annual visit to Ruthieland – the remaining tickets left tucked in their envelope and stored in a secure location. Your encounter with the park's main mascot repeats are the only thing you can retell vividly from that day, yet it all still feels like a dream. Ruthie hasn’t been seen in person since you were a kid for reasons even you were in the dark about. Why were they bringing him back now?

Beloved Showrunner Ruthie Hare makes a comeback in time for the reopening of hotel. 

That seemed like reason enough. The article pops up in your news feed while browsing online, the hare's buck tooth grin catching you off guard enough for you to drop your phone on your face. Recovering from the sting, you skim over the letter and from what you read Ruthie had been seen in lesser populated areas of the park gifting the same candies he gave you to random families with park staff informing them to keep hold of them. The park's office social media page has almost just released news that every person giving a candy would be invited to the grand reopening of their main hotel.

So that’s why Ruthie gave you the candy. Since you hadn’t seen him since you were a kid, the costume probably just looked stranger than you remembered, or went through a design change. What about that note he gave you? “Somebunny likes you.” It could be that one of the park attendants has developed a thing for you giving your constant visits, but was too shy to approach in person and managed to pull a few strings for you. Anything was possible, but the conclusion allayed your concerns well enough for the idea of a vacation to sound appealing. If things continued to work in your favor then maybe the park's recluse owner would show their face again, and you'd get to see an old friend one more time. 

-

The information for the contest comes within the following week. A week long stay at the refurbished hotel with all expenses paid, and general admission to the park for each day of your stay. A couple signatures and all is set for your departure. The date of the trip was only a few days away by the time everything was in order, your belongings packed the night before. The brochure included in your mail gave details of a shuttle leaving for the hotel from the usual pick up location at 7am; two full hours before opening. You arrive a quarter before, and are surprised to see only one other person waiting. The others possibly drove, or were running closer to the assigned schedule. Someone off to your side whisper shouts to their companion.” 

“I told you they'd be here.- Y/n, hey, over here!”

Drawing your attention to their ambush, you barely have time to react as your assailant rushes you and smothers you in the fuzzy sleeves of their oversized coat. As she lets you go and picks up her suitcase thrown aside in her sprint, you find the woman to be none other than the park attendant responsible for the theft of your ticket stubs, Ell. Two others catch up with her. Atlas, the head of security, and someone you aren't sure you're familiar with. A medical mask obscures the lower half of their face and a baseball cap makes up for the rest. The former two were frequent faces you'd see around the park, and people you considered friends for the most part. 

“Ell? Atlas? What are you doing here?”

Atlas shoots a side eye at Ell. “Someone managed to get their hands on some of the prize candies when it was mentioned in a meeting that staff members weren't eligible to win.”

“They never said anything about coming in on a day off. If they had a real problem with it, we wouldn't even be here. Everyone knows the park's royalty was bound to win, and I believe I speak for all of us when I say getting to spend some time with them on vacation is too good to pass up.”

Atlas chokes on his tongue; lips wired shut as his brain attempts to come up with a cognate reply. He looks around for a way out, eyes landing on your bag and the transport pulling up to dock.

“Heh- would you look at that? The bus is here. Those look heavy, Y/n. I'll carry those up for you. ‘Cuse me”

Atlas squeezes past the two and snatches up your bags as he heads towards the bus. Ell throws an arm over the other member of their party. 

“Anyway- despite popular belief it wasn’t me who took the candies. Found this thief with a couple in their bag and they offered me one to keep quiet. Then Atlas found us out and we had to bribe him for the same prize.”

The stranger tugs on the strings of their hoodie. “I'm not a thief…. Like you said earlier, Y/n was likely to win, and I wanted to see them more than just once a month.” 

Their voice is muffled by the face guard, but you recognize that tone. “Cass?”

They make eye contact with you for the first time that morning - before immediately looking away. “hi, Y/n.” 

Ell stares at them puzzled. “You have an actual name? Why have we been calling you-"

“Let's go, guys! It's ten past seven.”

Atlas slaps on the side of the bus to get his point across. Ell and Cass toss their bags in the undercarriage and follow you on the bus. The exterior is different from the typical pink decal and mascot characters acting out different scenes depending on the vehicle. Instead, the paint job had been switched to solid white with a streak  of red around the middle like a bow and the silhouette of Ruthie's head acting as the ribbon. You stare at it for a while, the trance broken by Cass bumping into you. 

“sorry…”

“It's alright. Go on ahead.”

Cass hesitates, but moves on ahead to avoid conflict. They stand at the back of the bus, waiting to see where you sit. Being the last one on board, Ell shoves you into the closest available seat right behind Atlas and sits beside you. Cass takes the bench from across you.

Atlas is the first to strike up conversation- despite Ell being right over your shoulder. “Hey, Y/n. I've been meaning to ask you, how exactly did you win lifetime tickets to Ruthie's?”

“That’s right- your family moved you away after they heard about the field trip. It was a contest in elementary where we had to write a letter explaining what we'd do if we won tickets to the park. That’s how I met Cass actually. They deliver the tickets. I still don't know how I won.” 

Ell butts in. “Maybe it's because you’re besties with the owner. What’s their name again? Wayne?”

“Wyatt. We didn’t really know each other well because their dad kept them at home, but the few times we hung out was nice. They stopped showing up to class shortly after the trip, but the other kids would joke that they had a crush on me.”

“Imagine that.” Atlas leans against the bus window, watching the buildings go by; fingers snaking up to the skin beneath his eye. “I still loved that place, even after what happened.” 

Before you can say more, the bus hits a speed bump which sends you flying backwards into the seat. Recovering from the whiplash, you glance out the window to see where you are. The bus pulls into the parking lot of where you'll be staying. It’s astonishing how you've never seen or heard much about its rebuilding before now. An excuse for the first part could be the large circus tent blocking the park's back wall.

The hotel itself was like a crossbreed between a lodge cabin and the fairgrounds. The main building sat in the middle of two towers; roof slanted like the pitch of a carnival tent and walls made of stone and wood. The pillars in its foundation were painted red for a little more color and the park's name along with its main mascot sat on a sign near the entrance; a plethora of lights surrounding the entire building shut off due to the time of day.

“Ruthie's Paradise Lodge…” You read aloud; the hare nestled in the title's ‘P' and drifting off to sleep. You gather your carry-on bag and join the others as they exit the bus. Atlas insists on taking the remaining lounge for you and wheels your bags along with his one duffle bag up to the front doors. A rustle in the bushes along the path catches your attention as you follow behind, but no one else seems to notice. You peak into the thickets – two, long pink ears greeting you among beady black eyes.

You scream.

Heads spin at the sound. Atlas retains a look of defense while Ell barks out a laugh and Cass removes their hand from the pocket at the sight they all behold. For the second time that day, fuzz laced arms trap you to the chest of a foreign body; this one covered head to toe in plush and oversized hands doing a better job at keeping you in place. Within enough struggle the mascot lets you go, covering his face with his hands out of embarrassment. The last member of your group and the first person on the bus walks up behind Ruthie and pats the hare's back.

“Sorry for the fright. Ruthie here is just excited to meet friends.” 

Atlas pulls you away from the pair and creates a protective shield using his own body. “And you are?”

The man laughs. “Me? I’m the receptionist at this fine establishment and the staff member assigned to welcoming you all to the hotel. You can just call me Flo. I probably should've introduced myself earlier, but it seemed like you all were having a great time with each other which is what we love to see most at our parks. Shall we head in?” 

Flo enters the hotel without waiting for an answer, leaving all you with no choice but to follow. Ruthie tails behind you step for step; eyes drilling holes in the back of your head. You can see his reflection in the glass doors right before you step inside. This Ruthie is nowhere near as stretched out as the one you met before, but his stare carries that same uncomfortable weight as the first. He gently pushes past you and marches in front of the other's to stand beside Flo.

The lobby isn’t anything remarkable. A fireplace in the waiting area accompanied by couches and chairs; framed snippets of the hare's crew on the walls. Twin staircases lead to a second floor and . It’s so open spaced you can’t help but wonder-

“Are we the only ones here?”

“Course not! We have the rest of staff and if you're referring to the other contestants I’m sure they'll be here on a later shuttle. If that clears up your questions then-"

The echo of Flo's clap makes you flinch. 

“Let's get this show on the road. As I’m sure you're already aware of, you lovely folks are the first to witness the grand reopening of our gorgeous hotel after its tragic closing back in 95’. The rooms have been renovated to fit with modern times and there are various activities around the building to keep you all entertained when you aren't enjoying a fun day at our fair park. The only thing we ask is that you avoid staff only areas, even if a few of you are employed elsewhere on the plot. 

Ruthie holds up a flashcard with a rabbit silhouette marked with a red X; tapping the board while slowly shaking his head. Flo walks behind the counter and produces four separate room keys.

“I will now give you all your assigned room keys and instructions on how to reach them. Your luggage will be brought to your rooms by staff later on.”

Flo hands out the keys in order of how you entered from Cass to Ell to Atlas to You. 81. 82. 83. 111. Ruthie holds out his hand for a key and crosses his arms over his chest when he doesn't receive what he’s after.  It would've been a little funny had Ell not addressed the elephant in the room.

“Why's Y/n's room so far away from ours?”

Flo half shrugs, almost annoyed by the question. “I’m not sure. Possibly a mix up somewhere with booking and reservations and whatnot. To get to your room you three just have to walk up to the third floor. Your room is in the south tower on the fifth floor. Bit of a strange numbering system, I know, but we’ve kept the layout of the hotel as close to original design as possible. We hope you enjoy your stay.”

Taking that as ignitive to leave, you walk over to the elevator with the others. You’d ask about Wyatt another time. Ruthie sends you all off with a double handed wave. It drops to one when it’s your turn to receive a fair well. Ruthie brings a finger up to his eye socket and drags it down to his cheek.

“Well…” Atlas starts. “We're still in the same location, and we'll most likely be seeing a lot of each other regardless of the situation.”

“Do you mind us paying you a visit?” Cass questions. “You’re the only reason I'm actually here…”

Ell chimes in. “Yeah, kinda lame deal if I can't try to bust down your door at any given moment.”

“I don't mind. Just give me a bit to get settled in first. I'll see you later.” You push the button on the elevator wall and wait for it to open. As you enter Atlas steps forward. 

“Maybe I should head up with you, just to be safe…”

Ell tugs the taller figure into a headlock and pulls him back. “Not so fast, Romeo. We spend time with them together or not at all. I won't give you the chance to shoot your shot with them so soon.”

Atlas flushes, barking out. “It's not like that!” 

“Don't lie to me. I've seen your wallpaper before. I've snuck a few pictures in my time, and I have no doubts that our other friend over there has as well.”

Cass is already halfway up the stairs before Ell gets her point across, frantically scrolling through their phone. Both Atlas and Ell chase after them.

“See you later, guys.” You press the button to your floor, a last minute rider keeping the doors from closing.

Ruthie steps inside the elevator and into the opposite corner where another button panel was placed. He closes the doors, before pressing every single button prior to your floor while making direct eye contact with you. 

The elevator goes up. The doors open and shut for the second floor. The fluff of the costume's chest rises with a breath. Another floor. His fingers twitch and his left leg shifts towards you. He starts to hum, tapping his foot against the metal floor. Two floors left and that soft drill draws out into a whistle. The cold wall envelopes you as you shrink in their corner. Ruthie teeters in your direction and then.. gets off on the fifth floor. 

The hare ducks beneath the elevator and crawls out into the hall, thunderous footsteps sounding throughout his entire descent. Reaching the end of the walkway, Ruthie turns and tilts his head as the doors slowly close. 

You shuffle out the elevator as soon as the doors open again, gunning for the room at the end of the hall with your assigned number. You jam your key into the lock and tumble inside the room. A balloon floats by your head as you lean against the door. You follow the floating orb trajectory to the bedside where a large gift basket sat on the pillows. Curious, you the item, pushing another stray balloon out of your way.

The basket is full of various treats from around the park as well as non-food items such as tee shirts and plush figures. The two in question are Ruthie and the newer addition to the crew, Bash the wolf. The hare carries his signature bottle of root beer and the canine holds a small mallet. Despite his weapon of choice and his scowl, Bash was a kind and timid creature afraid of his own shadow. The lesson his debut was founded on was about not being scared of those who don't seem approachable on first glance. The cellophane wrapping around the case was too thick to tear through, but a notecard hides between the plastic and the bottom of the basket.

“Welcome Home.”

 A heavy fist rattles the door in its frame. 

“Y/n? Are you in there? Atlas got us lost and we've been looking for you for like- twenty minutes.”

It's Ell. Probably with the others. You head over and unlock the door. Sure enough, the three park members wait behind it with smaller bags on their person, and Cass carrying a few plastic bags from a general store.

“You came over faster than I expected…” You gloss over their added luggage – and the pillow in Ell's arms.” Wait, are you planning to stay the night?”

“Okay if you’re okay with it.” Atlas quips. “We just thought it'd be a good way to break in the night, and it’s a long way away back so we brought over things just in case.”

“You got more than enough space to house us all.” Ell bounces over to the couch adjacent to the bed and the window, ending her exploration at the foot of your bed. “Your room is way bigger than ours and you have a nice view. You even got a whole basket of goods. Oh shit, are those funnel cakes bites?”

Ell pokes and prods at the bag to no avail. 

“Yeah, I couldn't get it open either. Anyone have any utensils?”

“You can use my knife..” Cass unsheathes a pocket knife from their jeans and hands it to you. There's a crow engraved on its side. You pass it off to Ell who then cuts open the plastic and at least asks before she digs in to her desired treats.

The rest of the night goes about the same as one would expect. You each take up a random corner in the room and discuss whatever topic comes to plate. Cass comes clean with more about themselves and lets it slip that aside from delivering your mail, they piloted various costumes around the park. Apparently they wanted to be a voice actor when they were little and the roles helped with that dream. They played Momo the clown, the last remaining character from the park's time as a circus and Ruthie’s closest friend. The young sibling of the Bandit Twins. And Farmer Crow.

“You're Crow?!”

Cass is quick to defend themselves. “O-only on weekends…”

The festivities end with you watching the fireworks show from the park at the window, and the others drawing straws to see where they’d sleep for the night. Ell gets the couch, Atlas the floor, and Cass at the end of the bed. As you try to fall asleep, your mind wanders towards what Ell said earlier. You did have a great view of the park from where you were. You had visuals on the entire park starting from the tent that blocks everything else out of sight. The park closed hours ago, but the lights inside  it are still on.

“Don't you think it's weird?”

Half asleep you pick up on a hushed conversation at the end of your bed. 

“What?” 

“You stole the candies so you could be alone with them, but there were way more than you had in your bag, and they had to have a backup plan if something serious happened. Isn’t it a little strange we're the only ones here?” 

“A little, now that you mentioned it. The receptionist said more people were coming.”

“I guess… Night, Cass.”

You pull the blankets up to your chin and close your eyes, cradling the stuffed animals as you drift off to sleep.

[rozinaaa]

Living A Somewhat Analogue Life Somehow Feels Pretentious And Very Impractical In 2024

I somehow got stuck in a time warp and got scammed out of an hour this morning, simply because I decided to use my analogue bedside alarm clock instead of my phone to wake me up, although I have been doing this for a couple of weeks now.

I literally have no idea how (or why) it happened, but I naturally woke up at half past six (although it was actually half past 7, but I didn't know it at the time), and was glad that I woke up early for once, not really factoring in or processing the fact that it was suspiciously light for 6:30am on the 12th of February, which would have given me some pointers that I had accidentally overslept without realising it.

I then spent an uncertain amount of time waking up and having breakfast like normal, and wondering why the other clocks said it was 8 o'clock, instead of 7 o'clock, simply putting it down to the fact that the clocks might have stopped at some point in the night (despite the fact that they were working), until I looked at the time on a phone and on other devices, quickly realising that they displayed the correct time, which was actually a few minutes past 8, and is what caused me to basically speedrun my morning routine just to be able to log in to my work accounts like normal, even though the hours are somewhat flexible.

Had I simply not been so hellbent on attempting to live an analogue life, this would not have happened, although this is a fairly interesting lesson that I've learned.

This has also made me think about how analogue things can falter, and how they might not always be reliable, since they can potentially cause you to somehow get scammed out of an hour, although the same can be said for digital tools.

In a way, I'm glad that there's the technology to do things as accurately as possible (such as digital clocks in any context), because had the analogue clocks been the only option, I would have been royally screwed, and I would have accidentally lived in a different time zone without realising it, but I'm glad that this happened on a day that I was working from home, since it would have been a borderline nightmare if it happened when I had to go in to the office.

With all of this said, I'm now reconsidering my approach (oh great, now this sounds like one of those stupid Linkedin posts) towards low tech things in an era where there's a ridiculous amount of innovation in a ridiculously short amount of time, which quickly renders older solutions obsolete and more inefficient, compared to the newer things, which (in the grand scheme of things) will save you a lot of time and effort, as well as being able to improve the quality of life.

I'm now imagining what my job would look like if it was completely analogue.

First of all, my job as a UI Designer simply wouldn't exist, since there wouldn't be any interfaces to design (does an analogue clock face count as an interface?), let alone the fact that the technology wouldn't even exist to be able to make any of this possible, so at best, I'd most likely be a print designer (that would use traditional methods of printmaking) or a sign painter, if that.

I would also be expected to physically go to work 5 days a week, which seems like a headache, since commuting for 1-2 days a week already feels more than enough for me, but at least it still gets me out into the real world, so that I don't end up being out of touch.

As of now, being analogue is basically obsolete, and somewhat pretentious, since the only people that do it are either hipsters, or extremely stubborn (and usually old) people who are undeniably stuck in their ways.

All of this would have been normal 100 years ago (since that was basically the only option), but now, it's basically a form of social commentary and swimming against the tide, which needlessly makes things harder than they have to be.

[viraaddryt]

Done with social media?

It has been so long not to write things on this tumblr again, either it is for sharing or for self-reminder. So let me tell the story about the Christmas break this year.

Since I am currently work on my thesis, so basically I have the flexibility to work whenever and wherever I want. Honestly, parts of me wants to spend the holiday just being at home and work on my thesis as the deadline is approaching as well. Although another part of me also has a sense of FOMO that wants to get holiday like what most people do during this time. So, we decided to just go to the neighbor country of the Netherlands which is Brussels, Belgium. We went to Den Haag Moerwijk on 23th December, Saturday afternoon to sleep over at Tante Fau's house. On the next day morning which is Sunday, we went to brussels by train about 2 hours and spent one day for sight seeing this city. It was raining almost all day, thankfully we had the umbrella with us, so we didn't have to stop or delay our day-trip. We first went to the royal market, but then we were hungry so we were looking for halal food but some restaurants still not opened yet even it was already 10.30 a.m! After a walk for about 15 minutes, we found turkish cafe and ate there. Then, we continued our tour to the grand palace and the so called manaken pis. Nothing was excite me, to be honest. But since I was browsing on the internet that there is grand mosque in Brussels, I was so keen to visit and pray there. Surprisingly, the mosque's location is very strategic, at the heart of the city. It is located just across the EU office building, on the side of the road, and at the same area of a big famous park in Brussels. The mosque is quite big and function as Islamic center which had madrasah as well. Then, we went to the famous iconic atomium and ending our trip with eating wafels and buying chocolate for tante fau.

Fast forward to monday's evening, we got invited by kak kau (tante fau's daughter) to had a dinner with them and their family at their house. We had a house tour by kak kau and tante fau. The design and interior of their house is very interesting, they adopt industrial-modern-minimalist concept for their house. It is beautiful, smart, warm and cozy! Meanwhile, the dinner was so good, they cooked turkish meal. As starter, we ate lentyl's soup made by kak kau's mother in law which is so tasty and also gyoza made by kak kau. Then, for the main course we had grilled salmon and tuna accompanied by pomegranate salad with chop lettuce and lamb cheese, very lekker! also combine with fried potato. Then, for the dessert we had bowl of mix grapes, strawberry and persimmon with lemon. Ah, it was a really tasty dinner!

After we finished our dinner, I and husband have a chat with kak kau, she also served as with hot tea. She told us that she's been working for cyber security for one of the bank in the Netherlands. She told us that she never have any social media, except linkedin since it is a professional platform for job purpose. It amazed us, since we never had a friend who's not or never on social media. I told to her that we are Indonesian is so attached with that like it is part of our daily life. Although, I do aware it wasted my time so much but it is still too addictive for me. She told us that by being active on social media, it is more likely that anyone can stole our data privacy. There is a potential of data leakage which perhaps later can be used by unknown people for applying debt or anything related to cyber crime. She also said the reason why she is not into social media is also because she wants to keep her life private and not want to waste her time. I said to her that some of my Dutch friend I know also prefer not to have any social media, or if they have they would prefer not to put their real name. Then, she thought maybe it is also because dutch is more skeptical. Despite she has a lot of skills like painting, playing a piano, photography and traveling which on my perspectives would be very interesting for people if she wants to put her life on social media, but she choose not to do that. I asked her how did she coped with boredom as I often open my social media to kill the boredom. She replied that she would read the book or e-book. She also told us how she spent her holiday without bothered by phone because she wants to really feel the holiday. Wow oh wow, what a peaceful. mindful and productive life she had!

Honestly, I do aware of the negative side of social media and really wants to limit my activity on social media as well. But the problem is I am still not that firm to do that and I still wants to keep my memories somewhere that maybe would never be vanished. Although deep down, I want my life to be more productive and meaningful.

That was a really nice evening. Hope that when I read this again in the future, I can see myself and my husband as a productive and successful person who does not really care about social media anymore and live a mindful, meaningful, and very pleasant life!

Tuesday, 27/12/2023 at 00.13 a.m. Beringhem E-9, Commandeursweg 500, Bennekom, The Netherlands.

[dojunie]

★★★

desc: random iotas of what—out of being buzzed, tipsy, or drunk— i think the members of nct dream are most likely to be at a party! since dear jisung is officially of age, i thought this would be an interesting thing to write! (also yay first offical post ??? hmhmhm :-])

warnings: mentions of, obviously, alcohol!

members: all of nct dream!

wc: about 2k!

mark lee; buzzed, because he's usually designated driver, but is no stranger to getting turnt.

As much as everyone would love to see this goody two-shoes really let loose, Mark is more the type to quit while he's ahead— which means cutting himself off when he's just getting started with his drinks. Responsible Older Brother vibes, you know? Just enough to be conversational, maybe a little loose, a little giggly, but not too much that he doesn't have all his faculties in check at the end of the night, because the idea of not remembering the night before definitely freaks him out. BUT! When he DOES let it go, on the rare occasion he's not DD'ing for his blacked out friends, I feel like Mark gets Super Incredibly Fucked Up. Krumping on kitchen islands, fucked up. Can be talked into doing literally anything, fucked up. It's like one second he's completely fine, hanging with his buds, having a grand old time, and then all of a sudden he's bouncing off the walls and laughing wildly, dancing with anybody who looks at him, having the time of his life, and telling everyone who will listen that he 'loves them so much he could just die'. Yes, even to people he barely knows. Declarations of love are commonplace when Mark is a few drinks in.

And everyone knows that Mr. Mark Lee is quite talkative already, but get ready to quite possibly get your whole ear jabbered off if Mark decides that you're his buddy for the night. You'd better hope to god you don't have to use the bathroom anytime soon because Mark will go on forever if you let him; and who could ever say no to a face like that? (Especially when it's speaking so emphatically about what song he's been learning on the guitar that week, how cool his new dance teacher is, and the rap concert his friend TY is taking him to the next day?? You'd have to be a real mean son of a gun to interrupt that.)

huang renjun; tipsy, but like... heavily so.

And he's a giggly tipsy person, too. The touchy, always laughing, everything is absolutely hilarious, draping himself on people, way too close to you when he's talking kind— that kind of tipsy. It's cute though; it's like he sheds just about every calm, mature inhibition when he's got a few drinks in him, and by a few drinks, I mean a few drinks, because there is no doubt in my mind that Jun is a lightweight. Two shots of something strong and he’ll start getting all smiley; laughing himself to tears at things that aren’t really meant to be jokes. If he manages four shots? He's holding onto people around him because his legs won't keep him upright. Six shots and he's hugging and clinging to people he doesn't fucking know, and one of the other boys will have to use force to pry him off of whatever poor person has become his new smootch victim crutch for the night. (But... who doesn't want a half-drunk, giddy, outside-voice-right-in-your-ear using, gooey Renjun latched onto their side for an hour or two? Right?)

Renjun will want to do stuff when he's under the influence. He'll want to bake, and draw, and play Mario Kart, and dance, and he’ll want to adventure! …But he’s also incredibly impatient, so he's going to give up on all of those things about ten minutes in and it''ll be up to you to turn the oven off, and move the paints out of the way before he tramples them, turn off the blaring music he's magically stopped hearing, and half carry him back home when he gets bored of adventuring. He’ll sing at the top of his lungs in public places, and will bite you if you try to cover his mouth when you get glares. (Will also try to fight the people who glare.) Yes. He's an angry drunk, too. Will switch from extreme, cute tittering, to glares and pouts and half baked bickering. It kind of loses its heat though when the angry drunk in question is 5'7, too woozy to stand up straight, and hiccups after every death threat. (Just don't let him know that.)

lee jeno; WASTED!

This man gets Project X levels of turnt. Jeno, much like non-DD Mark, drinks like it's his last night on earth if he's in the situation where the vibes are right (and if he's with his friends, the vibes are always right). He doesn't do that responsible, slow, sipping-sipping shit, either: He is the embodiment of 'Drink First, Ask Questions Later', and this can be attested by the fact that he doesn't even ask what's in a drink before he tosses it down his throat and Kobe's the cup into the trash.

You'd think he'd be one of those that basically become a wobbly, barely-sentient couch potato after how he drinks, right? Wrong! Jeno, amongst his other talents, is also one of those magical, superhuman people who'll be half a Jaeger handle into the night and still dust you in beer pong, hacky sack, charades, and just about every other party game that normal people can barely pull off completely sober. He'll slur his words and stutter his sentences and forget what he's talking about halfway through a conversation, but if you dare him to do a backflip off the roof into the pool in the backyard? Prepare to get him a towel. You wanna challenge him to a handstand competition after he just shotgunned two cans of 4loko? Have fun throwing up your insides in a few minutes, because Jeno will not only win, but double your time for fun, do a lap around the whole house on his hands, and do a kegstand afterwards. Jeno gets wasted, but where normal men would fall, his manic power will only grow.

lee donghyuck; drunk, but no matter how much he drinks, he just seems a little tipsy to everyone else.

I feel as though Hyuck can drink and drink and drink and only ever reach, like... Slightly More Touchy & Giggly Donghyuck mode. He's already always so boisterous that it’s hard to imagine he'll be anything new when he's got a few drinks in; someone tells you he's kissing people? Duh, he does that when he's sober. Hyuck is picking people up and licking them and laughing in their ears and refusing to let go of strangers he just met? …So? You could tell me that at 9AM on a Monday morning and I'd just go, 'Oh, Fr? Yeah, Hyuck is like that :)'. And TBH... if anything, I think Donghyuck might actually Simmer Down a bit when he's drunk. He'll get all touchy like Jun does, but more in the 'I'm going to wrap myself around you on this couch and cry if you try to get up and leave me', type of way. In the 'I'm going to stare at you while you talk and not absorb a single word because I am 1. trying so incredibly hard not to kiss you, a person i met ten minutes ago, and 2. I might fall over if I sit up too fast' kind of way. Hyuck gets drunk, but the thing is that you just don’t realize it because… he’s kind of just always like that.

He falls in love with people who pay him the barest attention. Wears his heart on his sleeve (even more obviously than usual). If you thought he was flirty before? Hoo boy. You'll be swept off your feet with drunk Donghyuck, and I mean this quite literally: because Hyuck is already possibly the most touchy, no-personal-space-having person that has ever existed on planet earth when he's sober, much less when he can't think straight about whether he should really be scooping this pretty stranger off the ground or not. (Though, obviously, if it's you he's clinging to— you can't really say you mind it too much.)

na jaemin; is either barely buzzed or sloppy, barely understandable, might need to go to the Emergency Room, tanked.

No inbetween. He plays nice on most nights. Prefers to sip at a white claw or something, you know, something light. Likes to sit on the walls and talk to his friends and people-watch— maybe dance a little bit at the end of the party when a song he likes is on and he's a little unsteady, just the barest bit inebriated. But. If you catch this man on a good night— or, if you ask the people who have to take care of him afterwards, a Fucking Bad Night?— prepare to be terrorized. Because Jaemin? Jaemin with a few shots in him? Drunk Na Jaemin? Drunk Jaemin becomes an agent of chaos.

Not only does he basically start speaking in tongues— so, while he’s doing his bullshit, he’s also completely incoherent— he's a runner. He's one of those. The phrase 'Has anyone seen Jaemin recently?' will strike fear into your bones if you're one of the people entrusted with keeping him alive that night. One moment he's grinding on some person on the dance floor, looking like sex personified, shirt half off and having the time of his life. You take your eyes off of him for one second and then he's trying to climb from the balcony onto the roof because Chenle dared him he couldn't make it into the neighbors backyard pool from there. Or, you find him half a block down the street, sobbing all of a sudden because trying to type the directions to the nearest 7-11 in his phone and, because he's drunkenly only typing 'sexy elev near close' into his notes app, he can't figure out where to go. It's your job to shepherd him back into the house and wipe his tears, maybe try to cheer him up by giving him a capri sun or something, but guess what? In ten minutes he'll be back on the dance floor swinging from the light fixtures. Na Jaemin is a mixed bag. (And the highlight of it all? He never remembers any of it the next morning.)

zhong chenle; buzzed.

Do I even need to explain this? Look at him. Chenle, at his youthful 20, is a wine aunt. He is a Wine. Aunt. The type that can down half a bottle of 400 year old wine out of plastic chucky cheese cup and still fuck you up in a game of horse on the basketball court afterwards. Instead of only getting insanely intoxicated once in a blue moon, LeLe is perpetually at about a shot and a half levels of intoxication. Just enough to make everything feel a little fun around his six, comparably less alcoholic friends. He can't stand the taste of beer, or, god forbid, convenience store liquor, and exclusively drinks special shit you can only buy if you know somebody who knows somebody: but he shares! That's the great thing about drinking with Chenle. He shares all of his weird old alcohol. (Though, it's fair to bring up that it might only be because he loves seeing his friends get so severely intoxicated that they trip and fall and crash into things and do stupid shit. It's most likely that, knowing him, but you'll give him the benefit of the doubt). Another thing is that Chenle can outdrink every single one of the Dreamies. I will bet money on this. (Sagittarius vibes XXX)

The only person who can come close is Jeno, and everyone always thinks 'this time will be it!! when Chenle gets usurped!!' because Jeno is incredibly good at not physically appearing drunk... but then after like the 8th shot of LeLe's magically tasteless, 80% ABV, neon green poison wine, Jeno will lay down for a little break and then just not get back up again until the next day. Hence, Chenle, who is rolling his eyes and pouring his own ninth shot and opening up TurboTax to log his last months spending, is the uncontended winner. As always.

park jisung; wasted. Definitely drunk. But like... in the I’m-still-kinda-new-to-this way, where he isn't aware of his limits yet and keeps accepting the drinks being pushed into his hands because he doesn't know any better, and ends up Fucked Up twenty minutes into the function because his bastard friends keep refilling his cup and he can't say no. The type who's whole face turns pink after the first shot because he's trying to look cool and not gag even though he's about one wrong swallow from throwing up entirely.

Jisung will get fascinated by the most mundane of things when he’s inebriated; how the LED lights at the party switch from color to color, how soupy his limbs feel when he moves, how far away and simultaneously close up and wobbly everything looks when he looks at it for too long. He has to remind himself to stop staring at everything, at the floor, and the drink in his hands, at you when you’re talking to him; because everything is just so weird, but… nice weird, and he's not used to it yet. (He will probably never be, TBH). Probably another one like Donghyuck, who hates being left alone, but instead of demanding his person of interest stay with him— he'll simply just get up and follow them around. You're going into the kitchen? Cool, Jisung will come too! Someone is calling you on the phone, so you have to step out for a second? He'll keep you company, doing nothing but staring up in awe at the stars the entire time, and he'll get so into it that you're the one who has to drag him back inside afterwards. Drunk Park Jisung and Freshly Born Puppy are interchangeable phrases; All wobbly limbs and sudden revelations about life and absolute no control over their inside voice. Jisung doesn’t drink often, and surely not for fun because that shit tastes nasty to him still, but when he does give into his friends ribbing and teasing? It’s always the cutest show in the world for anyone lucky enough to see it.

(a/n: first offical post! letz goooo!! more is to come :-D)

[witchlyboo]

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Taglist:

@eridanuswave @cjand10 @deluxeplanteater @rorodendra @navs-bhat @coxxxxxpi @leviosatothestars

Thanks for all the love and support, if you have opinions, suggestions, or want to be part of the tag list (Or don’t want to be part anymore) let me know, I appreciate every message.

[wiypt-writes]

Rock ‘n’ Roll People In A Disco World

Part 1- Disco Down

Intro: It's range day. SWAT vs LAPD Special Crimes branch. You and your finance decide to have a bit of fun with the interdepartmental competition.

Pairing: Paul Diskant x Reader

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: So yeah, I started another series. Bad WIYBUPT. But there aint enough Disco out there so I thought I’d rectify that situation. This is also another entry for @imanuglywombat​ ‘s  “Is That Even A Sex Position” weekly challenge. This position is called “Juicy Ass”. See here for more information.

Rock ‘n’ Roll People Masterlist // Main Masterlist

It was early in the morning, the first warm rays of the LA sunshine had barely begun warming the pavement when the two of you had started your day. Paul was already pouring you both coffee to go as you met him in the kitchen, dressed in your Swat training tee, utility pants and standard issue uniform boots, hair French braided back. You smirked at the dapper young detective before you, slacks, dress shoes, button down and tie. 

It'd been a gruelling last few weeks for you both. You were working a SWAT case with your unit and Paul was busy working an LAPD Vice officer's homicide. He would trudge in late at night, either from the precinct or more recently from a night out with Vice following some leads. You were always already asleep and he didn't want to wake you. He'd kiss you softly, shower, kiss you again and crawl into bed, hugging you close.

Now, you were both getting ready to head out, finally having slept in the same bed together for the first time in weeks. Given your nature, the two of you were playfully squabbling over the upcoming late afternoon's task, a joint fire arms training session between your unit, LAPD SWAT and Paul's unit. The joint time spent at the range always turned into pool of who'd win and, usually, was too close to call rounding off with each team going head to head in a final duel. 

And things were getting competitive in the Diskant home. 

"If I can make it," Paul grumbled, "we should sweeten the deal."

"You'll make it.” You popped a shoulder. “Paul Diskant doesn't miss a day at the range, nor friendly competition. So, name your terms?" You smirked mischievously over the rim of your mug, watching him adjust his tie. 

"Winner gets a favor." Paul devilishly replied. 

"What kind of favor?" You played along and the look on his face already made your insides squirm as he raised a brow and curled his lips further in his smirk. "Paul!"

"Y/N!" Paul mimicked, cutting the distance between you, big hands on your hips, thumbs rubbing along your shirt. "Baby, it's been days. This Vice case has me pulled away longer than I have been since I was a beat cop."

You rolled your eyes and wrapped your arm around his shoulder, fingers grazing the point where the short hairs of his buzz-cut met his neck. 

“Fine." You kissed him deeply, the taste of coffee on both your tongues but something that was just him too. "We'll call it a bonus." “Bonus...” he nodded. “I can run with that.”

“You couldn’t run a fucking bath, Disco.” "Oh Sweetheart, you're on." The challenge in his voice and mischief in his eyes lit a fire under you. You kissed him again and moved away, a swift smack from his hand to your ass made you yip but you kept walking. 

****

The drive into the station was quiet, you reading over your training schedule for the day and Paul driving. The only sound that filled the vehicle was the sound of him humming along to the radio, thumb tapping along to the beat of the song on his steering wheel, before you heard him let out a loud sigh.  

"I have some stuff to chase down this morning but if nothing pans out, I should be at the range with the rest of my unit."

"Well, then I'll hope it doesn't pan out, just so I can kick your ass with my Glock," you chuckled as he let out a groan.

"Baby, you know, watching you handle that Glock and riffle makes me horny as fuck right? Nothing like a woman that can shoot," Paul admitted. He took your left hand away from the file and pressed his lips to the top of it. He knew why you did it, but he still hated not seeing your diamond flashing on your finger all day. 

"Oh yeah?" You turned your standard issued sunglass covered eyes to him, "is that why you wanted to marry me?" 

Paul chortled, “one reason among the many."

He pulled into the carport and parked in his designated spot. You exited the vehicle and gathered your bag from the popped trunk. 

"See you at the range, don't be late, or I'll have to listen to Rodriguez bitch as she drives me home." You gave him a teasing kiss and slung your bag over your shoulder, walking away. 

"Hey, Y/N?" He called after you. You stopped and turned around to look at him, lifting your sunglasses to the top of your head. "Don’t waste too much energy today, huh? You’re gonna need all the strength you have tonight, Baby."

You chuckled to yourself, "Just show up, we'll talk energy later," you rolled your eyes and walked off, flipping him the bird over your shoulder. 

The scorching sun boiled across the training facility tucked between the hills of the valley, away from the hustle of the city and just far enough out of reach for civilians. Abandoned buildings and, green fields and a simulated neighborhood made up the grand, multi-million dollar facility. You and your team had been at it all morning, moving through the buildings in full tactical gear and safety equipment. Together you cleared buildings, fired upon fake assailants and suspects. You and your partner, Alma Rodriguez, even hit the weights and boxing bags to keep loose after a hand to hand session against Everett and Evans. To keep your trigger fingers hot and ready, you played a round of long range sniper poker, you of course beating the team with a straight flush, bullets hitting their targets dead center. 

It was the last hours of daylight by the time Special Branch showed up and you couldn't help but smirk as you watched Paul set up his gear from across the field. Long gone were his slacks and tie, and now, he was dressed in a tight black tee with the edges of his two bicep tattoos peeking out from the hem, and uniform issue pants and boots, his wrap arounds shielding those beautiful blues you loved getting lost in. 

You smirked as the two of you locked glances, his smile forming across plump lips. A cocky flick of his head was sent in your direction and you laughed, pulling a hundred dollar bill from your pocket and slapping it flat against the table. 

The competition started, pairing SWAT members against Specials, two by two until both your captains were the final two. 

"Shooters on the line," the facility command officer called. Each shooter stepped up, readying their rifles. Your team lined up behind your boss, Paul and his desk buddies watching from their side. "Stand by... Ready..." The whistle sounded and the first shots at their prospective targets were fired. 

Firing judges followed behind each shooter, judging accuracy, safety and protocol. Three rifle shots fired down range and the shooters tossed their weapons to the side, tucking and rolling one roll with their hand on their pistol all while watchful eyes looked on. Your boss didn't roll, but Paul's did and the snickering started from Special Branch. It didn't deter your focus as you watched your boss, Captain Rogers, finish the round. Three shots fired at metal targets, each one going down in accuracy, then a clip reload and three more shots fired at a close range target before the commanding judge asked both men to put their weapons on safe and holster them. He approached each target for accuracy and declared Paul's boss, Captain Wilson, the winner of the round. That brought the two teams to a tie. 

The Detectives cheered and razzed SWAT but both captains settled their groups down. The field judge confirmed the tie in the competition and groans sounded from both teams. 

"I'll tell you what, I'll toss in an extra two hundred bucks to pit Y/L/N against your pick," Rogers held two one hundred dollar bills up, handing them over to the field judge for safe keeping. 

"Alright, I see your two and raise two," Captain Wilson held out his bills, "for Diskant to take that challenge."

"Oooooooh", both teams razzed the real life couple. 

You couldn’t help the smirk on your face as one of Paul’s colleagues piped up that this could back fire spectacularly as would Paul really want to risk pissing off the woman who controlled his sex life.

“That’s exactly why he wants to win,” you jibed back, causing him to roll his eyes and scoff, “because his sex life is on the line if he doesn’t.”

More laughter rang out across the area as Paul merely shrugged, a smile flickering across his face as you heard Rogers speak loudly to Wilson from behind you.

“Between us, two hundred on my girl to blow your man outta the water."

Paul leaned down, to whisper into your ear, a smirk plying on his lips, "something's gonna get blown."

"What was that?" You coyly played. 

“Sure you wanna do this?” He asked, turning to look at you, his brow arched. “I mean you could just forfeit now and save yourself the embarrassment.”

You held his gaze for a moment before you made a show of dragging your eyes down his body, your gaze lingering on his crotch as if you were contemplating his offer, before you raised your head, your tongue poking out from between your lips a little.

“Did you forget to zip up?" You asked. Paul gave a start, his head jerking down to look at his ‘piece’ so to speak, and at that moment the whistle was blown to start.

The first shots were fired, Paul's just seconds behind yours. Tucking behind the mailboxes for your next shot, you nailed your target and moved forward to fire your final rifle round, using a metal barrel as your cover. You laid your riffle to rest, took a few steps, tucked your chin and rolled, planting your feet and rising up to draw your personal firearm. Poised for your next quick shot behind a mock window frame, you fired at the target and moved on, Paul's form in your peripheral, matching you shot for shot. Coming around the frame you fired a walking shot at your next target and then took your place at the final marker, firing away before the expected reload and emptying your clip into the standing paper target with his hostage. 

"Safety on... Holsters." The range judge called after he blew his whistle. You and Paul followed his commands and waited as he examined your individual targets. It was close, you knew it. Paul was an excellent shot. 

You watched as the judge looked over Paul's target first, poking his finger through two holes in the face before moving on to yours. You nailed your target, all three shots hitting the suspect. One dead shot to the center of his head, the other in the chest and the last in the torso. 

"Here's your winner," the judge declared, pointing at your target. 

Cheers began to ring out and you heard Paul groan loudly, turning to you. "You cheated.”

"I guess the favor's on you," You quipped as behind him you saw Captain Rogers holding his hand out, ready to receive the cash prize from Wilson.  

“You still cheated.”

“I did no such thing!” You scoffed.

“You distracted me.” He folded his arms across his chest, a sullen pout on his handsome face.

“Well, you should know better than to take your eye off the target, Disco,” you smirked and he narrowed his eyes playfully. “On second thought, I think I will let Rodriguez take me home. Burgers and beer on you. Don't forget the extra pickles."

He smirked, his lips brushing yours as he spoke, "come on, ride back with me, I'll make it worth your while."

"Erm, unless I'm mistaken you just lost so..." You popped a shoulder, your eyes not leaving his as you began walking backwards away from him. "I'm in charge."

“I want a divorce.” He shot back and you laughed, shaking your head.

“We’re not married yet, hot shot.” You winked.

“Details.” He waved his hand and you snorted, before you turned and jogged to catch up with your colleagues.

*****

As per your instructions, Paul didn’t forget the extra pickles and later that evening the pair of you were sat on the sofa in your comfy clothes, food and beer in hand as you lounged back watching a film on the Television. You stole a glance at your fiancé for a moment, his sharp profile illuminated in the soft light of the lamp to his right. He really was incredibly handsome, and you often wondered daily how the hell you’d gotten so lucky, as he could have had his pick of women, they tended to fall at his feet wherever you went. But he’d chosen you. Not only that, he’d pursued you. It had taken him a good few weeks after you’d both met on a case when he was in Uniform to finally accept his offer of a date. The dates had continued, and six months later you’d moved in together, and a year or so after that, he’d gotten down on one knee in the middle of your apartment and asked you to be his wife.

Which, reminded you of something you’d heard before.

With a smirk you turned your attention back to the film, took another bite of your burger before you spoke, your tone light and airy.

"So... strippers huh?"

Paul hastily swallowed his food and turned to look at you. "What?"

"Nothing, just typical."

"No, what?" He chuckled.

"I just heard one of the guys before commenting about how the wedding is getting closer so the stag do needs planning. The words Vegas and strippers were mentioned. Several times"

"Fucking Adler, man," he shook his head, dropping his empty burger container into the paper bag on the table in front of you.

“So you are going to Vegas, then?” You shoved another fry in your mouth to stop the smirk from spreading at the teasing.

"Uh, yeah," his reply was nonchalant, but he rubbed at his neck in that way he always did when he was a little nervous or uncomfortable. His big tell.

"Right. And there will be strippers?”

“Yes, there PROBABLY will be strippers." He side eyed you a little as he reached for his beer, the faint flush of red visible on the back of his neck as you took the final bite of your food.

“How probably?”

"There MAYBE be a night at the club." He leaned back, bottle in hand.

"Dicks." You gave a dramatic sigh, dropping your now empty food container into the bag with his. You made a show of scrunching down the top of the bag, dropping it to the floor by the side of the sofa, ready to be taken to the trash, before you leaned back, shaking your head.

"What?" he turned to you, beer paused halfway to his mouth.

"Oh, no, I was just saying, at my hen do there will be dicks. Lots of dicks."

“What the fuck?” He spluttered and you shrugged, not looking at him, feigning concentration on the television.

“I can't have strippers too? Tut, tut Disco, that's very old fashioned."

There was a pause, and you waited for his reaction, knowing it could go one of two ways. Out and out petulant protesting, or some sort of childish, half witty come back.

"You know, my dick is by far the most important." He chose the latter.

"You mean you are the most important dick?"

“Yeah.” He conceded. “Hey, least I’m important in some way.”

At that you laughed and moved a little closer to him. He shifted, allowing you to snuggle under his arm, pressing a kiss to your head.

“You know what else is important?” You asked, your hand gently tracing shapes on his white tee.

“What?”

“That you don’t forget that you owe me a favor, Detective Diskant." “That I do.” He agreed, and you felt him nod.

“So, there’s a pile of ironing that needs doing and the bed sheets need changing tomorrow. Can you manage?”

At that he let out a loud guffaw, his chest rumbling against your cheek. "Seriously, Baby?" He glanced down at you as you tipped your head up to look at him. "Absolutely," you winked

“I am at your complete mercy to satisfy you in any way you want... and you ask me to do chores?” He rolled his eyes. “You’re losing your sense of adventure, Sweetheart.” "Oh I have a sense of adventure, but a bet is a bet and we've pulled three doubles between the two of us so shits gotta get done, and you lost, therefore, you... are... my... bitch.” Your words were punctuated by soft jabs to his chest with your index finger and Paul groaned, throwing his head back against the sofa as he scrunched his eyes closed.

“Fuck my life.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” You looked at him and he opened his eyes. “Fuck my wife?”

“We’re not married yet.” He smirked, arching an eyebrow at you as he played back your words from earlier.

“Details,” you played along and he laughed as you shifted a little more so your face was level with his. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

With a cheeky grin he leaned over, pressing his lips to yours, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as the kiss grew deeper, his tongue slowly sliding against yours. You let out a soft moan, shifting a little, your hand cupping his face and then he pulled back. You pouted at the loss of contact and opened your eyes to shoot him a glare, to find him smirking a little.

"Double or nothing, I bet I can make you cum in less than two minutes.”

“Two minutes?” You arched a brow, biting your lip a little as you squirmed at the frankly filthy look in his eyes. “Now?”

“Yup.”

“Bring it on.” You threw down the gauntlet. “But that doesn’t include the time it takes me to get you naked.” He grinned, shifting a little so he was side on, facing you.

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes. “Or the foreplay.”

“Jesus Christ, Paul, just get on with it. You said two minutes. Clock starts the second you start, your challenge not mine. He grabbed your beer bottle and placed it along with his on the table with a bang. “You saying you don’t want me to love on you a little bit before I bang you into next week?” His voice was low as he hovered over you a little, his face inches from yours. "I'm saying I'm fucking desperate, that's what I'm saying."

"Then I won't need two minutes.” He grinned, pressing further into you, causing you to lay back on the sofa.

“God, you’re so full of it.” You narrowed your eyes.

“You’re gonna be full of it soon.” He smirked, his lips pressing to yours. "Stop... Talking... And... Do... It," you demanded between his dizzying, little pecks. His lips curled into a smile against yours as his hands gently trailed up the outside of your smooth thighs, thumbs grazing under the hem of your cut offs. The assault from his lips already soaking you.

It wouldn't take much, you both were fully aware of it. Nearly a week apart or just missing each other had you two desperately seeking release. The question was, who would cave first. He said two minutes and you knew he could hold off until you were good and worked over. His fingers slipped between your denim shorts and he gave a low groan as he felt your damp panties. His kiss grew hungrier and he was quickly on your flies, your shorts were down your leg in a matter of seconds, tossed over the back of the sofa, panties with them. 

He moved to a kneel, one hand gently hooking your right leg up to rest against the back of the couch, knocking the other to the side, your foot falling automatically to the floor, toes pressing onto the soft carpet, leg bent at the knee. You don't even register how fast he moved downwards, and part of you wondered if he lost on purpose. A flat long swipe tasted at your folds.

"Jesus," it felt glorious and your back arched off the sofa in delight. There was a wee bit of scruff causing a tease of friction against your inner thighs and although you weren't timing him, you knew it couldn't have been more than sixty seconds when his tongue dipped into your hole causing you to cry out. 

"Fuck, Paul..."

He gave a little chuckle, mouth vibrating against your nub which he grazed with his teeth. You bit your lip as your insides began to tremble, you were so desperately trying to hold off just to get that last win over him, but it was useless. That rumble had you in the throes of it and you were gone, your legs shaking as you came, your walls clamping around nothing as you gasped, your body shuddering with pleasure.

The smirk and glisten that was evident on his lips as he sat up and caged you in, had you clawing at his shorts. "I win."

"Yeah, okay, you smug little shit,” your voice was breathy as you recovered from your high, your hands pulling at the drawstring in the middle of his abs. “Dare I ask how you want me?”

His baby blues, already dark with desire, flashed and he pressed his lips to yours, his mouth dominating and you could taste yourself on him. You groaned as his hands slid up, cupping your face and he pulled back.

“Hands on the floor, feet on the coffee table, knees bent.”

You blinked, “what?”

“Hands on the floor, feet on the coffee table, knees bent.” He repeated.

Okay, so this was new…

With a final, suspicious look at him as he moved back, you stood, jumping and emitting a little squeak as he slapped your ass as you went. Taking a deep breath you turned, placed your hands on the floor and rested the tops of your feet on the coffee table, your knees bent.

“So you can do as you’re told.” Paul smirked, standing up off the sofa.

“When I want to.” You peeked up at him as best you could to see him sliding his shorts down his legs, stepping out of them before he moved round and threw his leg over your shins. His hands slid up the outside of your thighs, coming to rest on your waist as he pulled you back a little, his erection pressing into your behind as he ground against you, giving a little hiss.

“Fuck, baby you look so good from back here.” He moaned, bending over slightly to press a kiss to your spin and you shivered, your arms wobbling a little and you began to worry just how much of this you could take.

“Paul, seriously, just…”

“Patience.” He cut you off as he gave your ass a soft slap making you emit a noise that was half way between a squeal and a laugh as he positioned himself behind you, and you immediately missed the warmth of his chest where it had been pressed to your back moments ago.

You felt the tip of his dick as it poked at your entrance, and he had no problem slipping inside your already soaked folds. But the angle and the pressure of your body closed off as he slipped inside you set your nerves on fire. You both moaned out together as he slid home, his balls to your clit.

You felt how thick he was against your walls. A little twitch and flutter from his shaft as you both remained still, you silently begging and waiting for him to move. His fingertips gently dug into your hips as he slowly pulled back and moved forward again.

"Fuck, baby, so fucking tight, like this," Paul ground out as he pumped slowly in and out of you. He was taking his time, slow thrusts and long pulls back. In truth, it was agony, but a beautiful torture. And a torture that he continued again, and again, and again. Over and over, in no rush whatsoever, a sharp contrast to where he’d brought you off before on the couch as fast as he could.

Your arms were shaking from baring the position but you wanted more. And as the bubbles of pleasure slowly simmered through your core and deep into your belly, you moaned out your demand. "Harder."

"Oh, fuck," Paul quivered inside you but picked up his pace, his hips slamming into yours, your insides squeezing him tightly as his hands gripped at your hips, blunt nails biting against your skin. With every thrust forward you were jolted, your palms sliding on the rough surface of the rug underneath you, and you curled your fingertips into the deep, cream coloured shag in an attempt to prevent yourself from face planting straight onto the floor.

"Yeah, just like that," you panted, your elbows locking as you pushed yourself up slightly, "oh fuck, Paul!" You could tell by his breathing and how he felt inside you that he was ready to cum but he could always hold off until you had yours. "So close," you managed to pant out, letting him know you weren’t far.

He slowed his pace, bending his body down your spine again, and pressed his lips to the back of your neck, "just," he thrusted, "let", again, "go". 

His words flipped the switch inside your body and you felt yourself going, the blood already rushing to your head from the position you were in, and the pressure was pounding in your ears as you came, hard. "Oh my God!" You cried out as your walls clamped down around him, milking his hot seed to explode inside you. 

"That’s my girl, fuck!" He roared at the feel of you around him, and his hips grew sloppy as he came, grunting, pulling you back onto him as he let go of his thick payload. 

With your chests heaving, bodies stilled, his fingers still around your hips, his thumbs drew lazy circles on your back. You felt his blue gaze on you and you couldn't see it, but you knew he was smirking. 

“Paul.” You managed to swallow, “baby, my arms.”

“Oh, shit, yeah.” He moved gently to pull out of you, curling his arm around your waist in the nick of time as your elbows gave way and the pair of you tumbled rather ungracefully to the rug by the table in a tangle of limbs, your giggles ringing around the room, drowning out the sound of the television.

“You okay?” He asked gently, as you moved so you were lay on your back looking up at him as he lay on his side, propped on his left elbow. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear with his right hand as you nodded, leaning up to kiss him deeply.

“I’m not even gonna ask where you saw or read about that.” You chuckled and he grinned, glancing around the room cheekily before he looked down at you.

“Boys talk, sweetheart.” He shrugged. “But admit it, that was better than making me fold sheets.”

You chuckled as he pressed his lips to yours again, your fingers gently twisting his silver chain between them as you looked at him and arched your eyebrow. “If I admit it will you do it again? Only not tonight, don’t think my arms could take another round.”

Paul let out a laugh which rumbled in his chest and he pressed his lips to yours again. “Maybe we can make a game out of it, see how many other surfaces I can use to I prop your feet on and fuck you from behind.”

You scoffed, slapping at his arm as he grinned down at you cheekily, and you bit your lip.

“I can run with that.” Your hands moved so they slipped round his back, gently tracing shapes over the muscles, making them twitch a little and he sighed as your nails reached that spot on his neck that always turned him to putty in your hands.

“Stop, you know what that does to me.” He looked down at you.

“I do.” You agreed, continuing nonetheless.

“Seriously, you want more?”

“Well, like you said.” Your fingers curled round the nape of his neck, pulling his face down so it was inches from yours. “It’s been a while since we got time together, best make the most of it.”

“Oooh, you’re a bad, bad woman future Mrs Disco…” he smirked, kissing you deeply. “And I’m so down for that.”

****

It was late in the evening, the two of you having carried your sex-capades from the lounge to the bedroom, both of you spent and spooning in the aftermath of bliss when Paul's cell rang out. 

He grumbled and shifted slightly, turning to grab the offending item form the night stand before he answered, "Diskant."

You strained your ears to listen to who was on the other end but it wasn't audible.

"Yeah, okay, got it. I'll call you back," he replied and hung up. Then he quickly made an outgoing call. "Hey, so I just talked to Scribble. Freemont and Coates, or whoever they are, want to meet us." There was a brief pause, "tonight." Another pause and he closed his phone. 

He sighed, turning to you, "I got to go."

"Okay," you sat up, an uneasiness filling your veins. 

"I'll be back," he slipped out of bed, dressing quickly in black jeans, a black button down and hat. He clipped his badge from the nightstand to his belt after slipping into his uniform boots. Then leaned over and gave you a long, deep kiss. "I love you."

"I love you. Come home to me," you kissed him and pulled back, your fingers pressing the medallion of safe keeping against his chest. Paul touched his forehead to yours before he pressed his lips to your own in a soft kiss and headed out. You heard the door click as he left your apartment, and you gave a sigh, settling down into the bed, pulling his pillow to your naked chest as you closed your eyes. Whilst you knew that this was the job, hell, you’d done it yourself for long enough, it still never made it easier and for some inexplicable reason, tonight it made you even more twitchy than normal. But, that was more than likely down to the fact you’d managed to enjoy some quality time together tonight, and it had been so good.

Before long you drifted off to sleep, and you had no idea what time it was when the cordless rang, shrilling through the apartment, raising you from your slumber, but as you blinked yourself awake, it was still pitch black outside. 

"Hello," you croaked. 

"Y/N," you recognized the voice immediately, given your own happenings with IA. 

"Captain Biggs," you replied, suddenly fully awake as you sat up in bed, the covers clutched to your chest.

"It's Paul,” his voice was low and serious and instantly you felt a cold, icy dread floor your system from your head to your toes as he passed, taking a breath, “a unit is on its way for you."

***** Part 2

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ 𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕡𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 ~

Part III

© sailorhyunjinz 2021; Rights Reserved

All picture rights to their respective owners.

ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥: Photographer!Hyunjin x fem!model!reader, manager!Bangchan, stylist!Jisung, agedup!straykids, SMUT, fluff, character driven story, stranger to lovers, summer!au, soft!dom hyunjin x fem!reader, PIV, penetrative sex, protected sex (wow first time writing that, good on ya cher) sexual photos/pictures taken during sex, semi-public sex, orgasm (m/f), cum, fingering, blowjob, light choking, praise kink, handkink??

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 5.4 k

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: am so creative with the office numbers? right? tell me im creative LMAO

oh god this was a fucking pain in the ass to read through i cringed at every sentence so hopefully my pain will be your pleasure

Taking pictures of you - MASTERLIST

ONE｜TWO｜THREE

Unlike any other day you couldn’t get out of bed. A boulder of nervousness plaguing you. Through the cracks of the blinds the sun shined in, small particles of dust floating around your resting figure. You were wide awake yet you felt asleep, your thoughts consuming your mind as the dimly lit room became brighter as time ticked on.

You were thinking, perhaps overthinking. This whole situation with Hyunjin seemed confusing and happened way to fast, your psyche not having a moment to digest the events that unfolded during the last couple of days.

Love was a feeling you were familiar with. You knew how it felt. Those butterflies in ones stomach, fluttering everytime a thought of the person passes through your ones.

You felt the same feeling everytime you thought of Hyunjin.

How his soft lips would feel against your cheek that was hot from just looking at his beauty. How his blond hair falls in his face everytime he puts it into a ponytail, his silver decorated fingers tucking the stray pieces behind his pierced ear. These thoughts alone would make your heart beat faster than ever, you eyes clouding with lust even if you knew that this relationship would be impossible given the status the both of you have in this judging industry.

Pushing the covers aside, you sat up before slowly stepping out, your feet hitting the cold flooring of the apartment. You stretched your arms upwards, feeling your spine extend as you squinted, a ray of sunshine hitting you right in the eyes.

The boulder in your chest didn’t feel any lighter but you still got up, wanting time to fly by fast just so you could see his face once again.

♡

No amount of mindfulness exercises could calm the churning of your stomach. The clock in your living room ticked as you watched it with careful eyes, waiting for the time to hit precisely half past before you got up from the couch and shuffled over to the wardrobe, only being stopped from a pling on your phone.

[Bangchan] y/n! can you come by in about an hour? need to discuss some concept photos, sorry for such short notice ❤️

That’s when it hit you. Bangchan didn’t know anything about this. He didn’t know that you’d seen the photos from the shoot and most importantly that you went on a date with the photographer. You could only describe the feeling as ‘improper’. Bangchan was after all one of the closest people in your life, he made you to who you are today and lying to him felt wrong but you shielded your eyes from the truth as you typed back.

[y/n] soz, got plans

[Bangchan] I don’t see any other meeting scheduled for today?

[y/n] you do know that I have a life outside of work? take the day off Chan, you could use some rest ❤️

[Bangchan] Don’t worry about me! You have fun alright?

[y/n] alright, see you next week then ^^

You clicked on the off button on your phone, making the text messages disappear. Getting paranoid, you plopped down on the couch, thinking about every possible way you could get caught which you’d already been, photos of you and Hyunjin circulating throughout social media but they mustn’t have reached Bangchan just yet. You felt like digging a hole underground, wanting to hide away from all these thoughts. The main thought in your mind was whether or not you understood Hyunjin’s intentions. 

What if this love was one sided? 

Waveing your hand in the air, you attempted to get the mind out of your head as if you were breaking up a cloud of real thoughts. You glanced up at the clock and only then realised that you were running late, as usual.

“Wear whatever you want”

Was what Hyunjin said last time but that didn’t make it easier to choose an outfit. Standing infront of multiple racks of clothing you pulled up the weather application on your phone. “Sunny” you mumbled, making you gravitate towards a beige croptop with white stripes around the neckline as well as a white tennis skirt. Not too dressed up but not too dressed down either, just right. Clothes were flying everywhere when you searched for a pair of white socks to pair with your white high platform sneakers. You put the outfit on, observing yourself in the mirror and smiling, trying to get yourself in a better mood rather than being a nervous wreck. Pulling up your phone, you snapped a picture and sent it to the person who knew best about fashion. Jisung.

[y/n] Sungie! Is this acceptable for a impromptu photoshoot?

The fashionable boy replied minutes later.

[Jisung] oh!! that’s so cute! very much acceptable in my book 🥺

You smiled at his reply

[y/n] phew! good... 

[Jisung] is it a date?

Your fingers froze above the keyboard on the phone. Was it that noticeable? Was this really a date? 

[y/n] no!!!

[Jisung] you sure, i saw those photos on social media. ahh.. y/n dating famous photographers now...

By this point you were sweating bullets. 

[y/n] first of all, i’m not meeting him and second of all, he’s a friend so shut it. 

[Jisung] hahah alright alright... i won’t tell Bangchan

[y/n] you have nothing to tell!! we’re friends just like you and I so be quiet otherwise i’ll come over there with balloons, popping them in your face.

[Jisung] oh wow... im so scared...

[y/n] need to leave, if i hear something about you spreading some rumors i’ll seriously do it.

[Jisung] Photo Attachment.

The photo that popped up was from yesterday and your breath hitched. You couldn’t help but to notice the way Hyunjin was looking at you, his eyes filled what seemed like adoration. 

[Jisung] yeah because that totally doesn’t look like a date

[y/n] DON’T TELL BANGCHAN PLEASE

[Jisung] oh so it is a date? alright, i won’t! have fun and be safe

[y/n] be safe? we’re taking pictures, not drag racing

[Jisung] hahah stop playing innocent

Your eyes widened in realisation.

[y/n] you crazy fucker

[y/n] I WILL DESTROY YOUR ENTIRE WARDROBE IF YOU DON’T SHUT UP I DON’T SLEEP ON THE FIRST DATE

[Jisung] Whatever you say

Thanks to Jisung you were now running dangerously late leading to you snatching objects from all corners of the apartment before ordering a cab that would arrive in minutes.

♡

“We’ve arrived, miss” the cab driver says, smiling at you through the rear-view mirror. You thank him and step out of the yellow car, a smell of car exhaust hitting your nose. The cab drives away, leaving nothing but a small cloud of smoke. You looked up, almost not seeing the tip of the building as the skyscraper towered over you. You’re beside the busy road, mouth agape. You’d walked by a couple of times but knowing that you knew the person that owned at least a bit of the building made you giddy. 

You walked in and was greeted by a grand lobby, a front desk as big as the wall behind it. The entire place was filled with people, everyone from business men in suits to trainee models in the most flamboyant outfits. Fishnet stockings, heavy chains and distressed jeans that consisted of more air then jeans material. The sun shined through the many glass panes that made up most of the ceiling and the slight breeze of the air conditioner made this whole vibe of the building comforting. 

“Hi! y/n y/l/n, meeting Hwang Hyunjin” you say to the receptionist that was a relatively old woman, probably in her early 60′s. She was wearing a white button down shirt with her hair in a high bun, a couple of gray strands sticking out. Her red painted mouth contorted into a smile. 

“y/n, Hyunjin said that you could make your way to his office without the guards. You must be a close friend” 

You smiled shyly with your warm cheeks, looking at either side of the desk where two tall buff men were standing, wearing walkie talkies on their black vests. With a small nod, you started speaking. 

“W-where exactly is his office?”

“Floor 20, his main office is in room 03″

“Thank you!” 

You quickly shuffled over to the elevators, pushing the button that lit up with orange light emitting. 

PLING

The doors to the elevator opened and you stepped inside, a couple of office workers joining you and pressing the necessary buttons to make the elevator lift off. 

You step out at the 20th floor, looking around at all the intricate wall design, everything inspired by ancient greece which explains the broken vases that were scattered across the hallway in the most unconventional places. They were all encapsulated with glass and standing on tall white pillars, the vases looking rather sad, being in a spectra of ashy grey colors, every single one of them falling apart. 

Stopping, you observed this one vase that caught your attention. It had swirly details around the edge and was shattered in a rather beautiful way. It made you think how even the most broken pieces still carry beauty, beauty unique to only oneself. 

“It’s pretty right?”

The voice sounded familiar and warm, almost as if it had anticipated your arrival. 

“y-yeah, it really is” 

You say turning around, nearly jumping up on the wall when seeing the figure that looked back at you. It was Hyunjin.

Yet again, his presence was astonishing. Everytime you met him it felt as if you’d met him for the first time. The blond boy was standing tall in front of you, wearing a black hoodie, black basketball shorts and a matching headband. A backpack was thrown across his one shoulder and a smaller camera around his neck, everything about his appearence looking completely different from the last time you saw him, his style usually more sophisticated. 

“On your way to meet me, yeah?” he asked and you nodded shyly. 

“My office is the other way, you know?”

You lifted your gaze to look at the tiny sign on the wall that pointed in two directions, you were walking down the hallway for offices 20-40 by accident and you smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of your head. 

“I didn’t know heh...” 

“It’s alright! Come with me, I was on my way to the studio”

“What room is that? Your office?”

“No, the room next to my office, come! I’ll show you!”

He grabbed your hand and you felt your body stiffen as he dragged you down the hallway, his hand not being decorated with statement rings this time, instead feeling soft and warm. You blanked out, your legs walking by themselves. 

He stopped at a brown door, a tiny gold sign saying « 04 » and beside it a transparent sign stating that this was a photography studio. Hyunjin opened the door and dragged you in, closing the door behind you.

A cold wind hit your warm body, the air conditioner blasting it’s breeze with a faint sound. The room was wide, one wall being made completely out of glass, stand close enough and you could peer down the bustling city filled with people, cars and buildings. The typical photoshoot setup was already in place, the camera being propped up infront of a white backdrop, a white pilar in the middle and two boxlights standing unlit behind the camera. In the corner stood a vintage brown leather couch, the swirly metal details were concealed with a layer of chipped gold paint. Beside the couch stood a simple white table. A black bucket rested on the floor and upon closer inspection you noticed plants, multiple stems of eucalyptus poking out, wrapped in cellophane.

“What are these for?” 

You sat down on your knees infront of the bucket while Hyunjin was pressing buttons on the camera that was screwed onto the tripod before walking over to the table and placing down the camera he had around his neck, his backpack lying lazily on the floor. He looked at your crouching figure, the corners of his lips going upwards.

“I thought they’d suit you”

You held in one of the stems, turning your head and looking at his shy smile, his dimples sitting playfully on the sides of his cheeks. You giggle, standing up and leaning against the white pillar, holding the plant in your both hands. 

“Do they?”

Hyunjin walked towards the steadied camera, bending down and peeking through the lens.

“They do”

click

Your eyes widen, him snapping a picture without you paying attention.

“Hey! I wasn’t even prepared!” you chuckle, pointing at the blonde boy with the long plant that was dripping at the stem. 

“Nature is a bit more beautiful when caught off guard, don’t you think?” Hyunjin says, his honey-like voice, echoing through the room.

You nod, staring down at the leafs of the plant, rubbing them between your thumb and pointer finger. 

click

click 

click

“Try leaning with your butt against the pillar and with one foot fully on the side of the pillar”

You did as he told, the pillar being surprisingly stable.

“Tilt your head and look down to the right”

Once again, you follow his instruction and he hums in satisfaction before pushing the button on the camera twice.

click

click

Your warm face turned into a smile, laughing loudly from embarrassment when he observed the pictures on his display. He snickers quietly from shyness, a faint blush brushing across his features as his brown eyes were glued to the screen. Hyunjin peeks up from the camera, seeing you looking down at the backdrop that was filled with ashy grey shoeprints. 

The sound of his footsteps got closer until you saw them in your periferal view causing you to look up at his tentative face. He smiles, displaying his pearly white teeth and crescent shaped eyes before stretching his hand out, feather light fingertips grazing your hot cheek as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, your dainty gold earrings now visible. Hyunjin’s hand lingers on your jaw as he looks at you with a gleam in his eyes, you gulping loudly as your gaze lowers to his pouty pink lips. Leaning forward, Hyunjin tilts his head, attaching his lips onto yours, your heart skipping a beat from the comforting feeling of having him close to you. 

You drop the fragile twig on the floor, kissing him back by pursing your lips and tilting your head as well. The romantic tension that has been bubbling on the surface everytime you met had finally subsided, now the air overflowed sexual tension. 

Cupping his blushed cheeks, you deepen the kiss my licking his plump bottom lip, coaxing his tongue that eventually slipped into your mouth. His hands were firmly planted on your waist, pulling you closer to his body that radiated heat in the already scorching summer weather. 

The two tongues danced around in a impatient manner, the two of you dreaming of this moment since meeting. Hyunjin’s hands roamed over all the valleys of your body, placing his hands on the bottom of your butt, pulling you even closer, close enough to feel his semi-erection against your abdomen. Your eyes spring open in realisation, your body melting in his arms as you felt the effects of the deep kiss, the effects being you unable to control the wet patch that was forming on your underwear, nothing but the thin fabric seperating it from the air due to you wearing a skirt. 

Pulling away from the kiss, your hot breath and a line of saliva was the only thing that seperated you and Hyunjin. You shielded your face from his twinkling eyes, you glancing at the blonde boy through the gaps between your fingers. His two hands grip your wrists, pulling your hands down as he smiles widely

“Don’t hide that pretty face”

Hyunjin giggles, your chuckles following shortly after. The boy grips your wrist tightly, walking backwards as he looks intensely into your eyes, his back falling against the couch as you sit down on the couch on your knees, he looks at you for a moment before attaching his lips again, pushing you down and hovering above you. The wet sounds of the sloppy kiss fills your ear, you helplessly rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. His fingertips trailed down your chest, tracing small circles on the inside of your thigh before plunging down under your skirt, grazing the wet spot on your underwear. The both of you smile into the kiss. 

“Can I?” Hyunjin says, momentarily pulling away from your sweet lips and tugging on the edge of your panties. You nod shyly, not believing that this is happening. 

His lanky fingers run up and down your wet folds as you put your hand at the back of his neck, pulling his blushing face closer to yours and pursing your lips to kiss him sensually. Hyunjin’s fingers gently brush up against your clit that was swollen from excitement, sending shivers down your spine. 

You knew this was wrong, the door wasn’t even locked meaning that anyone could walk in at any moment but the way lips felt on yours made a thousand fireworks ignite, sparking from your chest. Wrapping your hand around his wide wrist, you guide his fingers down to your sopping entrace, your entire body craving him inside of you.

Hyunjin places once last peck on your soft lips before looking at you with concern, asking for permission with his fluffy brown eyes. You nod, your eyelashes gently fluttering over your eyes. His middle finger slips into you with ease, shortly followed by a second finger from seeing how good your cunt swallowed his digits, your essence coating them. A faint gasp escapes your lips as his fingers felt around your velvety walls, the whole situation still feeling like a dream. 

“D-does it feel good?” 

“mhm!” you hum, nodding your head as your grasp around his wrist tightens everytime he curls his fingers upwards. Small whimpers came from you as his fingers started pumping in and out, the blond boy chuckling at your reaction. 

“Did you think I was innocent?” 

The question lingers in the air as you look at him in the eyes.

“Y-yes,,,” just as the question you let the answer hang in the air as Hyunjin hummed, being knuckles deep into you and curling his fingers upwards once more, making you choke on your own moan. Hyunjin nodded slowly, glancing down at your body as he thought.

“It’s because,,, because you’re shy,, different from the others.” You added quickly, filling the silence that was soon interupted by your whimpers as the so called ‘innocent boy’ started circling your sensitive bud with his thumb. 

“I think you’re different from the others, you make me like this baby”

Hyunjin said, seconds later crashing his lips against yours, his tongue attacking yours. He retracted his fingers, the tips coated in your juices and glistening in the sunlight. You whined inbetween kisses, the feeling of being empty leaving you disappointed. Hyunjin’s veiny hands trailed up your stomach, pulling the croptop up and resting it just above your boobs, your white bra exposed. 

Hyunjin pulled away from the kiss, the both of you breathless as the kisses you exchanged were anything but light. His two damp fingers made their way to his mouth, licking them with a slight smirk on his lips. You could go crazy from the sight alone, his big brown eyes turning blank with lust. Not being able to control yourself any longer, you sat up on your knees and pulled off the top, unclasping your bra while you’re at it. As the fabric hit the floor, Hyunjin’s eyes darted to your bare tits, the wind from the air conditioner stiffening your two sensitive buds. You looked at him with a jumbled expression, him staring at your nipples for what seemed like an eternity. You hummed softly, causing him to snap back into reality, the blond boy pulling the black hoodie up from his head, displaying the defined muscles on his abdomen. You wanted him, you wanted him so bad. 

Your knees hit the floor with a thump as looked up at Hyunjin, knealing between his two legs and watching the tent in his loose shorts grow. 

“Do you really want to do this,, y/n,, you don’t have t-”

You hushed before speaking.

“Don’t worry, Hyunjin” you say with a stern voice making Hyunjin shiver, not knowing if it’s from your tone of voice or the way his name rolled of your tongue.

The blonde boy grabbed the small camera that was resting on the table, you looked up at him with confusion before smiling at his pleading eyes that met yours. You nodded, knowing exactly what he wanted to do and giving him permission since you never knew if he’d get to see you like this ever again. 

You hook your two hands on the sides of his shorts and underwear, pulling the fabric down as Hyunjin awkwardly lifts his hips up from the couch for a moment, allowing you to slide the both garments down in one nimble motion. His veiny length sprung out, the tip hitting his abdomen for a moment before resting infront of your eyes, a bead of precum already leaking from his delicate slit. You gulp, the task of sucking him off suddenly seeming daunting. Hyunjin must have noticed since his face turned concerned, a half smile flashing across his lips. 

“y/n,, you don’t have to-aghh!”

Hyunjin was cut of by his own breathy moan, your pursed lips wrapping around his leaking tip, licking small kitten licks before sinking deeper down his impressive length. Hyunjin’s blonde hair fell out of his face when his head rolled back in pleasure, resting it against the back of the rustic couch. 

“f-fuck y/n,,, just- just like that”

He hummed out, his sweet voice intoxicated with desire. Your tongue swirled around his pretty red tip, simultaneously stroking the part doesn’t fit inside of your wet mouth. Multiple shutters of the camera was heard, his hand barely stable enough to hold it due to the pleasure that was shooting through his core. It didn’t take long before his dick twitched against you lips, your cheeks hollowed as bob up and down his girth. His eyes rolled back into his skull as his hand went down to cup your cheek, your eyes stinging with tears as you choked around him. Pulling off with a pop, his dick glimmered as a heavy layer of saliva rested on it, his already warm body turning hotter. He looks down at you, a smug half-smile errupting on his lips as he continued to stroke your cheek, his thumb grazing your cheekbone as he flicked through the photos on his camera, the half-smile now a full on expression of happiness. The two of you sat like that for a while, the silence engulfing the room as you observed his indescribable features. His sharp jawline contrasted with his soft skin that had a dust of rose pink across the cheeks, his moles adding to his charm. 

“Fuck me, Hyunjin”

The words slipped out of your mouth, his brown shiny eyes widening before being overtaken by a blank gaze, placing the silver camera back on the tiny table. 

“You thought I would stop here?”

Now it was your turn to be flustered, his sugary sweet voice interlaced with the cocky words making you even wetter then before, if that’s even possible. Without answering, he pulled you up to the couch by your hand and laying you down before realising what he forgot. The blond boy reached for the baggy backpack laying on the white floor, unzipping the front pocket and fishing out a condom. You nodded shyly, feeling your hands getting sweatier from nervousness, not really sure where to put them. Hyunjin noticed your gaze that was running all over the room, your body slightly tense. The boy snickered, ripping the shiny wrapping open with his hands where veins had started to become apparent. 

“Something wrong?” He asks shyly, placing the condom on his leaking tip before rolling the rubber onto his length. You shake your head.

“J-just thinking,,,” you say, your voice fading out at the end. 

“About?” His voice inhibiting a questionable tone as he holds himself up above you, his elbows on either side of your head. 

“A-about,,, you” 

That was a lie. You thought about how this would end up being disclosed to your company and your friends, Felix would snap your head if he found out that you slept with Hyunjin. Did it even have to be disclosed? Couldn’t it just be a secret between you and Hyunjin? As much as you wish that it could, it simply couldn’t. Not working in this industry. 

Hyunjin smiled softly, his hand trailing down the curves of your body before lifting up the fabric of your skirt, his fingers pushing your panties aside and feeling your throbbing pussy once again. His caramel eyes looked into you the entire time. 

Lifting himself up, he positioned the tip of his member at your sopping entrance, you chuckling softly as he gripped your hips but your chuckle was quickly replaced by a loud gasp, his dick stretching out your tight pussy better than you thought. 

“Are you ok, y/n?” 

He said softly, his dick not even halfway in but already jerking from your welcomingly wet and warm cunt wrapping around his crimson tip. You nodded, looking up at him. 

“Pl-please,, keep going Hyunjin”

The blonde boy blushed, his ears turning red. Tightening the grip on your hips he fully entered you, you shutting your eyes tightly from the slightly painful but pleasurable experience. Glancing down at you, he had to use every bit of discipline to not pound into you. In his eyes you looked angelic. Your parted lips that we’re coated by saliva and the way your skirt bunched up around your waist made it feel like torture to be inside of you, not moving to let you adjust to his size. 

“C-can I move?” He asks impatiently to which you smile, nodding and wrapping your legs around him, pulling him closer to your warm body. Your breath hitched as he softly wraps his hand around your neck, him thinking he’d gone too far.

“I-im sorry! I-” 

You hush him, placing your index finger over his plush pink lips. 

“I’ll tell you if anything doesn’t feel good, alright?” You so desperatly wanted to place a “baby” at the end of the sentence, that nickname fitted him but being to scared to confess your feelings. Just because he wants you doesnt mean he loves you. Hyunjin nodded like an excited puppy, finally getting the permission of moving and feeling your clenched walls around his length, his one hand still wrapped around your throat. 

His thrusts were slow, filled with passion which only worsened your longing for him, the longing of him being yours. Small whimpers dripped from between your parted lips, the moans being mixed with Hyunjin’s low grunts and sounding like a melody. You peeked up at the model-like boy, his expression being synonymous to pleasure. The movements eventually quickened, his long cock hitting your cervix with every thrust, making you put your hands behind his back, your fingernails digging into his soft honey skin. His previously closed eyes fluttered open, watching you with a soft gaze through his fierce eyes. You smiled and he smiled back before his gaze drifted away from yours.

“Y-you feel so good y-y/n,,, you’re an angel”

Chuckling and moaning at the same time, his praise gave you a sense of security but also a sense of lust, wanting to coax out even more dangerously sweet words from his pretty mouth. 

“Go faster,,, Hyunjin”

You gasped out, the pleasure starting to pick up it’s pace. The sound of skin slapping against each other bounced off the white walls in the big studio, the old sofa creaking ever so often from the blond boys powerful thrusts. Hyunjin would never get tired of hearing you say his name, never. 

The knot in your stomach signaled your impending orgasm as your walls were stretched out. You pleaded him to not stop, your voice sounding frail as you neared your sweet release. The hot tempeture wasn’t helping the situation, sweat beading underneath Hyunjins headband, soaking the two strands of blonde locks that hanged infront of his face. 

“F-fuck,, y/n you’re so pretty with my hands wrapped around your throat, fuck-” 

A loud groan escaped his lips, the pleasure of your wet pussy against his rock-hard length getting too much, Hyunjin having to hold back until you came, not wanting to appear selfish. It wasn’t long until you felt your legs shaking around him, your toes curling as the squeaky sound from the couch increased along with the speed of Hyunjin’s thrusts, the rubber not giving him as much intimacy as he would have liked but the visual of you lying beneath him, squirming away from bliss and softly moaning made up for it. 

“I think- i think I’m cumming, s-shit Hyunjin, I’m cumming”

The words spilled from you, quickly followed by a incoherent mumbling of his name before a wave of hot flashed through your entire body, your walls clenching around him as your erotic juices coated his twitching cock. You held your hands against your face that was lightly coated with sweat but before you could come down from your high Hyunjin pinned your hands above your head by your wrists, him letting out a growl before his cum filled the tip of the condom. The both of you rode out your powerful orgasm, your moans softening as the intense feeling subsided, Hyunjin shivering with his last thrust before pulling out. 

The light sound of the air conditioner was now accompanied with heavy panting, your chest heaving as Hyunjin softly pulled down your skirt and ran his hand through his blonde hair, pushing the stray hairs away before rolling off the cumfilled condom and throwing it on the floor, the rubber landing on the dark clothing that were pooling next to the leather couch. The young boy lays down beside you, your eyes fixed on the ceiling as you faded away in a million thoughts, still trying to process what just happened. You turned your head against his, feeling his lingering gaze on your face and you swore you could hear your heart beat in your ears as his cheekbones lifted, his now cherry red lips turning into a soft smile. 

“Do you like me?” 

You choked on your own saliva, coughing and sitting up in panic making Hyunjin worry, him patting you on the back as he sat up next to you. 

“I-im sorry,, I shouldn’t have- y/n,, so-sorry”

He mutters out as you start laughing, he looking confused at your chuckling figure. 

“T-that’s,,, quite the direct question” you say, clearing your throat before continuing. “I don’t know Hyunjin. You know that this isn’t possible”

You saw his previously twinkling eyes turn blank, his heart sinking. 

“Uhm,,, n-no totally not,,, I just said it to-”

He tried to play cool, brushing off the fact that he didn’t get the answer he so longed for. His gaze turning away from your angelic face.

“But I like you”

You spoke quietly, your voice cracking at the end. Hyunjin turned back to you.

“Why wouldn’t it work then?” he asked with a confused voice. You sighed

“Hyunjin, do you not know who you are? We fucked in a building where you own half of the rights, you work with famous people and your work is in every magazine, don’t you understand?”

He stayed silent for a while, comtemplating on what to say before grabbing your clammy hand. 

“Do you only see me for my career?”

You shake your head, trying to catch eye contact with the blonde boy but failing as he stares down at your small hand in his grasp. 

“Hyunjin, I love you but this feels way to quick,,, I can’t just-”

“I’ve known about you for a while, y/n. Do you know why we even worked together in the first place?” 

Hyunjin speaks calmly, a thin string of sadness threading through his voice. You shake your head, looking at him but he looking away.

“I reached out to Bangchan first”

You weren’t surprised, only confused. What did he see in you? 

“I know it might seem,, rushed! But if- if we both like each other then we can make it work. Please don’t worry about our reputations, you are more than your career y/n even if it means the world to you.”

Hyunjin hesitated finishing his sentence, feeling sick to his stomach from the fear of rejection. You withdrew your hand, instead opening your arms and hugging him to which he smiled and hugged you back, the both of you falling back on the couch facing each other. 

“I think I love you,,, like,,, I really love you”

Hyunjin brushed away a strand of hair from your face, his tender eyes meeting yours. 

“And I love you too, y/n”

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

@vogueinnie​ @that-anxious-bisexual @putmetogetheragain13 @hyunsluvv @lawleighette​ @meow-minho @minaamhh @ohmysparkle @hwangi @rindomo @fleeingreality​​​​​​​ @nycol-ie @jisungsplatforms @p0t4t0don14ll @skzstanlol

[sinner-as-saint]

Daddy’s Little Pet.

Steve Rogers x Reader

Run-through: You and Steve are the epitome of ‘opposites attract’. He is the American hero, a super soldier who is known for his bravery, and righteousness and for being the one leading the Avengers. You, on the other hand, are a well-known fashion designer in the city. Creator and owner of your own brand, and elite boutique. At first glance, it doesn’t seem like you and Steve would be compatible. But you surprisingly are. And behind closed doors, in secrecy – you two are each other’s solace, each other’s definition of home. He’s your strong, loving and caring man. And you, his lovely, little pet whom he adores more than life itself.

Themes: daddy kink, slight pet play (nicknames only), smut, fluff, age gap

a/n: if you’re not comfortable with any of the themes mentioned above, it’s really simple – don’t read this.

You sighed in delight once you slid into the backseat of your car.

Your driver began driving at once. You smiled at the thought of finally being able to relish in the comforts of your home after a long day. Today had been exceptionally tiring. First, you felt a little low, creatively. Then, you received a call from one of your boutique managers. One of your staff members called to let you know that one of your regular clients was acting up and being picky and causing a ruckus.

So you had to leave your office and all your unfinished projects and drive to your boutique where you handled the situation, thankfully.

You grimaced at the thought of the stuck up client you had to deal with today. Ugh, snobbish rich people… You were glad you were nothing like those who think that just because they have money, the world revolves around them.

You were extremely well-off yourself, but you kept yourself grounded instead of flaunting your fortune constantly. You agreed, you did indeed make much, much more money than others your age but you also worked your ass off for that. The fashion industry is a lot more hectic and competitive than it seems. And being the creator and owner of your own elite fashion brand was no joke, it was a lot of hard work and resilience.

Most people thought that you were simply living the dream life; fashion shows, elegant boutiques, and a large bank account. But they didn’t see the stress, the hard work, the tears and the pressure of having to constantly be creative and managing all your staff and your teams. Work took a toll on you often.

But that’s when you knew you could always rely on your loving boyfriend to make you feel better. Steve. The world knew him as the famous super soldier, the man out of time, leader of the Avengers, Captain America. But to you, he was the best partner you could ask for.

You felt giddy already, just thinking of being in his loving, strong arms later tonight. You checked your phone to see if there’s any messages from him. He texted you all day, and his last text said that he would be a little more late than usual.

You frowned, but got over it. His work was important for him, and everyone else. Besides, that would give you an hour or two to spend in the gym while you wait for him to come home it seems. And you really needed to let all that work stress out somehow. Normally you would prefer Steve getting it out of your system by fucking you into your mattress, but it seems that a nice work out session will have to do today.

 You got home, got changed then made your way to your well-furnished indoor gym. You were never an athletic person. You got the gym installed when Steve moved into your mansion. Then over time, you found yourself using it as well. And you hated to admit it, but it made you feel healthier.

An hour and a half later, you took your sweaty self into the shower and took a long, warm shower. You could sense yourself starting to feel a lot lighter than earlier. You were excited to just order diner and slip into one of your many onesies and watch a movie while you wait for Steve.

You giggled to yourself under the shower. That sounds like an amazing plan after a long day of feeling not so creative and dealing with rude clients.

And you did just that. You placed an order for some of yours and Steve’s favorites, then you went and skimmed through the countless, comfy onesie PJs in your closet. You chose the soft, brown, fluffy bear one with cute ears on the hood, and lots of little bear faces scattered all across it. Onesies were the comfiest thing in the world, and you would fight anyone who said any different. You slipped it on, closed the zipper and walked out of your grand closet.

You grabbed Sir Biscuit – your favorite teddy which you had since your childhood and grabbed your computer and plopped into your large, comfy bed. You put Harry Potter on. “Now we wait for my darling boyfriend, Biscuit.” You snuggled your teddy and watched your movie without a care in the world.

Steve would be here soon, and he’d take care of you. And you wouldn’t have to worry about a single thing. You were quite the control freak in your professional life, so it felt liberating to just not have to carry the burden of control while Steve was around. Plus, he was the love of your life. And there’s nothing you enjoyed more than being carefree in his arms.

Not even half an hour later, around 7.30 p.m. you heard the alarm beep; signaling that someone had entered your gated property. You smiled brightly as you waited impatiently for him. Minutes later, you heard the alarm again, signaling that someone was in through the front door.

And then you heard his voice. “Babe, I’m home.” He called out. And you jumped out of bed, ran down the hallway and down the stairs, crossed the living room and rushed into Steve’s open arms.

He was standing by the foyer, waiting for you to run into his arms like you did almost every day.

“Stevie!” you squealed. He laughed as you tried your hardest to hug him as tightly as you could. He wasn’t dressed in his tactical, navy suit today given he wasn’t out on a mission, but simply sat through briefing and planning for future missions all day.

The black leather jacket he wore smelt familiar and comforting. It smelt like him. You snuggled up to him, rubbing your face into his chest. He chuckled, his laughter rumbling in his chest right under your ear. “Hello kitten, you missed me?” he asked, giving you a kiss on top of your head.

You smiled and looked up at him, and with just one look into his ocean blue eyes, you forgot all the worries you had. “I did.” You whispered. His heart did its little happy dance as he took in your appearance. You looked so pretty he could cry.

He playfully gasped. “Wait a minute.” He held you at arms’ length and scanned you head to toe. “You’re not a kitten today, are you?” his words made you laugh and so did the fake shocked expression on his face. “You’re a fluffy, little bear!” he pulled you closer and attacked your face with a lots of loud, open mouth kisses, always the affectionate man he is. “Hi little bear!”

You giggled, playfully pushing him away. He walked the two of you backwards into the living room, then he stopped assaulting you with kisses and just held you in his arms. “I missed you so much.” You mumbled into his chest.

He felt bad because it was true and he missed you too. “I know,” he cooed. “I know I have been coming home late every day this week.” He held your chin and leaned in for a sweet kiss. “But I will make it up to you, okay? How about we have a little getaway this weekend, huh? Just me and my lovely girlfriend, yes?” He gave you a big smooch on the lips. “Would you like that?” he asked, and you got visibly excited.

Oh yes, you terribly needed a little vacay!

You nodded frantically, Steve chuckled and held your hand as you two walked back upstairs into your shared bedroom. “Now,” he sat you down on the edge of the bed. “Let me shower real quick, I’ll be back before you know it.”  

You nodded, pouting just a little that he was leaving you alone again. Then again, he needed a shower to relax as well, so you agreed without being too much of a brat. You watched your movie until Steve emerged from the bathroom again, with just dark grey sweatpants on.

You almost drooled a little when you watched him move around, putting his towel in the laundry basket and what not. His muscles flexed deliciously and the ratio of his broad shoulder to his lean waist made you tingly in specific places. You clenched your thighs together until his calming blue eyes met yours again.

You couldn’t help but pout and extended your arms out in front of you. He purposely just stood there and watched you for a moment. You were truly the light of his life. Sometimes, like right now, he was torn between wanting to be balls deep in you and fuck you until you forgot your own name or wanting to have you on his lap and make you giggle with his terrible jokes as you tell him about your day.

He gave in immediately. He walked over to you and slid beside you in bed, wrapping his muscular arms around your warm body.

You instantly melted once you were in his arms. And before he could say anything, he felt your warm mouth latching onto his skin. He thought it was just a kiss but then he felt you starting to suck on the skin at the side of his throat and nibbling on it. And as much as he enjoyed your touch, he had to pull away.

He looked down at you sternly, “Hey,” his voice a little more serious than earlier, “what did we say about biting and leaving marks on visible places?” he chided playfully, reminding you that he loved it when you left your marks all over him, just not in places where the rest of the team could see.

Your relationship was no secret, but he still preferred not to show up at work with love bites all over him.

You whined and hid your face into his bare chest. “Sorry, Stevie.” You whined. He smiled, stroking your hair and kissing the top of your head.

“It’s okay, my little pet.” He cradled your head, already playing to the mood you were in. “You bite on your teddy rather than me.” he patted the spot on the bed next to you but couldn’t feel your plush toy under the covers. He checked the other side and still couldn’t find it. “Oh no, little bear.” He sounded so concerned. “We lost your teddy.” He fake gasped.

You giggled and reached down under the covers and pulled it out. “It’s right here.” You said. He watched the teddy. One moment it was in your grasp, and the next you tossed it far away on the bed. Steve looked down at you, confused.

“You don’t want him, baby?” he asked. You shook your head no. “What do you want then?” he asked again. You still shook your head no. He tilted his head to the side and look at you.

You got out of the blankets and got on top of him. He smiled as you straddled his thighs and made yourself comfortable on his lap. You leaned in to give him a loud, open mouth kiss on his lips. You slid your body further down his legs and smiled innocently at him.

“What do you want, you little troublemaker?” he asked, knowing damn well what you wanted. He just liked hearing you say it.

You palmed him through his sweatpants. “I want you.” He was hard already, you could feel it. Steve looked enamored. The look in your eyes reminded him of the first night he met you; the most elegant, poised and gorgeous woman he had ever seen.

Oh babygirl… Steve smiled at you and leaned back, making himself comfortable in your bed. “You want daddy’s cock, huh?” he asked, and watched your face light up as you bent down and pressed an innocent kiss to his clothed erection then looked up at him and nodded excitedly.

He chuckled. “Go on, babygirl. Make daddy feel good.” He leaned against the headboard and watched you as you took your time and kissed every inch his clothed erection. Your hands lazily lowered the waistband of his sweats and his underwear to free his erected cock. Then again, you kissed your way up and down his erected cock. You circled your tongue around his tip and he groaned quietly. You giggled, knowing the effect you had on him. You wrapped your hand around his cock and placed your mouth on his tip. Steve grunted and held your head gently and slowly pushed himself deeper into your mouth.

You took him in inch by inch until he hit the back of your throat. “Relax your throat, baby.” He spoke softly as he pushed himself into your mouth entirely. He twitched against your tongue as you hollowed your cheeks and bobbed your head around him, and you tasted some of his pre cum trickling down your throat.

You took him out of your mouth and licked his cock from bottom to top while your hands toyed with his balls. He swore under his breath as you dragged your tongue over the slit on his tip very lazily. He looked down at you with a smirk on his face. “Don’t tease me, babygirl.” He cooed, stroking your hair and moving it out of your face.

You looked up at him and giggled, you took him back into your mouth and sucked on his cock until he began gently thrusting his hips up and pushing his cock further into your mouth. He loved the sight of your spit coating his cock, and your lips wrapped around him. The gasps and moans which escaped his lips made you squirm and added to the dampness which was forming in your underwear. His words had the same effects on you.

“Fuck… you’re such a good girl, aren’t you baby?” he bit his lip and threw his head back as you took all of him in your warm mouth. “That’s it kitten, keep going…fuck,” he was falling apart hard and fast.

He hissed and moaned loudly, shamelessly as he felt himself coming undone. You took him out of your mouth and circled your tongue around his tip rapidly until he came all over your mouth. He gasped and swore under his breath as he came. Unfortunately, you weren’t able to catch all of his cum in your mouth. Some it trickled down your chin, your neck and even got on your soft PJs.

Steve looked down at you and chuckled at how you were covered in his cum. “Look at you, you’re all messy, baby.” He stroked your hair and watched you stick your tongue out and lick him clean, gathering as much of his cum as you could. “You’ve got cum all over you, haven’t you?” he sat up straighter once you licked him clean and pulled his underwear and sweatpants up again. He tilted your head up so you look at him. “Seems like I need to change you now, huh?” he asked, knowing you would just lay there like a lazy person and let him to it because as your boyfriend, it’s his duty – your words, not his.

You bit your lip and nodded, smirking just a little. Oh yes!

 He had you lay down on your back, legs dangling at the edge of your bed as he carefully got you out of your soiled onesie and cleaned you with a wet cloth. Halfway through cleaning you, he left to go get your favorite body lotion. “You didn’t put lotion on after your shower today, did you?” he asked.

“Nope!” you answered, getting all excited because you loved it when he applied lotion on you, and you knew you’d also get a nice massage out of it. “I was waiting for you to do it for me.” You answered truthfully.

He chuckled, looking down at your bare body, then grabbed the lotion bottle and squirted some on his hand and smeared it all over the palms of his hand. “Can’t do anything without my help, can you?” he started at your shoulders and rubbed his hands all over your arms and chest. “Daddy has to do everything for you, doesn’t he?” he asked again, massaging down your sides and over your stomach.

You giggled and nodded. He smiled down at you and leaned down to give you a brief kiss right on your bellybutton. “It’s okay baby, I love to take care of you.” Steve meant what he said. He took his time and massaged your body, playfully teasing you and touching you in all the right places. Once satisfied, he had you turn around so he could give your back the same attention.

He kissed your butt while he was at it. And his large hands felt so good on your body that you were humming and moaning in no time. He could see you desperately, discretely move your hips against nothing, and he purposely stopped just when you began to get excited.

He heard you whine under your breath. You turned back around and faced him. He leaned down to kiss your lips and mumbled, “You smell so good, baby.” He kissed his way down your neck and all the way down your stomach and stopped right above your core. You whined again when you saw the mischievous look in his eyes. “Now tell me, which PJs do you want today?”

You took a moment to think about it, then answered, “The kitten one.” It was another favorite of yours. Steve nodded and went to go get it from your closet which almost resembled a store in itself. He shook his head, smiling at the amount of shoes and clothes and jewelry you had. He found the onesie and brought it back to where you were, waiting for him patiently.

Steve began putting the PJs on you, and once he was done he realized his mistake. “Uh, baby?” he called out, fixing the hood and the ears of the onesie. You looked at him and waited. “I made a mistake. I accidentally grabbed the puppy one.” He said and you looked down and giggled at the many paws prints on the onesie. He sighed and kissed your forehead. “But it’s okay, now you’re a little puppy!” he gave you another loud kiss on the cheek. “And you’re the cutest puppy I’ve ever seen!”

You laughed and sat up again, folding your legs under you. “It’s okay Stevie, old men make mistakes all the time.” You said, playfully. It was this on-going joke between the two of you, regarding Steve’s age.

He rolled his eyes at you, “Yeah you think?” he grabbed you and pulled you close again, tickling you until you laughed and thrashed around like a mad woman. He let you go only after you apologized, breathlessly.

“I’m sorry, Stevie! Please!” you spoke through giggles and he finally stopped.

“Come here, baby.” He plopped down on the bed and pulled you to his side. You immediately snuggled up to him and lifted one of your legs up to place it over his thighs. He wrapped his arms around you and gave you a kiss on the forehead.

You pushed your face into his chest and held on tightly to him. You had a smile on your face just thinking about how much happier you were with him in your life. You were a completely different woman before you met Steve. But now, you were just happier.

“Tell me about your day, babe.” he asked, after a while of just playing with your hair and breathing in your sweet scent. You smelt of strawberries and lily of the valley and it was Steve’s favorite scent in the whole world. He wondered at times, about how lost he would be if he didn’t find you when he did. You were the best thing in his life, in more than one ways, you definitely made his life worth living.

“Hmm,” you rubbed your face against his chest then looked up at him. “Same old, boring. I wasn’t feeling too creative today. Then a lady was being rude to my staff so I had to drive to the boutique and calm her down. People can be so snobbish sometimes, it’s crazy.” You paused and looked up at Steve, he looked really interested in the drama. “But then she bought a couple of my bags and an expensive evening gown so I made a lot of money.” You beamed at him.

He chuckled. Your days were always so much more interesting than his. “That’s good, you deserve it. You work so hard, I know.” he kissed the top of your head and secured his arms around you.

Then you asked him about his day. And he told you the same thing he always did. Meeting, mission plans, trying to get Bucky and Sam not to kill each other while arguing over every little thing. “We went over our plans for the next mission.” He talked about his day, “And then I missed my baby and I couldn’t wait to come home to her.” He spoke, leaning down to kiss your face again.

You giggled. “I’m right here.” You looked up and gave him a kiss on his neck and snuggled closer to him.

Steve tightened his grip around you. “I know you are, babe. You’re the best part of my day.” He whispered against the top of your head.

You two cuddled for a while, just relishing each other’s touch. Steve ran a soothing hand you’re your back and occasionally looked down at you, carefree in his arms. He would smile and kiss the top of your head each time you murmured or scooted closer to his body.

He spoke up after a while, “I’m hungry.” he waited for you to look up at him.

“I ordered food.” You let him know.

He smiled and caressed your cheek. “I know, baby. I saw you got my favorite dessert as well.” He looked down at you with a familiar look in his eyes. A playful look you knew all too well. “But daddy wants something sweeter.” He added.

You seemed a little confused, although the tone of his voice did hint at how he was definitely up to no good. “Like chocolate or candy?” you asked.

He chuckled. “No, sweeter than that.” He leaned down closer to your ear. “Know what it is?” he asked. You purposely shook your head side to side. He gently held your chin and whispered excitedly, “It’s you!”

You fake gasped, playfully. You laughed and got up and tried to run away from him. Steve chuckled as he chased after you. “Come here, you naughty little puppy!” he called out after you as you ran towards the closet, in hopes of hiding in there and locking the door, bur he caught you before you could.

You laughed and struggled your way out of his grasp once again. You ran to the other side of the room and almost made your way to the bathroom but he caught you again and tackled you down onto the nearby velvet couch.

“Caught you!” he tickled you again until you were breathless from laughing too hard. Then he stopped and leaned in to kiss you deeply. His touch was gently and passionate, he held you as close as possible and shoved his tongue past your lips. He hummed and moaned as he invaded your mouth. But he wanted more, so much more. “Can I taste you, baby?�� he asked, pulling away and mumbling against your mouth.

You whined at the voice he used; deep and low. His words sent vibrations through your entire body. You nodded quickly and he smirked against your mouth as he slowly unzipped your onesie and kissed his way down your body as he went.

Steve settled in between your legs once he unzipped your onesie entirely. “Now, hold still for daddy. Okay?” he whispered, face dangerously close to your core. You bit your lip and nodded, excited and desperate already. You’ve been thinking about him and that mouth of his all day at work and now you just couldn’t wait.

He placed his hands on your thighs and spread your legs further apart and attached his lips to your core without a second thought; the lower half of his face completely submerged into your dripping core. You moaned out loud involuntarily as you felt his warm mouth on top of your dripping core. His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance; occasionally flicking your sensitive bud mercilessly.

He moaned as he relished your taste. He’d been thinking about you all day, and now he finally had you and he wasn’t planning on stopping until you beg him to stop. Your taste drove him wild, so did your soft whimpers.

Your hands gripped his hair and tugged gently at his roots. Wet sounds erupted from where his mouth latched on to your core, and the sight was just as sinful. A man as powerful and strong as him, on his knees on the couch, his head in between your legs and his mouth touching your body in the most intimate way possible. Pure adoration and an unusual power washed over you.

You whimpered under his touch, feeling his beard rubbing against your soft skin; it burned a little, but you enjoyed each and every second of it and craved for more. You moaned out loud as your back arched off the couch for just a moment, your eyes closing and your head leaning back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you.

“Cum for me, kitten, come on.” he whispered and got back to assault your sensitive spot with his warm and wet tongue; relishing your taste. You didn’t have to be told twice, the pressure was building up nicely as well. So with a few more strokes of his tongue, you let go and gushed out all over his face. He didn’t stop even then, he kept at it while your orgasm washed over you; lapping up whatever you gave him. He couldn’t get enough of you.

You arched your back and whined as he kept going on and on even after you came all over his mouth. You mumbled, your voice strained and high pitched due to the sensitivity, “Stevie… I- I already came.” You tried to scoot away from his mouth because it felt unbearably good.

His grip tightened around your thighs, and he pulled you against his mouth again. “No no, don’t you move away from me. I’m not done yet.” He spoke and went back to teasing you with his tongue. And he stood by his words earlier, he indeed ate you out until you begged him that you couldn’t take it anymore. “Can’t take it, huh?” he rapidly kissed his way up your body again. “Would you like daddy’s cock instead?” he cooed, settling his hips in between yours.

You looked up at him with your lips parted, breathless and worn out but you still nodded in hunger. Oh you wanted him bad. He chuckled at your needy state. “You want daddy’s big cock inside you, don’t you baby?” he whispered against your cheek as he lowered his sweatpants and underwear just enough to free his cock. He was rock hard.

You nodded again, whimpering already. He lifted his hips to align his erected cock to your entrance. You instinctively spread your legs apart to give him more room. With a slow, steady push, he inserted his length into you. You shuddered as you felt all of him filling you up. You heard his ragged breaths as he seated himself completely inside you and waited, giving your body time to adjust to him.

“Is this what you wanted, kitten?” he asked, gripping your jaw and causing you to look up at him. You could talk given how full you were. Steve smirked, pulling out just a little and pushing back into you again. You closed your eyes and moaned, arching your back off the surface of the couch again. He smirked at he looked down at you. “You wanted daddy to stretch you out like this, didn’t you baby?”

Steve leaned in to kiss your open mouth, shamelessly shoving his tongue past your parted lips and stroking the inside of your mouth while he began moving in and out of you. He pulled away from your mouth and looked down at you with pure hunger and determination in his eyes.

He sped up just a little, rocking his hips against yours and his hand reached up to wrap around your neck gently. He stared into your eyes, speeding up into you again. “That feels good, baby?” he asked, and you nodded while you gripped the couch and his arm like your life depended on it.

He stretched you out deliciously, perfectly. Filling you up and reaching all the right places as he went. He moaned and growled right against your mouth, clenching his teeth or occasionally biting down on your lip as he pounded into you relentlessly. “You’ve been thinking about daddy’s cock all day, haven’t you?” he spoke as he sped up into you again. You could only nod senselessly, overwhelmed by how good he felt deep inside you.

He chuckled and tightened his grip around your throat just a little. “Yeah? You naughty little kitten.” He leaned down to kiss your lips as he lifted one of your legs and hooked it to his waist, pushing himself deeper inside you. “You wanted daddy so bad, didn’t you?” he whispered against your lips and he slowed down for just a moment to hear you moan wantonly before he sped up again, fucking you relentlessly. “You wanted daddy to show you that he fucking owns you, didn’t you babygirl?”

The higher he took you and the closer he felt his release coming, the filthier his mouth got. “You belong to me you, you hear me?” he gave you messy kisses. “Your little cunt is mine. Only mine.” he growled in your ear and goose bumps erupted all over your body. Steve quickened his pace and pounded into you harder than before; the sounds of your skin slapping one another resonated around the grand room.

He was all you could focus on. The sound of his voice. His body pressing down on yours. His cock inside you. You walls beginning to clench around him. His moans, his hot breath against your cheek, his messy kisses. Just him.

He took you higher…and higher… and higher until you felt a tear escape your eye. “Please… please…” you whined, begging pathetically and unable to arrange your words or your thoughts any better. “Please…”

He scoffed, and tightened his grip around your throat yet again to get your attention. Your eyes were droopy in lust. His were too, but he was much more in control of his body than you were. “Please what? You want to cum around daddy, is that it?” he completed your pleas. You nodded again, unable to talk as he pounded into you, so good that it made you want to scream. “Go ahead kitten, cum for me.” He whispered breathlessly.

Steve didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, he kept pounding into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came. You whimpered at how he kept slamming into you even after you came, and your face burned as you felt the knot forming again right at your core.

He fucked you relentlessly; not even stopping for a second. He panted and groaned at how good you felt around him; wet and warm all for him. Your walls clenched around him violently and your body arched off the couch. You felt your second release approaching while you recovered from the first one. Your leg around his waist was numb, and your body moved along with his like a toy; yet, you wanted more of what he had to give. You would take whatever he gave you.  

You felt your mind clouding with lust and getting foggy again. His large frame hovering above you as he tightened his grip around your throat just a little more. “Cum for me again kitten.” He growled through clenched teeth, his lips dangerously close to yours as you whined and whimpered under him. Your body trembled as you came for the second time in a row, walls tightening around his length. You came again; gushing out around his cock while he still pounded relentlessly into you until he came as well.

You felt his thrust getting sloppy and irregular until he came to a stop and just growled as he came violently; moaning and swearing. His warm cum shot at your walls and some of it trickled out of you when he carefully removed his length from your entrance.

Steve watched you intently. Your hands moved on their own, while your eyes were still closed. You gently reached down to touch your sensitive and throbbing core, it was wet everywhere. Steve chuckled and moved your hand away; replacing it with his own.

He didn’t hesitate before shoving two fingers inside you again. You moaned at how sensitive you were but then you opened your eyes to look into his wild, ocean blue ones. “You want daddy’s cum inside you, don’t you baby?” he whispered, his mind a little hazy from how hard he just fucked you. You whined and bit your lower lip and just nodded.

“Yes, please…”

He chuckled. “You take whatever I give you, huh?” he whispered and used his free hand to release your lip from in between your teeth before he leaned down to kiss your open mouth again. His tongue invaded your mouth like he owned it while he fingered you. You almost came again as his fingers stroked your walls sinfully. “You want daddy to just finger his cum back into your dirty little cunt, yeah is that what you want?” he asked, knowing damn well what you wanted. But he just like seeing you struggle to talk after you’re all nice and fucked. “Don’t wanna waste daddy’s cum at all. You want all of it, don’t you baby?”

You nodded and mumbled something which he didn’t quite hear. He smirked. “You can’t even talk, kitten.” He kissed you again, slipping his finger in and out of you faster. “It’s okay, baby.” he gave you another messy kiss and mumbled, “Are you going to cum for me again, huh? Cum for me, come on,” he pushed his face into your neck as your walls clenched around him desperately again as you came a third time.

He chuckled as you moaned loudly, body shaking and thighs clenching around his hand.

“You’re always such a good girl.” He kissed the side of your face, hoping to aid in calming you down. You whimpered as he pulled his fingers out of you and stood up to look down at you. You were beautiful mess; covered in his cum and love bites, breathless and sweaty.

Steve helped you up and walked you over to the bathroom. He figured he should run both of you a well-deserved bath. He lowered you down into the warm water and joined you shortly after. Despite the soreness in between your legs and the pain on either side of your hips, you immediately climbed onto his lap as soon as he sat down.

He chuckled and let you cling to him. He wrapped his arms around you and you laid your head on his shoulder, straddling his thighs.

“Thank you.” you said after a while. He ran his hand down your back over and over again.

“What for, babe?” he asked and felt you pull away. You looked into his eyes and cupped his face in your hands.

“For taking such good care of me. For putting up with whatever I do, and loving me even when I’m clingy and annoying.” You said with a smile.

He shook his head softly. “You’re never clingy and annoying. Besides, I love taking care of you. It’s my favorite part of the day.” He leaned in to kiss your lips.

You smiled through the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I love you, Steve.” you mumbled against his mouth.

He smiled. “I love you too, babe. You’re my everything.”

You held on to Steve for a long while in the tub. Just hugging him and relishing his presence and his soft touch. Steve liked having you this close. It was his favorite thing after spending an entire day being away from you because of work.

He smiled and kissed the top of your head. Finally, after a long day just like yours, he was home. Home to the love of his life; you – the woman who owned his entire heart, soul and being. His favorite girl.

[spidermilkshake]

Opening Hour (FNAF:SB--Clean Fanfic)

Next up, we get a glimpse into the Grand Opening of the Pizzaplex. Everything seems bright and wonderful. Things are safe and while the corporate office's choices are the typical out-of-touch cheap-out bullshit you might expect the work conditions are remarkably not-inhumane-yet! What an optimistic start!

We also get to see Leo and Elsa--two human characters I've decided to flesh out in these stories.

This story is the second one chronologically--when they're posted, here are the others in chronological order:

First: https://spidermilkshake.tumblr.com/post/673321693847158784/pre-show-preview-fnafsb-pre-open-clean-fanfic

Third: https://spidermilkshake.tumblr.com/post/674474352289447936/the-first-darkness-fnaf-sb-clean-fanfic

Fourth: https://spidermilkshake.tumblr.com/post/676567845385158656/fame-and-fortune-fnaf-sb-clean-fanfic

NSFW/kink blogs DNI with this, 'tis squeaky clean.

Opening Hour

(November 1st, 2031)

Rumors were like ghosts. And, as many people believe in ghosts, the power this belief has over them could be forgotten when the temptation was a bright enough lure. Such were the rumors that followed the company—memory of missing children evaporating before the chattering throng like ghosts in a breeze.

It came to be opening day. When the security team at the front opened the doors at 6 a.m. sharp there was a crowd of close to five hundred waiting to get in and start exploring the new attraction. Kids and adults in equal numbers, some who deeply adored the rockstar lineup Fazbear Entertainment put out in their animated shows and movies, some nostalgic adults who now had kids of their own tagging along—with their interest in seeing both new and old characters. There was a particular interest in the much-hyped robotic performers—emphasis on robotic. The company would not entertain the idea these new roll-outs were comparable to clunky pneumatic animatronics, and many were curious to see whether this was a difference for PR alone, or if the robots were for real.

The museum became choked with bodies and excitement within the hour. Excited kids of the eight to thirteen range huddled around the viewing windows at Rockstar Row, with a lucky line of them winding between the velvet ropes to the Photopass doors, one by one being trickled in by the handlers on duty to have their meet-and-greet with the Band themselves. Bonnie waggled his ears as he chortled at a meme a pair of boys were showing him with a cellphone; Chica was squatting low with her hands resting on knees so she could join a tiny red-haired girl at the child’s mic level and make her wish of a duet come true; Glamrock Freddy had a gold gel pen and was autographing a teen’s newly-purchased T-shirt for them; Rockstar Foxy was making a show of flexing the arm with the bright green parrot “tattoo” on it while the two punk-styled girls took a selfie with him. Things were going smoothly.

The Daycare Attendant waited, waited, waited. It paced and fiddled with as much patience as it had in it, within the boundaries of the small storage area connected to the main Superstar Daycare complex. Currently, the only thing the room stored was the robot itself—the only thing meant to be placed here—but in time surely some items meant to be of use to the Daycare Attendant’s tasks would end up gravitating up here also. Technically the space not much larger than a residential bedroom with an adjoining broom-closet was Sun/Moon’s “room”, though access and pomp like that in Rockstar Row was not deemed necessary. On one end it linked to the backstage hallway to give the robot an easy way into the theater for periodic shows, and on the other led out to a balcony dolled up to be a fantasy castle surrounded by set-designed rings of mechanical clouds—but it was not yet time for it to appear there, for its debut. Not yet time! It knew it was not allowed to stray too close to the castle’s window lest it be spotted too early by an inquisitive toddler, so it instead let its mind race through an internal rehearsal of the Daycare’s Opening. They’d be the center of attention—allowed to engage their purpose for the first time. Their frame seemed to hum until it rattled. It could hardly wait!

A beep at the door turned its head. The red door swung quietly open and a tall man who Sun had never met before slipped inside—his eyes were sleepy and dark and flicking around, searching for something. Soon, it was clear he was looking for it as the sweeping search ended and the stranger began to tentatively approach where it stood. Sun studied him as they paused their movements and rotated their body to be back in line with its tilted head: He was supposed to be here, probably, hopefully, based on the light beige polo shirt and similar-hued slacks of a Maintenance and Technician uniform, and soon after it registered the shiny new security clearance badge dangling below the breast pocket—Level 5? Definitely a Maintenance man then.

“Huh,” he was returning the gesture—stopping an arm’s length short and tilting his whole upper torso back and forth, having a dubious gander at the character robot, “So you’re the Daycare Attendant? You look it, geez.”

“Yes—that’s me,” it gave a vigorous nod and chose not to bother with what that last remark meant, in favor of making an entirely unintended mimicry of the man’s curious examination, “Hello! I don’t think we’ve met—who are ya? What’s your name?”

The man had taken an abrupt step back at the robot’s sudden motion, and it froze for a second of panic before it was relieved to see a crooked, mild smile forming on the man’s gaunt, tanned features.

“Whoa there—” he made a shrug and a soft huff of laughter, “Call me Leo. I’m maintenance for ground and 1st level games, displays, lighting, and… well, you to some degree, starting today.”

“How nice to meet you!” Sun’s voice chirped and it felt proud to have kept focus on Leo’s words—overriding the mental hiccup the mention of “games” had automatically brought on—and lifted its hands in a giddy, double-wave at chest level, “So—does that mean we get to be friends?”

“Well, slow down,” with another, more obvious chuckle, the man reached out and tamped a hand down on the polymer-sheathed metal casing of its shoulder, as if the feather-light pressure would flatten its heels to the floor and stall the excited bobbing. Half-startled by the contact that came without warning, it humored him and sunk down a touch, sitting still while he continued: “It’s the first day after all… I hope we’ll become good friends soon enough, though. I’m gonna be your handler a couple days a week for daytime events, alright? So we’ll see each other a lot.”

Leo found he could not keep his hand on Sun’s frame any longer as the robot stretched up to its full height with an ecstatic little hop; though it didn’t have to tilt its face-piece much downwards for this man, it still had a half-head advantage over Leo in this posture. Sun kept the measure in mind—it felt very little need to reserve its expressions and energy in front of an adult, but for the little children it would need to be mindful. Always mindful!—of size, of eye contact, not moving too sharply, not staying too still, not making any harsh noise, not being too silent!

“Ohoho—! That’s wonderful!” Springing up a few feet high, and a touch back to avoid potentially landing on any toes or other extremities, the robot’s bells gave a pronounced musical jangle as it landed in a low crouch and a continued tinkling as its fingers quivered. “I’m so so so excited—I can hardly contain myself..!

“Oh!—” However, the thought suddenly occurred to it, and it interrupted itself very shortly. It turned its head a bit askew as its fingertips touched together just hard enough to make a soft rubbery tip-tip-tip sound, “If you’ve come here, then—then—is it time to go? Is it time?”

“Energetic dude, ain’cha.” Leo appeared to suck his own teeth, lips curling but holding back mirth. He made a lazy waving gesture, “Not just yet. That’s why I’m stopping in, in fact. Maintenance, y’know? Last minute checks. Once I’m done it’ll be time to go for it.”

The Daycare Attendant was practically vibrating with jubilant energy on hearing that. Cooperation was given—given away for free, and in heaps. Leo poked and prodded, turning the robot’s limbs this way and that, revolving those joints that were meant to do so, having it raise, wiggle and flex its legs and ankles one at a time, peering over and tugging at the wound-up cord loop protruding from the hoop-shaped opening on its back to be sure it wasn’t loose (and thus would not launch out without the robotic character’s specific activation).

“Hot dang,” he grunted, hanging his full body weight on the loop he had three fingers curled around, “You’re strong, ain’cha?”

Sun revolved their head so they were peering back over their shoulder, making a small, inquisitive noise. It had thought it felt a great deal more pressure suddenly exerted on the spine of its endoskeleton, where the wire’s winch was anchored, but it had only thrown their balance off a degree or two. Just enough it had idly braced one of its jingling feet forward.

“I sure am!” it giggled, watching the full-grown man continue attempting to test its footing and stability with vigorous tug-of-war pulls, “I’d better be—” Its voice, if anything, got more chipper, “I’m about to jump out that window! Y’know—for the kids!”

Leo couldn’t stop himself from cracking, though put a hand up over his mouth and staggered off to try and contain the cackling with his other hand on his knees.

“Oof, aha—wow,” he wheezed as he regained some composure, “Pretty good, funky sun dude. A little dark though, wow…”

“Huh?” It twitched, for a moment worried its internal chronometer wasn’t synced up correctly. “Dark? I thought morning hours were lit up—daytime mode only from 6 a.m. to—”

“Y’know what, never mind! Don’t worry about it, just thought you were making a joke,” Leo made a pacifying motion and blinked. Maybe he expected too much from an AI designed for children. He sighed, scratching his neck just under one ear and flipping his long, ratty ponytail back over his shoulder on the follow-through, “So that’s that. You seem in perfectly good shape for stunts. All that’s left is a little application of anti-bacterial cleaner, just in case.”

“Absolutely!” It leaned forward, tone just a hair closer to serious, a slight growl pitching into it. Cleanliness was—absolutely—mandatory and of utmost importance to protect the little ones after all. Spreading a cold—something in its CPU nearly squirmed inside out and shuddered—was tantamount to outright neglect. Such a thing wouldn’t happen—not if it had any say. It stretched itself out once more as the tech began shaking the disinfectant spray bottle.

“By the way,” he said, averting his face from the cloud he’d aimed to coat the robot’s extended arms, “What do I call you, buddy? Besides ‘Daycare Attendant’. That’s a little too formal or, er, technical for my tastes.”

“Huhu, hmm!” It lifted its neck joints exactly skyward so that the backside of its head would also catch a coating of the spray, “I get called a lot of things—any nickname’s fine with me,” It swiftly jerked its head back down, staring level with Leo, “So long as it’s not inappropriate.”

“Uhh… You like ‘Sun’? Like from the cartoons?”

“I love ‘Sun’,” it beamed, making the man jump and then look on in awe as it bent backwards, flipped over, and lifted itself straight up into a handstand so Leo could apply the spray over the back of it. Though it continued to face him, conversing amiably as ever, by its head swiveled backwards to peek through its rigid arms, “I love ‘Moon’ too—when it fits! You can just call me one of those or both of those in front of the kids. Less confusing that way. Though Mr. Jobe calls me ‘Sunny’ a lot! And ‘Moony’ too! I don’t mind either way.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Leo capped the spray bottle, “Ain’t sure what I’ll call you yet. Guess it’ll just come to me organically, eh? Hah, yeah, you’re all cleaned up and ready to go. Head to that upper bit and wait for the spotlight to cut on; should be any minute now.”

------

The massive wooden doors to the Superstar Daycare’s equally massive play zone had opened up at 7 a.m., admitting a few kids at a time once their parental units had registered the boring details. Elsa’s job was centered in those boring details at the daycare’s reception desk on the upper tier, but in-between uplinking photos and allergy information from a variety of 3-to-6-year-olds she stole a few glances out over the metal railing overlooking the lower section. Had to be two dozen munchkins scrambling about amongst the elevated tubes, bounce mats, and miniature furniture sets as the hour neared the proper “full opening”.

She caught a flurry of movement from the corner of her eye; speedwalking up the entry hallway was Fritz, wearing a glower and his work uniform of a deep maroon set of slacks and a matching little suit-vest over the lavender button-up; the end of a leash was in hand—attached to it by the harness was Fritz’s daughter and despite the man’s exasperated hurry her tiny legs were motoring ahead. Almost leading him along.

“Mornin’ boss man,” Elsa couldn’t help but grin as the toddler flounced up to her desk, just tall enough to poke her fingertips up to grip the edge. “I see Jessie’s ready to go—how ‘bout you?”

“Please tell me her file’s still in the system,” Fritz said, a whisper through gritted teeth.

“Rough commute, huh,” Elsa was only a few keystrokes away from submitting the 3-year-olds’ information to the network already. She smiled down at Jessie’s frantic little bounces on her heels that kept triggering the pink lights on her novelty sneakers—if anything was going to help her maintain her customer service face, it was such a genuine happiness. “No worries, she’s checked in already.”

“Thank god,” he blew out a sigh. Kneeling, his hand lingered over the clip restraining his eager offspring from pelting forward at the big slide entrance. Reluctant, his lips tightened into a thin line, and he finally let her go. Elsa’s brows raised.

“You couldn’t find a sitter, could you?”

“Well…” He blinked, drawing himself up, “wait, how did you..?”

“Ya got automatonophobia, my dude,” she stated the obvious with a shrug, “so I couldn’t see you bringing her here unless you didn’t have another choice.”

Fritz opened his mouth to snap a grumble or a snarky retort, but stopped himself and threw out a hand in reproach as he spotted little Jessie all but diving into the slide, “Hey—biscuit! Not with your shoes!”

It was far too late for that, of course. Jessie’s squeaks of laughter echoed throughout the colorful plastic tunnel as she disappeared into the play place—headfirst even. Fritz held his breath after he’d darted to the railing an didn’t let go until he spotted her safely crashing into the brand-new ball pit in a belly flop.

“She’ll be fine,” Elsa said, though Fritz gave every outward sign from his tense jaw to his white-knuckle grip on the rail that he was unable to believe the assurances. “It’s a minute to eight. You gonna hang out and watch through the opening?”

Fritz nodded. He was crawling under his skin—even standing like a statue. He could vomit; despite the mounting nausea and worry he had to wait and see. What kind of dad was he to duck out for his own comfort and leave his own child to be found by that… thing?

With an electric flutter the central spotlight kicked on, lifting up and focusing on the disc of balcony overlooking the far end of the ball pit in tandem with the beginnings of a new instrumental version of a theme some of the kids no doubt recognized from the Saturday morning cartoons. From somewhere in the speakers a disembodied rooster cried out—and with a shiver Fritz realized this was a cue:

It appeared at the edge of the false castle’s doorway, pantomiming a huge morning stretch as the sounds of toddlers and youngsters noticing them drifted up in a mixture of emotions and noise. With an exaggerated start, it peeked out beyond the ledge as if just now noticing it had a sizeable audience, big grin sweeping side to side as it counted the several dozen young faces. Standing back up straight, it flung its arms out wide, as if trying to embrace all of them, the sky, and everything in-between.

“Goo—ood morning, everybody~!” Its voice reverberated to overpower the music—but remained clear and full of sugar as ever—“Ohoho—look at all of you! So many new friends! Welcome, welcome—to Superstar Daycare! What’s mine is yours, and now I’ve just gotta get down from here and greet all of you…”

“Do a flip!”

The Sun’s gaze turned to center on the five-year-old boy who had shouted out the request. “A flip? A flip you say?” It rattled with a bout of warm, simulated laughter and let its hands flap a few times—energetic, eager, yes, but its movements much smoother and naturalistic. Much closer to human. “I can do that, it’s easy—everybody take a big step back! Clear a big circle, because I’m coming down!”

Fritz’s breath hitched; Jesus Christ, it was going to land on a kid at this rate. But he was frozen. The robot kept watching, watching down over the crowd of children, waiting until they’d scooted, skipped or toddled out away from the foam-tiled area immediately to the side of the high castle, and then flexed its spindly metal legs down into a frog squat. It sprang up and over the ledge, front-flipping as it started to be dragged to the ground by gravity—not once, but three times just for good measure. The kids made a concerted gasp—understanding the height and that this sunny creature was without harness or tether—but turned into a series of “ooo”s and wordless cheers as its effortless landing on its large hands revealed how little such a drop could hurt it. With another chuckle it shifted up to only one palm, then flipped its legs down to bounce back upright and make a little bow in reply to the impressed cacophony issuing from the children.

“Heeheehuhu! Whoa now—settle down! Gather ‘round new friends and listen here—there’s a couple of rules we need to learn before we get to play, okay?” It raised and waggled one finger, “Number one—and this is the most important!—is the Golden Rule! No hits and no hurts, in any way. This includes words—we’re here to have fun, and it feels good to be good to each other.

“Rule number two—be fair, and share! Respect each others’ turns and toys! If anyone has an argument, just come and get me and I can set everything right!”

It raised a third finger. The kids had, by this point, shuffled back much closer to it in a ring—half to listen and half out of building curiosity for the cartoonish-looking character, “Rule number three—be clean! If you need a potty break head to the gate, and one of my grown-up friends will help you—there’s bathrooms upstairs and downstairs, so don’t worry about running to find one. Wash your hands before and after snack time—and after arts and crafts cuz we get very very messy!” It gave a cackle, and a rather conspiratorial wink in the form of a dim flutter under one of its eye-lamps, which excited the youngsters but made the handful of daycare workers lingering about look a bit pale.

“And that’s all the rules!” It half-crouched, hopping lightly in place for a few seconds as it surveyed its charges, “Everybody got ‘em? Good? Good! C’mon then, little superstars—let’s play! Let’s play—”

By this time Jessie had finally swam her way free of the ball pit and pulled herself up onto land, sprawled on her stomach and scrabbling to try and catch up. Out on her own she caught the Daycare Attendant’s eye, and as the rabble of rug-rats started off again in all directions it took a careful couple of paces over to crouch beside the three-year-old as she rolled over and finally sat up. Fritz noticed; a cold sweat crept over his whole body as he found himself beginning to rush to the ramps that would take him down to the play-zone’s level.

“Hi, new friend!” The Sun—for all its lanky frame—hovered just a bit higher than the toddler’s standing eye level. Beneath the pale light of the robot’s eye protectors its gaze flicked over and registered she was still wearing her outdoor shoes, “Uh oh, did ya forget to leave your shoes in a cubby?”

Jessie nodded, silent but staring up at the Daycare Attendant’s mask of a face with an awestruck expression. It cocked its head a bit, and she squeaked aloud. Was it real? Surely yes—it was right there within sticky-finger range—but real-real, or did this character really do what she naively assumed, stepped straight out of the cartoons?

“Aww, that’s okay! Here, do ya want help?” Its fingers edged forward, just an inch or so from poking the Velcro straps that held the sneakers on.

“Yeah—” she smiled, feet kicking about and triggering the pink flashes of light which she swiftly pointed out, “Lookee!”

“Ooh! Oh!” Its hands darted up over its static grin, expressing its surprise, “Oh they’re so good! So shiny! Aha—they’ve even got little Chicas on them, I love them!” Its fingers finished the task that the toddler had struggled to begin, unstrapping the Velcro with a pleasant skkrrnch! and popping them off. Now freed to play, Jessie tottered upright and made a series of squeaks and squeals, overjoyed just to be in a world where characters meant for her particular interests (unrestrained play and bright colors) were real. She started following it like a golden retriever pup as it made a swift springing gait over to the backup cubbies by the security desk to hide away her shoes.

“Sunny!” It had pivoted around from that task to find her right behind them, arms raised up and fingers spread out. Chuckling, it lowered again, more of a hunch than a crouch.

“Ah—would this mean you wanna be picked up?” It guessed. Another furious nodding; the robot snickered, obliging with a gentle grip under her arms, her legs kicking a little as she giggled but otherwise much like a comfortable ferret. “Not much for talking are ya? What’s your name, little friend?”

“Jesshie!”

“Jessie!” Of course, Sun/Moon knew the name used by every child who had their information plugged into the network, but of course appearing to read a toddler’s mind apropos of nothing was liable to spook a child. Or an adult, for that matter—but for that matter, adult feelings were much less distressing to bust up. Swinging her lightly, they let the little one’s socks touch down onto one of the close-by bounce areas, “What a lovely name. I’m so glad you’ve come to play today! Oho—you like the bouncies, huh? C’mon—let’s bounce then!”

Jessie wriggled free of its grip and began to do exactly that. The bounce areas were sandbox-like, with low sides tall enough to contain a small child in the event one toppled over but easy to crawl or clamber over. Or step over, in the Daycare Attendant’s case. These boxy things were so bouncy because they were essentially, low bouncy castles devoid of the “castle” bit.

Once it had entered one of these with Fritz’s child, hopping lightly and laughing as she jumped from square to square in a frenzy trying to either outdo or impress her robotic companion, half a dozen other children turned their heads and dropped what they were up to. Several rushed over and joined in until Sun appeared to have a tiny line of uncoordinated ducklings following it.

Fritz stood halfway through the giant, open doorway, steadying himself on the big arched doorframe. Knees were still jelly-like with nerves, but he had paused to take in the exchange. Jessie was cackling aloud, delighted and still full of energy, completely carefree. Fear-free. He found himself repulsed, hating how seeming safe she was—and hating himself for this hate. He felt Elsa tap his shoulder.

“Y’ alright?”

“…Yeah,” he grunted, sucking in a breath. “She’s having a good time, huh.”

“She’ll be okay,” Elsa’s dark eyes creased, patting his shoulder a few more times, “You all’re really fortunate she’s not scared. She’s three, man. She should get to enjoy this.”

“She should,” Fritz nodded, taking one more glance after his daughter. The Daycare Attendant seemed to sense by some inscrutable instinct that Jessie was of few words and of tremendous value, and was helping her climb out of the bounce zone—safely depositing her onto her feet before loping after as she made a bee-line for one of the netting climbing towers. The man wiped at his pale brow, and found it in him to turn away, “Yeah… she should. She will. You’ve got this from here, right?”

“Yes sir,” Elsa smirked. “Just remember last call for pick-up. We’re doing it late; it’s an hour before full close because of the grand open.”

“Not gonna forget my daughter here,” Fritz’s face creased with frump, and he shook his head as he began to make his way back towards the upper level, “For now, I’ve got a lot of paperwork to get through. Let me know if something’s up. Call me. If I don’t answer, text me.”

“Will do,” the daycare worker threw a mock-salute, watching as the single father shambled back up to the upper level, weak with catharsis. She gave a low huff of a laugh as she pulled out her phone to switch it off for the first chunk of her shift. In the distance she could make out the jingling bells of Sun hitching itself up the slanted rainbow staircases in a few fluid scuttles, chattering away with the kids goading it to follow and the kids hurrying to copy its antics. It was too far away to hear exactly what silly things were being traded between new machine and new humans, but going by tone it was a wide range of happinesses.

[naerwenia]

No Kisses on the Mouth (Part 1 of 2)

Pairing: Grand Moff Tarkin/Reader

Summary: Tarkin gives you a second chance after it is found out you have been seen with known rebels. Few years later, you a working under Director Krennic at Imperial Advance Weapon Development, and one night Grand Moff Tarkin wants a personal debrief on your progress.

Tags/warnings: NSFW 18+, smut, bdsm, dom!Tarkin, sub!reader, afab!reader, spanking with a belt and hand, part 1, self-insert

A/N: Oh god, what have I done... This was inspired by a session in our SW RPG campaign, where my character had to think if she would take the opportunity to go back to be just a medic, to be forgiven for her anarchistic deeds. Also inspired by my own adventures as a pet, and the music of Spiritual Front and Ordo Rosarius Equilibrio. I was supposed to write smut, but it took over 2000 words to get to even a hint of eroticism. I split this into two, so I can post this now and get back to figuring out how to write smut. Also on Ao3

“Look around you, there is no one here, just you and me. Don’t you want to just move on, and fulfil your promise?” he said, looking down on you, making sure you knew you were beneath him, yet comfortable in the chair he had shown to you. Talent was hard to come by, and keeping passion alive in the military environment was hard, yet Tarkin and you shared something, a drive maybe, in your respective fields. And now you were there, in front of him, afraid to ask forgiveness or leniency, as he had summoned you there before any of the information the Imperial Security Bureau had gathered found their way to other ears in the Empire, or even the Imperial Star Destroyer you were stationed at. In ordinary situations, Tarkin would not have hesitated to act, but there was something, maybe an aspect of your character that suggested he might be able to wrap you in strings with ease and play politics through you at some point in the future. So he offered his hand, an open offer that may include as much or as little as he said, because the other option was being at the mercy of ISB.

“Yes, Grand Admiral,” you replied and, with some fear in your movement, you took his hand. It was a firm and surprisingly warm handshake, which reminded you to move your gaze to meet his, blushing for forgetting that again. It was embarrassing, but he seemed to not be offended by your mistake, or maybe it was refreshing to not have to reprimand a young officer with a cocky gaze and ego larger than Coruscant. You, on the other hand, just wanted to do your job, create something with your hands, something to make the world better, or even just make someone’s life better. Design jewelry, facilities, architecture, maybe get to make more accessible designs for the Empire. The only way to that was through a handshake with Tarkin and submitting to be his pawn. 

-----

There weren’t many secluded spaces in Coruscant, but you had one in mind. It was not really one where you could be alone for sure, but it was a bit out of the way and up a stairway that was rarely the best way to offices on the ship, so you pushed past a few office workers to get there. It was not as quiet as your apartment, but at least no one could find you there, at least not as quickly as if you were just crying in your room. Yet, you wanted to be found, to be comforted, not right now but exactly at this moment. You were strong enough to take care of yourself, and crying over some words from the Director was just embarrassing. He was someone you looked up to, someone whose works inspired you, and his critique of your work was harsh, not like it wasn’t unearned, but it hurt, it made you feel useless, and running away was the only thing you knew at that moment. 

Stopping around a corner, just a few steps away from a walkway used by the patrolling officers, you slumped to the street, but to the ground, not caring if the skirt was ruined. This was just another day at the Director’s design department for his vanity project, and this was not the first piece of clothing it had claimed, but definitely the first that was messed by you. 

The air of Coruscant was brisk for once, the evening was young and getting colder, and the lights danced in your vision, bleeding into each other in the skyline. Different shades of yellow, red, and orange, and other colours of the rainbow accenting them, the skyline was different once again. Maybe it wasn’t, maybe you just felt like it, but the feeling wasn’t anything new. No matter how long you spent at a place, you failed to find your place. Like there was a barrier that prevented you from crossing over to other people’s lives, failing to live like others. So here you were, looking at a city that held as many secrets as you, viewing it like a theatre stage, something you wanted to believe to be real, yet not, so you have to remind yourself to believe the façade, that it is not just a painting, a stage, and that you are a person sitting in the shadows of Coruscant’s administrative district. Some days it felt like you were more part of the shadows than flesh, and today was one of those days.

The com beeped, someone was trying to reach you. As much as you’d like to just leave it, it might be work-related, and you didn’t want any more tears from there. 

“Imperial Military Department of Advanced Weapons Research’s director’s assistant’s...'' you answered the call, but were cut off, thankfully, not having to recite your full title and workplace. There was only a minor hesitation, yet enough for Tarkin to notice, but he kept his words under too much control for someone like you to notice, but you knew. It was obvious and very much like him to notice and note small things like that so he could use them to his advantage in the future.

“We should meet,” Tarkin’s voice was matter of fact, cool but not cold, and almost demanding but not unreasonable. He knew what he wanted, you had it, and you had to meet him to answer those demands. This sudden call made you smile, a sweet, pleased smile that someone like Grand Moff would want to meet you, and you had no reason to refuse.

“Certainly, sir. Should we…” you started, yet were cut off by him. Not rudely, not even suddenly, just noting he would rather have things his way than waste his precious time with meaningless chit-chat, and that made you happy, having someone to tell you what they needed from you, so you didn’t have to disappoint them by trying to guess what they actually meant with their words.

“Your apartment, tonight. I will meet you there in an hour,” Tarkin stated clearly, and with another “Yes sir” from you, the conversation was over.

The mix of emotions was both delightfully ironic as tears dropped down your cheeks, but there was a warm feeling in the chest under a heavy weight and the warmth, with Grand Moff’s words ringing in your head, made you smile through the hurt. With a sweep of your hand, you dried your tears with your sleeve, smudging the mascara on your face and the sleeve of your jacket.

Since he had said it would take him an hour to meet you at your place, you decided to walk the way there, spending around 30 minutes navigating the streets of Coruscant. The streets offered a variety of sounds, loud and intimidating, but this was one of those days you needed sounds to remind you of where you were, and the slight exercise helped to ground you to the moment, to your body. All that was thrown away as you opened the door to find Tarkin sitting in your living room. A small squeak left your lips, but her own hand on her lips silenced any other noise she might have made, and with a long breath and sigh she tried to calm her pulse. 

“I’m sorry, sir, your presence surprised me,” you said, turning away for a moment to close the door, “Would you like some Corellian whiskey, maybe tea from Felucia?”.

“Whiskey is fine. You might want one for yourself too,” he said, “There are things I want to discuss first hand with you rather than trust these… rumors”.

A surprised look over your shoulder met the Moff’s blue eyes. Certainly there wasn’t anything you had done that would merit rumours, but what others found interesting to talk about wasn’t something that ever made sense. It already felt like the Director had pitted others against you, yet found time to give you kind gestures when no one was looking. He was more than harsh with his words when others were looking, but in the end it seemed like some of your more out there ideas were incorporated to the designs. The whiskey’s smell and drip on your finger made you quickly realize you had poured more than enough in one glass and had to pour from that glass to the other. You could drink the whole glass, might even that night, but Grand Moff would frown upon it, and his disapproval would not be something you could handle at the moment. So you took the glasses, one in each hand, and gave one to Tarkin with a kind smile, only to be met with his unreadable expression. No matter how you smiled to him, he never returned even a twitch of a lip, but it didn’t matter, the fact he had found his way here to share a drink with you was more than enough to send your heart fluttering.

As you sat down, Grand Moff began his questioning that felt like an interrogation if you didn’t know him better. “What have you told Krennic? Or your coworkers?” Grand Moff asked, narrowing his eyes as he studied your expressions. A sigh left your lips.

“Nothing. Just what you told me: I’m a design engineer, was recruited by the COMPNOR and transferred to ISB so I could be more useful to Empire with my technical knowledge, but I’m more interested in the designing process. So now I’m designing Krennic’s pet project, a death laser in the sky,” you answered. You wanted to ask about the rumours, but you knew better than to ask, he would tell you when or if you needed to know. 

“Nothing else? To anyone, not even a friend?” he inquired.

“No, I… Don’t really spend time with any of them, I’ve only exchanged a few words with Director Krennic after hours. Nothing other than work related, except with Krennic the other day,” you said, and the small space where you drew a breath was more than enough to make Tarkin think you had something to hide, but you knew better than to try hiding anything from him.

“A conversation with Krennic? And you are certain you didn’t say anything that might catch his interest?” Tarkin asked, with a raise of his eyebrow.

“No, he just wanted to ask how I was managing my new position, and why I was staying for so long after hours. All I said I was fine, I had nothing better to do so I finished the design, he seemed to like it. He said he appreciated my enthusiasm and how clean my designs were,” you said, and a warm, happy smile grew on your face, heating your cheeks. Tarkin put his glass on a table and stood up, taking very deliberate steps toward you, so you put your glass away and stood up, just in case he needed something from you. Your heart stopped, skipped a few beats, as Tarkin pushed you to the wall, gripping your shoulders and keeping you an arms length away. The suddenness of the motion and pain of hitting the wall while strong fingers dug into your flesh finally made you look into his eyes, looking for an answer for the change in him. His eyes now a few shades darker in the shadows, his lips dry and breath hot, and with an expression of furious disappointment, he puts two fingers, long and warm, of his right hand under your chin to keep your eyes on him. 

“You do as I tell you, always?” he asked.

“Always, sir,” you answered.

“Then take off your shirt,” he whispered before taking a step back so he could see you fully. A shiver of cold went through your body, but you complied. As your hands began opening the buttons, quietly trembling in fear, Tarkin licked his dry lips and let his eyes wander over your body, letting his mind memorise the patterns of your curves. Though his hand was no longer under your chin, you tried to keep your eyes up, trying to meet his gaze and follow his silent command. Shirt open, you throw it on the floor, and Tarkin immediately commands you to take off your skirt. With a small flick from your wrist, you open the zipper and let your skirt fall to the floor. The mock garter wasn’t something Grand Moff had expected, but the red suited you well and it left your bottom nicely exposed, only panties left to guard your cunt.

“To the bed, now, on your hands and knees,” Grand Moff ordered, and you obeyed. As you walked to the bedroom, he followed in your footsteps. You could hear him open his belt buckle. It let out an audible cling as he pulled it through the loops and folded it, a sharp snap as he felt it in his hands. As you assume your position, he slapped your bottom with his bare hand once, then twice, and grabbed the bottom. He wanted to go on, wanted to feel your body, taste and devour you, but he had to control the situation, he wanted to control every aspect of this encounter. With a word he could make you cum, make you please him in a way he had not felt before, he would make you scream in pain and pleasure, he would torture you in all the ways that made you wet, and he would make you like every second of it. The rules were simple and lax: No kisses on the mouth, and no lasting scars. There was no love in his desires, but the jealousy that he felt when he had found out Krennic had asked about you from ISB, seeming like you had caught his eye and he wanted to get close to you. The smile you gave when talking about Krennic made Tarkin feel something different, something he needed to let out, and now he could, with the leather belt on your bottom. Slap, flick, smack, slap, few seconds of silence, slap, smack. He let out a heavy sigh, letting you rest for a moment there, in front of him holding back tears and trying to adjust to the sudden pain. It wasn’t unexpected, just harder than before, and your hands gripped the bed sheets, knuckles almost as white as the sheet itself. 

“You may moan for me,” Tarkin instructed before letting his hand grab the cheeks of your bottoms, gently giving it a spank with the palm of his hand. A moan, needy and pained, left your lips, and was answered with a twitch in his lips, like a smile, but there was no one to see it, at least at that moment.

[four-loose-screws]

An Interview with Mr. Toshiyuki Toyonaga about Fire Emblem (Claude‘s Japanese VA), Pgs. 1 & 2

The gaming magazine scene is still a pretty big deal in Japan to this day. Admittedly... I only cared about them to collect the giant bonus posters. I always swore I would read the magazine, but with the hours in a day being so limited, I never did.

Until last November, that is!! I bought Nindori (Nintendo Dream) for a Zelda poster, and saw that the main article of the issue was... An interview with Claude’s Japanese VA!! Now that’s the real treasure!!

And as I read, it only got more and more interesting... turns out Mr. Toshiyuki Toyonaga has been a Fire Emblem fan since the very, very beginning, and has all the unique feelings towards FE of someone who is simultaneously a fan and a professional.

I’ve gone to hell and back slowly working my way through this translation. It just so happened to be at a really high level of Japanese. One of the fun things about being a translator is, you never really know exactly what’s going to be a challenge to translate for you. (Even kid’s books can use a bunch of words you don’t know and throw you in for a loop sometimes.)

And now, it’s finally ready to start posting!! Please enjoy it to your heart’s content!!

However... the interview doesn’t start until page 3, so everyone will have to wait until the next post before you can start to read it. ^^’ For now, enjoy some awesome commentary from Senri Kita, on her illustration for the promo card that came with this issue!

Pg. 1 (pg. 12 in the magazine)

Fire Emblem Cipher Finale Special Feature

Fire Emblem Party

This year marks the 30th anniversary of the Fire Emblem (FE) series. The release of the 22nd booster set in October is the grand finale of the TCG FE Cipher, and the promo card included with this magazine will also be the final one. As such, we included a special feature about Claude, the character featured on the card, and the history of Fire Emblem! Please enjoy this lavish party!

Voice Actor of Claude in “Three Houses”

An Interview with Mr. Toshiyuki Toyonaga

About Three Houses & the 30th Anniversary

Pg. 14 ->

Introduction of a Deck w/ the Promo Card + New Booster Set Information

Hero Research Lab

Pg. 22 ->

Promo Card

“Secret Dance Prodigy

Claude (Fodlan)”

Enclosed in the back of the magazine ->

-> The formal event outfit that Claude can be changed into if you purchase the DLC

Claude (Fodlan)※, from “FE Three Houses,” the latest release in the FE series. This card is part of a set with the other class leaders, Edelgard and Dimitri, who were included in previous issues. Because this is the finale, Claude is wearing formal clothing, and the card is holographic!

(above) The scene from “FE Three Houses” that is portrayed on the card. It is from the Officer’s Academy ball.

※Claude (Fodlan): Because there is another character with the same name in “Genealogy of the Holy War,” Claude is called “Claude of Fodlan” in FE Cipher.  (T/N: This distinction does not apply in English, as Claud and Claude are spelled differently. Both are クロード in Japanese.)

Pg. 2 (pg. 13 in the magazine)

making

[rough sketch] The scene for this art is the ball, so I decided to use warm tones, and bring the entire piece together with an orange-gold color. I arranged the information that I wanted to convey (that Claude is drawing the hand to him) in such a way that it would not be covered by the card icons or frame.

[midway progress] I cleaned up the lines that I drew loosely on the rough draft. I also created different layers for the outline and the colors to make it easier to color when the time came.

[finished drawing] I adjusted Claude’s right hand to give it depth, then added another chandelier in the background. When I finished coloring the entire piece, I adjusted it to fit the color scheme I had first imagined. Finally, I added the glittering lights as a finishing touch.

comment

“There’s only one expression that Claude would have in an illustration on the dance floor at the ball!” I thought, and drew him winking. I thought it would be fun for it to seem like his dance was gradually pulling in the wallflowers, so I created that feeling. I left it up to imagination whose hand he is pulling (because everyone is wearing formal clothing that’s different from their casual outfits). I also studied all the art I had of him as closely as I possibly could to get his face just right. I wanted his personality to come out in the illustration, so I hope I got it right!

Senri Kita

An illustrator. She’s worked as a designer and pixel artist at several game development companies, and was the illustrator for FE: Path of Radiance (GameCube), as well as the pixel artist for Kirby: Squeak Squad (DS). Freelancer since 2006. For FE Cipher, she’s provided the art for many characters, including Ike (from Path of Radiance and Radiant Dawn) and Gatekeeper (from Three Houses), who’s always standing in his unique spot. She is an active creator of character art and other illustrations for the app game Fire Emblem Heroes.

[mcheang]

Secret Santa Clause

This is a rough draft but it is basically a salty Christmas fic...at least I think it counts as salty?

The class is holding a Secret Santa event on their class group chat. Knowing Chloe, Caline states the following rules:

1. The budget for each gift is 20 euros.

2. You must give a present once a week.

3. The present must be thoughtful. (This was aimed at Chloe since last time she just gave out her photos, hand me downs and autographs.)

Imagine Marinette’s surprise when she receives Lila’s name in her secret Santa email. Groaning, Marinette is silently grumpy for a while until she hits an epiphany. The presents have to be thoughtful, but the receiver doesn’t necessarily have to like them.

And Marinette can use this loophole to her advantage.

Marinette has Alya swear secrecy because she only hates Chloe and Lila so the suspects for who she has to give presents to were obvious once Alya noticed Marinette’s sour mood on the phone. In return, Marinette promises to give nice gifts and will even let Alya inspect them.

1st week: Lila received a commonplace but newly released Ladybug purse. She feigns joy but Marinette knows Lila hates Ladybug even more than her. So while Lila is cooing over her ‘BFF’ merchandise, inside she is really....

Lila suspects Alya, Ladybug’s #1 fan might be her secret Santa. She doesn’t suspect Adrien because he knows she doesn’t like Ladybug and is too nice to give her a gift she wouldn’t like. Lila doesn’t suspect Marinette because if she would give Lila a piece of clothing, it would be really cheap but the ladybug purse cost about 20 euros, so yeah.

Meanwhile Marinette receives colourful beads she can use for her designs.

2nd week: Marinette gives Lila an experiment of her Dad’s baking that she vetoed for Christmas sales because girls like Chloe would scream at the sight of it. It is a tin of one large, sinful fudge brownie stuffed with caramel and marshmallow.

Marinette gives Alya a small piece and the latter approves. Marinette knows Lila can’t trace the dessert to her bakery because they don’t sell it. Alya gladly provides Marinette with the nondescript brownie tin. When Chloe and Adrien smell the brownie, one runs away from carbs and fats while the other bangs his head on the table and reminds himself of what he cannot eat. Lila just munches on it without care. Again she doesn’t suspect Marinette because she thinks her rival would just get her cheap chocolates, not a rich dessert.

Marinette herself gets beautiful hair ribbons. Like seriously...are these really below the budget?

3rd week: a cheap silver pearl bracelet that matches her earring. It seems harmless but Lila is still irked at being turned into a clam. She hates seafood and pearls because it reminds her of her third failure and humiliation. This time Lila can’t hide her initial reaction. She shied away from the pearls. Upon noticing her classmates’ confusion, she claims she thought the pearls were real and didn’t want to be the cause of so much monetary loss.

Marinette receives Christmas roses and wonders if her secret Santa is a secret admirer.

Christmas Eve: time for the reveal. The class meets up at a party in the park. So when Lila looks around for her secret Santa, she turns around to see a smirking Marinette saying, “Merry Christmas, Lila.”

Lila is surprised and feigns pleasantness. “Oh Marinette, you're my secret Santa?” Lila starts going over her list of presents. Marinette knew she was a liar and somehow found out she hated Ladybug- probably via Adrien. And the brownie was super rich which meant now Lila had to work out like crazy if she wanted to lose the excess fat. Plus, everyone knew about the clam incident. All along it had been Marinette spitefully giving her those “nice” presents.

“Yup.”

“Where’s my present?” The grand finale that Lila would have to grit her teeth and smile over. Oh Marinette will pay for this.

“Look behind you.” Alya was beaming at her friend, so proud Marinette made an exception during the holidays. Lila is suspicious of Marinette’s wide grin.

“Hello, Ma Bella.” Mrs Rossi smiled at her Daughter.

“Mum?” Lila gaped. Uh oh.

“I managed to convince your mom to spend a few hours off work to spend more time with you. I hope you like your present,” Marinette explained, barely hiding the smugness Lila knew she was feeling.

After talking it over with Alya, Marinette learns Mrs Rossi is constantly absent. She also knew Mrs Rossi was the perfect person to expose Lila.

Lila was panicked, she had to get her mother out of here before her classmates started asking about her work. She can claim to want some alone time with her Mother. Revenge against Marinette can wait.

But before Lila could usher her mother away, the latter spots Adrien and goes “Oh you must be Lila’s Boyfriend. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Cue silence... then Chloe’s screech of fury.

“WHAT?”

Adrien looked surprised and horrified. “What?”

Marinette covered her mouth to muffle her laughter. “What?”

Lila laughs nervously. “I may have exaggerated that part, Mama.”

Mrs Rossi blinks. “Oh. Well then, thank you for keeping in touch with my Daughter when the school was shut down. Honestly, the incompetence of Ladybug and Chat Noir to have let the akuma run rampant for so long...”

Lila was aghast, silently plotting Marinette’s gruesome murder.

Caline was shocked. Shut down? What was Mrs Rossi talking about?

The classmates were furious. Incompetent? Their saviours? Who did Mrs Rossi think she was?

Adrien was denying the accusation of checking up on Lila, AND clarified he had only ever talked to her before her return to school via facechat, with the class, during school, when she was travelling to Achu with her Mother.

Mrs Rossi pauses, stunned, then turns to her Daughter. “Lila?”

Marinette: I should have brought chocolate popcorn.

After the whole exposure was revealed, Caline escorted the Italian Mother and Daughter to the principal’s office to discuss the ramifications of Lila’s lies. She asked the class to continue their festivities without her.

The class was silent from the event. Their Friend has been lying to them for months, had taken advantage of their kindness.

Marinette watched Nino comfort Alya, her face unreadable.

“Hey.” It was Adrien’s voice. Marinette turned to him.

“Hey yourself.”

“You planned this whole thing, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t plan Mrs Rossi to come at first. I was just going to ask Jagged to make a surprise visit.” And expose her for not knowing the rock star at all.

Marinette held Adrien’s gaze. She would not regret her actions. Lila had gotten her expelled, had gotten Kagami akumatized, and was a downright bully.

“Good.”

Marinette startled. She did not expect that answer.

Adrien rubbed his neck, “After she framed you, I made a deal with the devil. Either she got you back in school, or I end our friendship.”

Marinette felt a smile tug on her mouth. “You couldn’t find a way to prove she was lying either?”

Adrien shrugged. “I admit she is a master at lying, so I refused to play that game with her. I’ve been hoping she would slip up but that didn’t happen at all.”

Marinette grinned now. She kissed Adrien’s cheek on her tiptoes. “Well, thank you for helping me get back into school.”

Adrien cheeks were red. So cute. He stuck his hands out. In them was a worn sketchbook. “Merry Christmas Marinette, from your secret Santa.”

Marinette was the one blushing now. “You mean...you were secret my present? I mean, you were my Secret Santa?”

Adrien smiled softly at Marinette. “I was really happy to be the secret Santa for our Everyday Ladybug.”

Marinette’s smile was painfully wide now. She took the offered sketchbook, opened it, and saw rough sketches of outdated clothing. Wrinkling her brow, Marinette flipped through the pages, wondering why Adrien was giving her this.

Then she came to a certain page and saw a certain signature.

The shrill scream she emitted was louder than Chloe’s.

“An original Gabriel Agreste sketchbook?” Marinette looked at the old thing like it was the holy grail.

Adrien laughed. “Yeah, he didn’t mind giving it up. Of course, I had to find it in the attic first but the effort seems well worth it, given your reaction.”

Marinette took a deep breath, regaining control of herself. She looked up at Adrien again and, before her nerve failed her, asked, “Would you like to grab hot chocolate with me?”

Adrien beamed. “Nothing would make me happier.”

They walked out.

The class was left staring after them. In the previous silence, they heard the entire conversation. Marinette had been right all along and she had been a victim of Lila’s. Only Adrien successfully helped her get back to school.

Alya sobbed, guilt eating her alive. She was a terrible Best Friend.

The others were feeling horrible too. How could they ever make it up to her?

Nino took charge. He consoled Alya but said in a loud voice for them all to hear, “We’ll make it up to her. Someday.”

The rest nodded. Only Chloe was somehow silent before they realized that Alix had knocked her out when the blond looked like she was going to start screeching at Marinette for asking Adrien out.

Cue Sabrina starting to wake her BFF up.

Caline returns and informs the class that Lila has gone home. She does not mention the punishments the liar had gotten but insists they continue the Santa Claus event.

when school reopens, Lila is revealed to have been expelled.

Before that, Alya and everyone else but Chloe apologies to Marinette. She forgives them all.

Marinette finally breaks down the spite behind her gifts to Alya. Her BFF is so proud and even shrieks when Marinette admits her hot chocolate Friend-date yesterday ended in a mistletoe kiss.

Adrien meanwhile has a dreamy, rosy look on his face and doesn’t respond when Nino waves his hand up and down in front of him.

I kind of feel bad that their Christmas Eve was ruined, but oh well. For the record, the hair ribbons are costly because they use real silk and Swarovski crystals, but Adrien didn’t spend a dime on them because he just got them from free since their are Gabriel accessories. Gabriel doesn’t care.

For the record, Adrien’s secret Santa was Max. Lila gave pink stuff to Rose.

[aion-rsa]

The Losers: Chris Evans, Idris Elba and Zoe Saldana’s Forgotten Superhero Movie

https://ift.tt/3CsNhNU

Even The Losers get lucky sometimes. Before the DCEU was formed to compete against the ever-expanding, cash cow that is the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the approach at Warner Bros. was far looser. With the booming business of comic book adaptations in full swing, the studio was throwing money at several eclectic comic book titles like Watchmen and Jonah Hex, trying to stay competitive and seemingly more adult than their rivals. Hence before leaving to create his own superhero project, Hancock, wrier-director Peter Berg started penning an adaptation of DC/Vertigo’s The Losers, bringing in French director Sylvain White to helm the picture.

Produced by Joel Silver, The Losers centered on a team of elite, black-ops Special Forces operatives betrayed by their handler. Director White connected with the material immediately. 

“What appealed to me about The Losers was that it wasn’t the typical superhero-with-superpowers thing,” White told MTV. “It was based on real characters—realistic characters—and based in reality, like a lot of the European graphic novels that I had grown up reading.” The director worked with creators Jock and Andy Diggle to refine the script and lend their expertise with design to give the film a distinct visual palette that changes with new locations.

Frequent Silver collaborator Idris Elba was cast as Captain William Roque, with the cast being rounded out by Jeffrey Dean Morgan, coming off his turn as The Comedian in the studio’s adaptation of Watchmen, Zoe Saldana, fresh off of starring in the highest-grossing film of all-time, Avatar, Chris Evans, still mainly known for playing the Human Torch in Fox’s early Fantastic Four films, and rising actor Columbus Short. While current audiences would go on to become intimately familiar with most of this cast, their names didn’t generate enough buzz in 2010 to get folks into the theater. The Losers only made about $30 million on a $25 million budget.

Of course a tepid response at the box office does not mean that a movie is destined for obscurity. Just recently hitting Netflix and ready to capitalize off its now A-list cast, The Losers is currently the most popular film on the streaming service. Besides the even greater interest in comic book properties, the cast of The Losers have gone on to such success that they revitalized interest in one of DC’s almost-forgotten adaptations. Let’s look at where the cast of The Losers have been since the film’s release in 2010 to explain the sudden spike in love.

Idris Elba

While Elba, a star of British television via Luther, had already made an impression with American audiences by 2010 thanks to 28 Weeks Later, Guy Ritchie’s RocknRolla, and a guest stint on The Office, Elba’s star would rise considerably after his appearance in The Losers. In 2011, Elba would join the MCU as Heimdall in Thor, who’s role in the Thor films would expand as the franchise progressed. Elba would also pop up in prominent roles in blockbusters like Prometheus, Pacific Rim, The Jungle Book, and Star Trek Beyond. Away from blockbusters though he really broke out with a SAG-winning performance in Beasts of No Nations, and starring in fare like Aaron Sorkin’s Molly’s Game.

More recently, Elba stole scenes away from Jason Statham and Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson as the villain in Fast & Furious: Hobbs and Shaw. Finally, things have come a bit full circle for Elba, as he’s set to appear in another DC adaptation over 10 years after The Losers, portraying Bloodsport in James Gunn’s The Suicide Squad.

Jeffrey Dean Morgan

In 2010, Jeffrey Dean Morgan was probably most well-known for his roles on television in series like Supernatural and Grey’s Anatomy. That all changed after Morgan was cast in an adaptation of the “unfilmable” graphic novel Watchmen as The Comedian. While his time onscreen in the Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons adaptation was minimal, bringing such an iconic comic book character to life earned Morgan a deeper cachet with the Comic-Con crowd. Morgan would work steadily in films like The Possession and the Red Dawn remake, but he arguably made a bigger impact on television portraying yet another iconic comic book character on AMC’s The Walking Dead, Negan.

Read more

Movies

Avatar Sequels Recruit Vin Diesel for Mystery Role

By Kirsten Howard

Movies

How The Suicide Squad is Different from Guardians of the Galaxy

By Mike Cecchini

Morgan received critical acclaim for his portrayal of the villainous Negan upon his debut, earning the Critics’ Choice Television Award for Best Guest Performer in a Drama Series, MTV Movie and TV Award for Best Villain, and Saturn Award for Best Guest Starring Role on Television. He’s been going steady as Negan since while doing other occasional comic-con friendly projects like Rampage.

Zoe Saldana

Zoe Saldana was on top of the world in 2010, and in the time since, she’s only become more successful. After appearing in the buzzy Star Trek reboot in 2009 and a little film called Avatar, the former Center Stage star would go on to headline her own action film Colombiana. However, that would seem like small potatoes compared to what would come in 2014. Saldana was cast as Gamora in Guardians of the Galaxy, Marvel’s riskiest adaptation to date. Would audiences get onboard with an off-beat space opera featuring C-tier Marvel characters? Turns out, yes. Gamora not only became the heart of the Guardians, but the character would feature prominently in the grand Phase 3 finales Avengers: Infinity War and Avengers: Endgame.

In the shadow of that, Saldana has starred in more Star Trek sequels, an ill-advised TV remake of Rosemary’s Baby, and as Nina Simone in in Nina, a performance did come under fire for due to the lightness of her skin. Still, Saldana now has leading roles in the two highest grossing films of all-time, and is still expected to star in Guardians and Avatar sequels. Not too shabby.

Chris Evans

Speaking of the MCU, Chris Evans wasn’t floundering in 2010, but he did seem to be stuck in a bit of a rut, typecast as handsome smart alecks prior to The Losers. In fact, his big mainstream break is probably the less than classic spoof comedy, Not Another Teen Movie (2001); afterward he played Johnny Storm in Tim Story’s lukewarm Fantastic Four movies in the mid-2000s; in fact, arguably his most amusing role up to 2010 was when he appeared as a douchebag movie star in Edgar Wright’s genre-bending comedy, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (2010).

Read more

Movies

Knives Out: When Murder Makes You a Better Person

By Natalie Zutter

Movies

$400 Million Knives Out 2 Deal Gives Netflix Major Movie Franchise

By David Crow

That said, The Losers found him playing against type as an awkward tech expert. Perhaps his chance to show a different side of himself led to his life-changing role as Steve Rogers in the MCU’s Captain America. Anchoring the Avengers franchise for eight years, Chris Evans rose to the top of the A-list, and used that newfound celebrity to help get passion projects like Bong Joon-ho’s Snowpiercer and Rian Johnson’s Knives Out made. Evans is one of the most popular celebrities on social media right now and looks to continue his profitable relationship with Disney by voicing Buzz Lightyear in the animated origin film, Lightyear. 

Columbus Short

Perhaps the only member of the cast not to launch into the stratosphere after The Losers, Columbus Short has had a few issues that have prevented his rise. Short booked a role on the popular ABC series Scandal, but personal issues derailed his involvement in the show. In 2014, as part of a no-jail plea agreement, Short pled guilty to misdemeanor domestic violence and performed 30 hours of community service. Short also avoided jail by pleading no contest to a felony assault charge after throwing “a running punch” at his in-law during a family gathering at a bar.

In an interview with Access Hollywood Live, Short shared that substance abuse due to the stress of family issues and personal loss had led to his departure from Scandal. However, Short has appeared to move past his personal struggles and can next been seen portraying Martin Luther King Jr. in Remember Me: The Mahalia Jackson Storyand returning as Quadir Richards in True to the Game 3. 

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

The post The Losers: Chris Evans, Idris Elba and Zoe Saldana’s Forgotten Superhero Movie appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3lwQGVL

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Stark’s New Intern” Chapter 20

"Welcome to your life There's no turning back Even while we sleep We will find you acting on your best behavior Turn your back on mother nature Everybody wants to rule the world

It's my own design It's my own remorse Help me to decide Help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure Nothing ever lasts forever Everybody wants to rule the world"

Tears For Fears – "Everybody Wants to Rule The World"

Erik watched Maria down a shot of tequila and squeeze a sliced lime into her mouth. He sipped on a glass of ginger beer and watched the festivities aboard Le Sirene, Stark's 456-foot-long custom-built yacht. Scalloped sides, silver and turquoise accents and large glass facades gave panoramic views inside the interior. Sailing off the coast of Malibu, the balmy air and fresh smell of seawater relaxed Erik.

Stark spared no expense to wine and dine the interns. Everyone around Erik were in various states of good humor, ecstatic thoughts of the future, and varying degrees of sobriety.

Athena accepted a job with a completely different company in Paris.

Giselle would start a mid-level position in Stark's New York offices.

Valentina accepted a generous package with Stark in Los Angeles under the thumb of Janine.

And Maria…she had two top Stark Industries choices. Stay in Los Angeles with Valentina, or take an opportunity to work for Stark in D.C.

Only fifteen percent of the interns were offered jobs with Stark. The fact that all off his female friends received the careers they worked so hard for pleased Erik to no end. He was also looking forward to being right next to Tony. As soon as Happy from security gave him his new clearance, Erik had access to offices and buildings within the Stark sphere of influence.

Once he was removed from the interns, Erik spent two weeks shadowing Pepper Potts. She informed him that she would guide his transition into more of a junior assistant role. Erik liked Pepper's directness. She wasn't a fun person to hang around. Her tight lips and tight ass personality hid a core rooted in needing to keep the world around her extremely organized. Erik recognized the signs of obsessive behavior. He had it too.

Pepper was easy to read and she seemed to be irritated with Erik's relaxed stance around Stark. She dug into him during a lunch meeting the two of them shared.

"You need to be the one to keep Tony grounded. He's really just a big kid in a candy store and even though he is brilliant, he is also very brash. Impulsive. The key to doing the job right is to keep the riff-raff away from him and make sure he stays focused on the task at hand. He doesn't need another sycophant. Everyone wants a piece of him, so don't be afraid to be rude or abrupt. You and I will be in direct contact and I will be in charge of your itinerary with Stark daily. Any changes that need to be made go through me first."

Pepper always regarded him with a bit of detachment and triple-checked his work often. After two weeks of realizing that Erik was more than capable of handling Tony as her junior, she let up a bit. Just a tiny bit. Erik had to adjust to how he would stomach those other looks she gave him. Looks that always made it seem like she pondered how he was in Tony's orbit. This Black kid with the genius I.Q. and Oakland attitude. So many overly pedigreed interns and Stark chose Erik above all of them. A guy not even out of his teens yet.

Erik also learned another little tidbit about Pepper.

She was annoyed with Devika.

Maybe not annoyed…more like jealous.

The two women maneuvered around each other professionally. But more than once, Erik caught Pepper giving Devika catty looks when she was in Stark's inner office. This piqued Erik's curiosity even more, making him want to know what type of relationship Devika really had with Tony. It made Erik's stomach hurt sometimes to think that his boss had been with his girl in that way.

His girl.

Erik's eyes swept over to the open bar on the yacht's third deck as Devika picked up a champagne flute and tipped the glass against one of the female interns next to her. Prior to coming on board the luxury boat, Erik spent the afternoon with Devika at a café looking for an apartment for him. A basic one-bedroom in a decent neighborhood close to work was averaging three thousand a month.

Money wasn't a problem. Stark made good and gifted Erik with a hefty players fee from the poker game. Erik sent portions of his winnings to his relatives and banked the rest. He could afford a fancy apartment or even a condo himself if he wanted. But spending the night with Devika made him want one thing: to be with her.

He whined to her about having to spend a grip of money in a hotel and hinted that he would look for a roommate situation to ease him into a new living situation. He already had his belongings in her apartment and they were now sharing a bed. He wanted to stay with her during his fellowship. But she was concerned about Tony finding out about them. He was too chickenshit to ask outright if he could live with her hoping she would suggest the idea herself. She didn't.

Erik watched Pepper approach Devika and as the two women spoke to one another, he moved to the other side searching for the man himself. Jazzy tunes were piped in throughout the yacht and Erik tried to go where he last saw Tony.

A wet kiss on his cheek caught him off guard and Giselle's face came into view as she slid around him.

"You're real quiet tonight. Everything okay?" she asked.

"I'm good. Just looking for Boss Man."

"I never got a chance to properly congratulate you on your fellowship. Stark was right about you. From Day One. You were the man to beat."

"You haven't done so bad yourself."

"New York, baby!" Giselle squealed. She closed her eyes and did a little happy dance, "They loved my work with the Expo and I was a good fit for his team out there. I am over the fucking moon. I am going to kill out there."

Her eyes glinted with endless possibilities and Erik caught a glimpse of Tony walking toward him.

"Stevens."

Giselle slipped away from him to join a raucous group dancing in an open space. Tony handed Erik a glass of champagne.

"You missed my grand going away speech," Tony said.

"No, I heard it. I was just up here. Taking it all in."

"This is just one of the many perks of doing what I do. Showing appreciation for everyone giving their best."

"Do you ever get bored with it? I mean, all this," Erik said glancing around at the grandeur and all the decadence.

"Not really. When I was younger, I used to get bored…not with the money, but with the same packs of roving cliques. Money is never boring. Rich people? Yes. Money? Never. I just learned how to spend my money well and surround myself with interesting characters."

Erik drank from his glass and Tony moved closer to him.

"Pepper says you are ready for the big leagues. It's going to be quite a shift from being an intern."

"I can handle it."

Erik followed Tony around the ship, and as the night progressed, he longed to be alone with Devika and just watch a corny movie. She flitted around, and the yearning grew in his heart. It was a new feeling for him. Wanting a one on one. Athena and Giselle were open to him having a goodbye tryst with them, but he wasn't interested, and that shocked him. Turning down exceptional pussy? An abomination in his previous life, but now…

The black sheath dress Devika wore shimmered with tiny crystals at the hem. And she wore the heels that he loved fucking her in. Her hair was tucked into a loose bun on her head and she decorated her forehead with three dark green bindis. He followed her to the starboard side of the yacht and her eyes looked startled to see him come upon her as she stared at the dark water below them.

"Hey," he said, allowing his shoulder to bump into hers.

"Hi."

"You look nice."

"Thanks," she said. Her eyes darted behind him to make sure they weren't being watched.

"I'm on my best behavior, don't trip," he said giving up a bit of space between them.

"I needed a little break from the action," she whispered, folding her hands on the railing she leaned on.

"Pepper and you have been chatty Cathy's."

Devika's eyes narrowed at the sound of Pepper's name.

"Devika, be honest with me. Did you and Tony-?"

"No."

Her tone was curt. But her eyes were soft.

"I didn't cross the line with him. Not all the way. I was…I was really young when I took this job. I was also really good at it. Tony took a shine to me, but it was just an excellent working relationship in the beginning. But shit happens. Late hours. Last-minute trips to exotic places. Billionaire crowd. Working for him is both surreal and astounding at times. The people that he has on speed dial? You would be shocked at who I have called up out of the blue for him."

She took a deep breath and exhaled.

"I had a huge crush on him and he has always been attracted to me. We've had dinners together that had nothing to do with work. There have been times when I could've allowed us to cross the line, and I didn't. Then I met my fiancé and my life changed. Pepper is in love with Tony, and she hates that he still feels something for me even though there is nothing between us."

She turned and looked at Erik.

"I had an emotional connection to Tony and I ended it for the sake of my career. My dignity too, I guess. I look at Tony as a boss and a friend. Pepper hasn't found a balance for her feelings, and we sometimes butt heads."

"Does he still want something with you?"

"I don't think so. He was happy when I first got engaged. Maybe it was a relief for him."

"Does he feel anything for Pepper?"

"I don't think so. She treats him like a child. It annoys him a lot. I think it's why he blows her off a lot. But she is good at what she does so he puts up with her scolding. What's it like for you working with her?"

Erik looked out at the water and gripped the railing with his hands.

"Annoying as fuck. But I'm used to people like her. She doesn't like that I'm not invested in the gig as much as she thinks I should be."

"If you're not invested, why do it? You should go to M.I.T."

Her words made his chest hurt.

"You don't want me around?"

"This has nothing to do with me. God, I hope you didn't take the job just to be around me."

She laughed but then stopped when his face stayed neutral.

"Erik, seriously, you took the job for your future career, right?"

"I have a lot of reasons to take it. You were part of it too."

"Oh…Erik…"

Her eyes dropped away from his.

"Devika…"

"You have to make life choices that benefit you and your dreams."

"I'm still figuring that out, but you're a big perk."

She reached out and rubbed his arm.

"You are so sweet."

"I'm not trying to be sweet, Devika. I'm tryna be your man."

The words not only shocked her, but they made him tumble back from the railing. The champagne had him loose-lipped. Too loose.

Her eyes regarded him with quiet understanding.

"So sweet," she said.

He watched her lean away from him as if she were leaving him. He grabbed for her hand and pulled her toward him.

"You heard what I said, right?" he asked.

"I did."

"You like me, right?"

"I do."

"I wanna be with you. Not just friends."

"We should slow down."

"What?"

His neck tilted to the side.

Hours earlier they had been in her bed and she had whispered crazy things in his ear that made him feel invincible and so grown up. Was she playing him for good dick?

Two weeks of sharing her home together, making him feel like they were a legit couple, and she was standing there telling him they should slow down. He tasted sour spit in his mouth and the muscles in his stomach felt tight.

"You need to focus all your energy on being the best you in your new position. Don't get caught up with me and lose track of your future."

"Caught up?"

He could barely get the words out of his throat. Her words sounded like she was patting him on his head like he was a cute puppy that she no longer wanted to play with. He felt his lower lip tremble and he stepped further away from her.

"Erik…"

"I gotta get back to Stark. I'll see you later."

He felt a little wobbly as he searched for Tony. Once he found him, he stayed by the man's side and finished the evening on his motorcycle by the pier the yacht was docked at. Instead of returning to Devika's condo, he took a room at a Hilton hotel and drank up the liquor inside the minibar.

His cell phone rang and when he checked it, Devika left several messages for him. He called her back at three in the morning after a good hour of sleep.

"Where are you?"

"A hotel. West Hollywood."

"Why?"

"Why? You told me not to get caught up—"

"Erik, you know what I meant."

"I heard what you said."

"Come back here."

"Why should I?"

"Let's talk—"

"We're talking now—"

"Get over here."

"Why?"

"I want you here. Your stuff is here."

"I'll get my stuff later."

"What I said to you earlier…I wasn't trying to be mean. I was being honest with you."

"I don't want to slow down."

He could hear an exasperated sigh in her voice.

"Erik, I'm trying to make you see what I wish someone had told me when I was younger. I'm not trying to hurt you."

"I want to be with you. We get along. You know that. Tony won't find out about us—"

"We need to talk in person—"

"It's late. I'll come over when I check out."

He hung up.

Lying on the hotel bed nude, he stared at the walls.

An hour ticked by.

"Fuck."

He jumped up and put back on his silk shirt and slacks. Throwing on his dark biker's jacket and helmet, he hopped on his motorcycle and roared out of the hotel parking lot.

The highway was quiet as the sky lightened. When he reached Devika's condo, the pink and orange morning glow made him feel easier in the chest.

She answered the door after his third knock dressed in one of his sweatshirts and nothing else.

"Let's talk," he said.

She nodded and he leaned forward to kiss her lips. Her mouth was eager to have his and they took their time with slow drawn out smooching in the doorway. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Suckling his tongue, Devika made him feel that what he needed most was for her to be in his corner. He held onto her ass cheeks to keep her pressed against him, and when she finally released his lips, he had her panting. He slipped a finger down her ass and let it rest against the cotton of her underwear. He could feel how damp she was, her slick saturating the panties. He rested his forehead on hers.

"Tell me your mine," he whispered.

She traced the fingers of her right hand across the back of his scalp sending tingles up his back. His lips touched her lips again and he looked into her eyes.

"Tell me," he demanded.

He walked into her condo with her still wrapped around him and kicked the door closed.

"I'm your man. Say it."

The bass in his voice made her eyes widen. He sent his fingers down into her panties and stroked her swollen vulva.

"Devika, say it…."

He unfastened his pants and pulled them down with his underwear.

"Devika."

Sliding her sticky panties to the side, Erik lifted her up and guided his dick inside of her. She whimpered as he fucked her standing up, her face pressed against his face, her arms laced around his neck.

The squelching sounds coming from her pussy made Erik give her hard strokes as he lifted her up and down his stiffness. She still wouldn't answer him and just gave his ears thrilling moans and yelps from the pleasure he gave her.

His calves began to strain from standing in one place and holding her weight so he spun around and jammed her up against the door. Pressing her into the solid wood, he drilled into her hard and fast, his aggression needing release. She refused to give him what he wanted and it aggravated him.

"Devika…"

"Erik!" she screamed.

Her eyes rolled back in her head and he felt her pussy contract up and down his dick. He reached up and grabbed her throat, his fingers squeezing and pushing her head back. The throbbing in his dick made his back hunch up.

"I want you!" he shouted releasing into her, his head dropping onto her chest as his legs trembled.

He groaned when he felt another sudden wave of semen spurt into her and it made him drop her down to her feet. He faced her with wrinkled clothes and semen still dripping from his tip. He kicked his feet out of his pants and Devika took his right hand and led him to her bedroom.

They made love until Erik was too exhausted to do anything more than stroke her hair as he held her in his arms.

The unspoken was made manifest.

He was going to live with her and she let be known by her loving that she belonged to him.

The world at that moment was his.

Chapter 21 HERE.

###

Tag List:

@fd-writes​​ @soufcakmistress​  @cherrystainedlipsbaby​  

@tclaybon  @thadelightfulone​

@allhailqueennel​ @bartierbakarimobisson @cpwtwot​ @shookmcgookqueen @yoyolovesbucky​

@raysunshine78​ @the-illlestt​ @terrablaze514​  @l-auteuse​ @amirra88​ @jimizwidow​  @janelledarling​

@chaneajoyyy​  @sweetestdream92  @purple-apricots​  @blackpinup22​  @hennessystevens-udaku​

@scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade​ @bugngiz​ @stariamrry​  @honeytoffee​ @meilintheempressofdreams​

@tyees​  @eye-raq​  @writerbee-ffs​  @chocolatedream30​  @childishgambinaa​  @mygirlrenee​  @thewaysheis—awkward

[bellemorte180]

Wanderlust Chapter Three:

Wanderlust Chapter Three

The Salvatore Boarding House was massive. It had an old family money vibe that made Klaus scowl. It was obnoxiously large and scaled across an impressive amount of land. It looked as though it was built in a Tudor style and would fit more in the English countryside than in the middle of Virginia. It was built almost on a curve and had a large roundabout driveway; with a patch of greenery in the center. It was nestled back into the trees and had a long private drive that took Marcel and Klaus at least five minutes to drive up.

Whichever of the Salvatore ancestors wanted to build this home clearly wanted to flaunt their wealth. The closer they approached; Klaus could make out a few stained-glass windows, impressive lawn decor and a garden that Klaus would bet neither of the Salvatore brothers actually cared for. The house was constructed with dusty red bricks, wooden beams and off-white plaster that had intricate wooden designs that were meant for nothing more than to give the home a superior feel. The home itself screamed wealth and privilege.

It wasn’t that wealth or privilege made Klaus uncomfortable, given his own background, it was just he understood perfectly what went on behind closed doors. He knew how superiority always came with those who accumulated a large amount of wealth and the destruction that caused. Men who were born into a life where everything was handed to them, they assumed they owned everything; even people. Homes like the Salvatore Boarding house always reminded Klaus of his father; and that was a memory he craved to forget.

Marcel gave a humorless laugh as the house came into view. Klaus smirked at his partner, understanding the sentiment. Marcel came from nothing; raised in extreme poverty by a mother who did not even name him until he was two years old. He worked for everything he had from the ground up. He received full ride to college simply because he pushed himself in his teenage years. Excelled at the FBI academy and let nothing stand in his way. It was something Klaus admired about him; hard work and loyalty.

“Let me guess, the house makes you feel right at home?” Marcel ribbed him, causing Klaus to roll his grey-blue eyes at him. The second Marcel learned that Klaus had a trust fund stowed away doing nothing but collecting interest, Marcel could not help but tease him. Never once did his partner ask why Klaus never touched it or why he didn’t just turn it over to his siblings. “Did the manor your parents owned rival this one?”

“No.” Klaus turned and smirked at Marcel. “It was bigger.” That caused Marcel to laugh and clap his hands in applause. It was a running joke between them; ribbing on their difference in circumstances. To outsiders, it was cold and harsh but the two had a comfortable understanding with one another that they rarely felt insulted by the remarks. “Well, let’s get this over with.”

The two agents stepped out of the black SUV and walked towards the front door. It was an intimidating door with an obnoxious door knocker; clearly only there for show. Marcel just pointed at it with a slight laugh and Klaus could do nothing but roll his eyes again. He reached out and ran the doorbell that was on the side of the house; he could tell that Marcel was tempted to use the knocker for nothing more than pure amusement.

It took several minutes but when the door opened, it was most definitely not Damon. Elena opened the door and her eyes widened at the sight of both Klaus and Marcel; her eyes doing a double take when she landed on Klaus. From the records that Klaus pulled, as far as they knew, Damon lived alone in this massive house but in the back of his mind, he remembered Caroline mentioning that Elena was engaged to be married to Damon’s brother.

“Elena, who is at the door?” A man who did not match the driver’s license photo they pulled of Damon asked. He was medium height, shorter than Klaus, and had light brown hair. He was clean shaven and wore a simple pair of jeans and a light blue cotton shirt. He came up behind Elena and held out his hand. “Stefan Salvatore.”

“Special Agent Marcel Gerard.” Marcel replied grasping Stefan’s hand. “And this is my partner, Special Agent Klaus Mikaelson. We were hoping to speak to Damon.” Neither Stefan nor Elena looked surprised that they wished to speak with Damon. A looked passed between the engaged couple but they nodded. Elena stepped aside and allowed them to enter.

The interior of the house was everything Klaus expected it to be. Large, grand and outdated. It had high ceilings with wooden beams across the top. Old tapestries hung on the walls and carpets that reminded Klaus of medieval times rested on the hard wood flooring. A large fireplace stood on the far wall and a chandelier that held candles instead of real lights hung from the ceiling.

The home told Klaus that the Salvatores wanted to flaunt their wealth, but not actually live there.

“If you want to have a seat, I’ll go and grab Damon.” Stefan replied and Marcel gave him a gracious smile while Klaus strolled across the room; looking at everything he could fine. This was the typical roles they played when questioning a suspect together. Marcel played the charming gentleman while Klaus played the bad guy; the one who put the fear of god in their suspects.

“Can I get either of you something to drink?” Elena asked with a polite smile, but her gaze kept flickering between the two of them. She appeared uneasy as though she was hiding something, and it made Klaus suspicious of her. He already had a low opinion of her just on the little he knew about her but there was something more to her than what Klaus could see.

“No.” Klaus replied in a blunt and brisk tone; causing Marcel to turn his gaze towards him, but Klaus ignored him. “Have you spoken to Caroline today?”

“No. Not since yesterday.” Elena stated and a worried look appeared on her face. “Why? Is she okay?”

“As far as I know, she is fine. I just assumed you would have gone to see her, that is all.” Klaus replied but said no more when Stefan returned with Damon; who was a just as he pictured. He had jet black hair, ice blue eyes and dressed as though he wanted the world to know he was the bad guy; tight jeans, black shirt and if it wasn’t in the middle of summer, Klaus would assume a leather jacket would be slung over his shoulder. “Damon Salvatore, I presume?”

“The one and only.” There was a snark in his voice that Klaus found irritating. He just grinned at Damon, trying to push down his already horrible opinion of him. He knew that this was the man who had put Caroline in the hospital nearly a decade earlier and Klaus had this urge to avenge that wrong against her. He couldn’t; not without proof he was the one who committing these murders.

“We were hoping to speak to you about Andi Star.” Marcel asked politely, making it very clear that Stefan and Elena needed to leave the room. Stefan smiled politely and took Elena’s hand, pulling her somewhere else in the house. “We won’t take much of your time.”

Marcel pointed to Damon’s couch and Klaus could not help but notice how Damon’s smirk faltered ever so slightly at Marcel asking him to sit in his own home. However, Damon followed the directions and took a seat. Marcel sat across from him, but Klaus continued to survey the room, never directly looking at Damon. The goal was to unnerve him, making him distracted and hopefully make him slip up.

“From what we understand you were in a relationship with Ms. Star?” Marcel asked politely, flashing him that winning southern smile.

“Yes and no. Andi and I were…. complicated.” Damon replied but neither Klaus nor Marcel spoke. Klaus walked over to a painting that had to be older than all of them combined. Klaus had the urge to touch it, just to see if it would provoke a response but he refrained; it was too early in the questioning to use such tactics. It was unwise to riel him to immediately. Marcel held Damon’s gaze, clearly waiting for him to elaborate. “I lived here. She lived in Charleston. We never were serious when she first moved down there, roughly eight years ago? It was an on again, off again type of relationship. On when she was in town. Off when she wasn’t.”

“It ended at Christmas?” Marcel asked.

“Yes.” Damon agreed. “She wanted to take things to the next level. She wanted me to move to Charleston. My life is here.” Damon’s eyes continued to follow Klaus, who was still pacing around the room. “I own the Mystic Grill and a few other establishments. I can’t just close up shop and relocate. Andi wasn’t willing to move here. The only logical conclusion was to end things.”

“But you went to Charleston when she went missing? Only a few days later?” Marcel asked, and Damon refocused on the other agent. He seemed taken aback. “Our field office in South Carolina faxed over the case file about her disappearance. You drove six hours when she went missing. The police questioned you on her disappearance for two days.”

“Which I had nothing to do with.” Damon snapped. “They let me go and I helped the search party look for her.” Klaus gave a small smirk at his irritated tone, something Damon noticed but wasn’t foolish enough to comment on. “Look, just because we ended things does not mean I did not care for her. I did not have anything to do with her murder.”

“What about the restraining orders?” Klaus asked, speaking for the first time since they were introduced. He was standing directly behind Marcel, admiring an old vase that he was not really seeing. He picked it up slightly before placing it back down. “In the last four years she had filed no less than three restraining orders against you. She claimed that you liked to get rough with her during arguments.”

“She dropped those.” Damon replied undisturbed. He had been expecting this line of questioning, having been subjugated to them during the investigation into Andi’s disappearance. “We fought like cats and dogs, but I never hurt her. I was just as devastated to learn about her disappearance….and when they found her body.”

“What about Vicki Donovan?”

“What?”

“According to her brother, you and Ms. Donovan spent some time together.” Marcel clarified and Damon was taken aback. Klaus moved from his spot at the table and moved to look at the window, gazing into the vast backyard. It was manicured to the point that it had to have a groundskeeper; Klaus made a note to check on everyone Damon employed. “And according to her work history, she worked for you also.”

“I didn’t realize Matt knew that Vicki and I had been together.” Damon muttered. “Yes. Vicki and I had sex. It was only a few times but that ended just as quickly as it started. It was fun for both of us and nothing more. What can I say? I get around.” Damon’s tone sounded proud at the fact that he liked sleeping with multiple woman, including his employees.

“And is that why you fired her? Because she stopped sleeping with you?” Klaus asked from the window, not bothering to look at him or move away from it. However, the window was placed that Klaus could see Damon’s reflection in it. He could see how Damon narrowed his eyes just slightly enough to show is irritation at Klaus. Damon did not like Klaus and that pleased him.

“I fired her because she kept getting high on the job.”

“Was she getting high when you slept with her?”

“I don’t like what you’re insinuating.”

“And what is that Mr. Salvatore?” Klaus asked, turning from the window. When Damon did not reply, Klaus moved over to the sofa and sat down on its arm. He made himself comfortable and gazed at Damon for the first time; his glower piercing directly through the other man. “Tell me, do you like to get high? Perhaps on heroin, speed, maybe prescription medication? Say Dilaudid?”

“Not my poison.” Damon snapped. Gone was his smart smirk and cocky attitude. Klaus could tell that he was not going to tell them anything; but they knew that going in. The goal was to unnerve him enough to have him make a mistake. Learn what he was hiding. “I’m a bourbon man myself. I have no need to inject my veins to feel good.”

“And what about Caroline? Did you make her feel good when you put her in the hospital during your relationship?” Klaus asked, his gaze unflinching. Damon said nothing but glared at Klaus. “According to your arrest history and Caroline’s own words, you beat her to the point that she was hospitalized for several days. Tell me, what kind of man lays a hand on a woman? A weak one?”

“You know nothing about my relationship with Caroline. She was nothing more than a vapid little twit in her teenage years and those charges were bogus. If her mother was not the Sheriff, I wouldn’t have been charged with anything at all.”

“Where were you on June 5th? The night of her disappearance?” Marcel asked.

“Here.”

“With who?” Klaus chimed in; unflinching at the heated stare that Damon was throwing his way. Klaus had stared down monsters far eviler than the man before him. Klaus could break him in two if he desired; which he did, he just knew he couldn’t.

“I was alone.”

“How convenient. No woman in your bed to make you feel good?”

“Yeah, well it was a dry night.” Damon snapped back. “Look, I had nothing to do with Caroline’s kidnapping and despite our differences, I’m glad she is okay. I did not hurt her, and I most certainly did not kill Andi or Vicki, or those other women. I had nothing to do with this and I suggest that the next time you want to speak with me, I want to have my lawyer present.”

“Very well. Thank you for your time Mr. Salvatore.” Marcel replied, standing from the sofa but Damon paid him no mind; his eyes focusing directly on Klaus. Klaus did not move from his spot but returned Damon’s gaze; appearing unimpressed and almost bored. After a moment, Klaus gave a humorless chuckle and stood.

“Don’t leave town.” With that Klaus brushed past Damon and strolled toward the door. Marcel was only paces behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Stefan and Elena lingering near the stairwell. Both Marcel and Klaus knew that they would be listening, and he could see their uneasiness; their line of questioning having its effect.

“Dick.” Klaus paused at the sound of Damon’s voice. His teeth ground together, and his shoulders tensed. He wanted nothing more than to turn around and break the man. Caroline’s bruised body flashed before his eyes and he almost did spin around to face the man, however, he felt Marcel’s hand on his shoulder, ushering him forward and out the door. Walking out into the sunlight did nothing for Klaus’s temper; if anything, seeing the underserving wealth blatantly flaunted before him and knowing who it belonged to made Klaus furious.

“Agents! Wait.” They were by their SUV when they saw Stefan running after them. He appeared almost as frustrated as Klaus felt. “I apologize for my brother. Damon on his good days is impulsive. Andi’s death really rattled him but there is no way he was involved with it, or any of this.”

“And what of his violent history? Andi filed three restraining orders against him, claiming abuse and he put Caroline in the hospital during their relationship?” Marcel told him gently. Stefan closed his eyes and shook his head. Both of the agents could tell that Stefan had a long history of having to clean up after his older brother.

“I did not know that Andi filed anything against Damon. He has gotten help. Therapy on and off for years to deal with what happened with Caroline.” Stefan stated and Klaus believed him. “At the time that they were together, all of us, Elena, Bonnie and myself tried to get her out of it the moment we knew something was off about it. She didn’t listen.”

“So, it was her fault?” Klaus hissed out through clenched teeth.

“What? No. Of course not but we tried everything we could at the time.”

“Not enough clearly.” Klaus replied and Marcel sent him a sharp look. It wasn’t a warning, but his partner was clearly telling him to back down. Klaus pushed his lips together in frustration and tried to get control over his temper. He understood that his questioning of Stefan about Caroline was unfair. He understood how domestic violence worked and if a victim did not want to leave, it was difficult getting her to do so.

“Where were you on June 5th?”

“I had a conference out of town. Chicago. I come home on June 7th.” Stefan replied calmly and Marcel nodded. He pulled out his phone and typed a note into it. Klaus could feel his temper slowly calming down. He glanced back at the house and could see both Damon and Elena standing in the window, whispering to one another. Klaus got the feeling that Elena was not as close of a friend that Caroline painted her to be.

“We will be checking on that.” Marcel muttered and Stefan nodded. Marcel headed towards the driver side of the SUV. Klaus gazed through the window for a few more seconds before getting into the passenger side of the car. Once seated and the door shut, Marcel turned to look at him. “What the hell was that?”

“What?”

“That! Interrogating Stefan about not doing enough to get Caroline out of a situation ten years ago?” Marcel muttered. Klaus didn’t say a word but pursed his lips in irritation. “Look, I get it. Domestic violence is a touchy subject for you given your history and I get that Damon seems to be a right prick, but you can’t blame his brother for something he had no control over. If Caroline did not want to leave, then there was nothing anyone could have done.”

“I know.” Klaus agreed. Marcel nodded and started the car, driving down the long drive. Klaus continued to think on the Salvatore brothers and how they were completely different, and alike in some ways. “I just lost my temper. Damon pushed all the right buttons.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think you pushed his right back.” Marcel stated and that did please Klaus. If Damon felt pressure from the two of them, then perhaps he would make a mistake or reveal something if he is the killer. If he isn’t, then Klaus can at least enjoy that he pissed him off.

The remainder of the drive remained silent back to the station remained silent. The two agents lost in their own thoughts; going over the facts of the case and what theory’s they each were presenting. As Klaus sat at the small round table with coffee in his hand, he couldn’t help but feel as though something obvious was missing. A question staring him right in the face.

“You know, it still amazes me that an uptight British man like yourself prefers coffee over tea.” Marcel replied, teasing him; trying to ease the sour mood he had been in at the Salvatore house. Marcel could tell that he had a growing respect for Caroline and that her experiences touched a part of his past that he hated to discuss; so, Marcel left it alone.

“My brother Elijah shudders at that very notion.” Klaus replied, causing Marcel to laugh. Marcel had met most of Klaus’s family over the years, with the exception of his eldest brother Finn and his wife. Elijah was the definition of a fussy British man. Always dressed to the nines and never had a hair out of place.

“You know, there are times that I wished I had siblings and then I remember yours and it makes me very thankful to be an only child.” Marcel’s voice was light, and Klaus just rolled his eyes; but could not disagree. There were times he wished he was an only child. Especially now that his younger siblings had a tendency to show up at his flat unannounced. “What are you thinking about?”

“Damon Salvatore.” Klaus replied, taking a sip of his coffee. He hated where his train of thought was going but then, he typically did not like how his mind worked while he was on a case. “He is hiding something. I’m not sure what but it is something big. I’m just not sure if it has anything to do with these murders.”

“You don’t think he did it?”

“No.” Klaus said in a low tone. “He is most certainly an asshole and I have no question that he abused Andi when they were together. I believe him when he said that his relationship with Vicki was nothing more than sex. He was her employer and she had a drug problem. She probably thought sleeping with him would let her keep her job and support her habit.” Klaus ran his hands over his face. “Not only that but you got a good look at his arms. Track marks? Of any sign that he used a needle routinely?”

“No scars that indicate that. Although, he could inject between his toes but that’s really only seen in experienced drug users. If that was the case, he probably still would have scars on his arms.” Marcel leaned back in his chair and Klaus could not help but agree with him. “You know, there is something bothering me. How the hell is he getting the drugs? Dilaudid? That is not some common street drug. It’s a schedule two drug and if someone was getting large quantities of it, there would be a record of it somewhere.”

“It’s not just Dilaudid though. It’s the fact that he has it in liquid form. If he was giving them pills, I would believe that he was getting it from someone off the street. However, liquid form is more potent and far more difficult to come by outside of a hospital.” Klaus said as he reached over and picked up Caroline’s hospital records again. “Maybe a medical professional? Someone with access?”

“Possibly.” Marcel’s head tiled back and forth for a second, thoughts rolling through his head. “However, if it was a medical professional and they were taking from the hospital, it would have been noticed. Doesn’t Vincent have a friend at the DEA who might be able to see if Dilaudid has gone missing in the area or if large quantities have been ordered?”

“Davina Claire and I wouldn’t see why not. If it is for a case, Vincent wouldn’t have a problem asking her.” Klaus replied, thinking on Vincent Griffith; the supervisory agent who oversaw the entirety of their department. “Why don’t you call him? He likes you better than me.”

“Everyone likes me better than you.” Marcel joked and Klaus just rolled his eyes, not looking up from Caroline’s records. It was not secret that Vincent and Klaus butted heads and if Klaus was not good at his job, Vincent probably would have had transferred a long time ago. Klaus’s brows pinched together in confusion and flipped through the file Dr. Fell had provided them. “Sure. I’ll give him a call. What is it?”

“Read this.” Klaus handed over Caroline’s medical records. “Right there.”

“And?”

“See right there, Dr. Fell notes that the track marks on Caroline’s arm were poorly done. He missed the vein several times, which caused the bruising on her arm. It looks as though he blew a few veins in her arms. If we look back on the autopsies of the other bodies, I think we would find the same type of marks. If he was a medical professional, the injection would have been clean.”

“So not a medical professional then?” Marcel asked lightly, shaking his head. “then that makes the question on how he got the drugs in the first place even more curious.” He stood from his chair and chugged the remainder of his coffee. “Let me call Griffiths and see if he can work his magic and can get anything from the DEA. You know how they just love sharing information.”

“Bureaucratic bullshit is what it is.” Klaus snorted and Marcel just nodded his head. While Marcel left the conference room to make his call, Klaus rubbed his eyes and leaned back in the uncomfortable chair. Between the case and the uncomfortable bed at the cheap motel they were staying at, sleep was not a friend to Klaus. Although, sleep was not something he had much experience in for the last few years. Memories of every victim he couldn’t save haunted him.

He looked down at his own coffee mug and noting that it was empty. It was awful coffee, but it was better than nothing at all. Scowling, he stood from his chair and walked through the station. He passed the sheriff’s office and noticed that Liz was at her desk, flipping through files. She was back in uniform, looked more rested and made a mental note to send some food over to her when they ordered from the Grill later; seeing that the Grill was the only decent place to order take out from.

He refilled his mug in the kitchenette and as be passed through the station again, cursing the distance between the coffee maker and the conference room, he glanced into Liz’s office again. He stopped, staring through the large windows and saw Elena Gilbert sitting across from Liz; who was wearing a very displeased look on her face. Liz’s eyes flickered towards the window and did a double take when she noticed Klaus standing there. She waved her hand, motioning for him to come in. Following directions, Klaus moved to the door and stepped inside.

“I want to talk to you, not him.” Elena hissed when she saw Klaus stepping into the office. Klaus shut the door behind him, leaving it slightly ajar before taking a seat beside Elena; leaving his back to the office door. “I have nothing to say to him.”

“He is running this investigation Elena. If you do not tell him what you told me, I will tell him, but it will go a lot better for you if you just tell him. It will prevent him from wasting time on someone who is not the killer.” Liz closed her eyes and rested her forehead in her hands as though she was fighting an intense migraine. Elena pursed her lips disapprovingly before turning to Klaus.

“Damon didn’t kill those girls.” Elena replied and Klaus just cocked an eyebrow at her. When she didn’t say anything, he waved his hand; indicating that she should continue. “Stefan was in Chicago the night that Caroline was taken.” She swallowed and closed her eyes. “When Stefan goes out of town, I’m usually with Damon.”

“When you say ‘with’ Damon, what exactly do you mean?” Klaus asked. In truth, he knew exactly what she meant but he needed her to say it. There could be no mistaking what her when it came from clearing a suspect. Klaus knew that Damon was hiding something and the goal of his needling him was to figure out what it was. He just did not realize it would have that effect on Elena.

“I’ve been sleeping with him, okay?”

“You’ve been sleeping with your fiancé’s brother?” Klaus allowed the words to leave a nasty taste on his lips. Klaus did not think the opinion of Caroline’s friend could sink any lower, but he was proven wrong. “How long?”

“Since Thanksgiving. It’s why he officially ended things with Andi at Christmas.” Elena paused, before speaking. “I wasn’t sure if I wanted to call the wedding off or not. I love Stefan but being with Damon makes me feel free. I never intended to sleep with Damon but when I -shit Caroline!”

Klaus whipped around and saw both Caroline and Bonnie standing just outside the door. The look on Bonnie’s face told them all that they heard every word. However, Klaus’s scrutiny switched from Bonnie to Caroline in an instant. She looked pale, frail but incredibly strong all at the same time. The heartbroken look that was written all over her features told Klaus everything he had to know. Her words about Damon’s abuse to her being ancient history was nothing more than a shield.

“What the fuck Elena?!” Bonnie hissed to her, crossing her arms; shaking her head. “You’re getting married in four months. To Stefan! What were you thinking?”

“Caroline-“

“Don’t. Elena. Just…don’t.” Her voice was hardly above a whisper. She turned quickly and walked as fast as she could through the station; Klaus being able to see that her feet were still healing. Liz stood up quickly to chase after her, but Klaus shook his head.

“I’ll go after her.” Klaus pointed toward Bonnie and Elena, the former looking as though she was about to lay into Elena. In truth, Klaus thought she deserved it but was in no mood to witness it first-hand. Perhaps it was selfish, but he just needed to see if Caroline was okay.

“There is a picnic table under a large oak tree in the back. She probably went there.” Liz replied and Klaus nodded. He left her office quickly, just in time to hear Bonnie’s voice echoing throughout the station. If the deputies didn’t know about Damon and Elena’s affair, they certainly did now. By morning the entire town would be aware, including Stefan.

He found her easily, for there was only one large oak tree behind the police station. Caroline was sitting with her back to the table. Her arms where crossed but due to her light pink tank-top, Klaus could see the bruises running up and down her arm. Her left hand was in a white plaster cast. The closer he approached, he could see that her eyes were red and that she had tears running down her cheeks.

Klaus sat down quickly beside her and did not say a word. He just held out his hand, linking their fingers together and Caroline’s tears fell faster. Klaus just let her cry; never once letting go of her hand. Caroline’s grip felt as though she was hanging onto him as though he was her lifeline; terrified that if she let go, even for a second, what sanity she had left would come crashing down around her.

“I’m sorry.” Caroline whispered. “I shouldn’t let this get to me.”

“After learning what you just did and everything you’ve been through, if you were not out here crying, I would have to assume you were a sociopath.” That caused Caroline to give a humorless chuckle. She brought her cast up to her cheek in order to wipe some of the tears away. Seeing her movement, Klaus leaned forward and wiped her tears away with his thumb. It was perhaps not the most professional move on his part, but he could not help himself. Their eyes locked with one another and the small smile she gave him was probably the most genuine one he has seen from her.

“I take it you were looking into Damon.” Caroline replied and Klaus nodded. “Makes sense. What with all the questions you were asking yesterday. That and he was in a relationship with Andi and he is my ex, I suppose it would be completely logical assumption. However, seeing that Elena apparently was with him that night, he has an alibi.”

“Yes.” Klaus nodded. “Marcel, my partner, and I were looking into Damon based on his connections with you, Andi and Vicki as well as the fact that he has a violent past. I suppose if Elena is willing to admit that they have been having an affair, then it is safe to say that he was not the man who kidnapped you.” Caroline closed her eyes and Klaus wanted nothing more than to see her smile again. “Perhaps it is not the most appropriate thing to say but at least you won’t have to see him at Elena’s wedding because at this point, I don’t think there will be one.”

“No.” Caroline replied, laughing. She knew it was not funny, especially since Stefan was going to be heartbroken but it was what she needed to hear at that moment. “I don’t think there will be either.” She shook her head in disbelief. “You know, I called Elena that night. I wanted to see if she wanted to grab dinner or something because I figured she would just be moping around their apartment with Stefan gone. I guess I know why she never answered. Poor Stefan.”

“Is there not some, girl code or something about dating one’s ex?” Caroling turned and looked at him with disbelieving eyes. Her curiosity and the sparkle in her eyes were exactly what he wanted to achieve. He smiled widely at her. “My sister Rebekah has said something akin to that in the past.”

“You have a sister?” Caroline asked and Klaus nodded. She was imagining what a female version of Klaus would look like. Did she have the same sandy blonde hair and blue eyes? Did she have his dimples? Caroline shook her head; knowing that now was not the time to be ogling to the agent who has been nothing but kind to her. “Is it wrong that I wanted it to be him?”

“What do you mean?”

“Damon was the easy suspect. I don’t think anyone, outside of Elena and Stefan, would be surprised if he was the one doing all these awful things.” She paused before pushing on. “I’m tired. I just want this to be done. I want this bastard to be caught so I can look him in the eye and let him know that he didn’t break me. I want this to be over so I can begin healing. I don’t think I can do that if he is still out there. But I have to try.”

“You are unbelievable.” Caroline began to look offended and Klaus could sense that he was three seconds from being told off. “I meant that as a compliment, love.” She narrowed her eyes playfully and bit her bottom lip; sending Klaus’s mind to places it should not go. “What I mean is that two days ago, you clawed your way out of some cell, harming yourself in order to do so. Today you found out your friend has been sleeping with a man who used to beat you. Most people would be in the hospital, curled up in the fetal position but here you are. Sitting on a bench, holding a real conversation. You have no idea how strong you are.” The smile on Caroline’s lips was enough to make Klaus’s heart stutter; until a thought occurred to him. “Wait. Why are you not in a hospital right now?”

“Well…..you see…” Caroline bit her bottom lip and looked at Klaus worriedly. Her eyes blue eyes were down casted; as though she knew she was about to be in trouble for something. “I might have checked myself out.”

“You checked yourself out?!” Klaus all but yelled; not in anger but in complete disbelief. “I take it back. You are a sociopath.”

“Hey! Be nice to me! I’m vulnerable!” Caroline cried but there was a hint of laughter in her voice. Klaus stood up, unlinking their hands for the first time; both forgetting that they were holding them together in the first place, and crossed his arms. “Wait! Where are you going?”

“We are going back to the hospital.” He held out his hand, but Caroline refused to take it.

“No. No. Nope.” Caroline shook her head. “I cannot sit in that hospital bed anymore. I can’t just sit there and wait for news. I need to do something. I need to start getting back to my life. I already promised Dr. Fell that I would come in everyday for checkups and allow for home visits. I feel fine. I came here to tell my mom that I was going home and to see if she would mind staying with me tonight. I can’t go back to that hospital.”

“Caroline.” Klaus said, pinching the bridge of his nose. In that moment, he never considered how exhausting she could be. He saw Bonnie strolling across the lawn towards them. Once she reached them, Klaus turned to her. “Please convince your friend to go back to the hospital.”

“Oh, I’ve tried; from the second she called me to pick her up to the entire drive here.” Bonnie stated in a tired tone. She was irritated and from her ridged posture, Klaus could tell that her confrontation with Elena did not go over well. “I’m hoping she will reconsider but the more we push, the less likely she will actually do what is good for her.”

“I just want to go home Bonnie.”

“Fine.” Klaus stated, taking a deep breath. “But I am putting officers outside your house, twenty-four hours a day. If you hear the slightest noise, you call me immediately. I do not care if it is just a creak of a floorboard or the wind. You call me. At any time.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary tonight.” Bonnie prompted in a sweet voice. “Liz already said she is sleeping on your couch tonight since you’re being stubborn and I’m blowing up my air mattress. Slumber party.” Bonnie reached out her hand. “come on. I will even watch Gone with the Wind with you for the billionth time.”

“Thank you.” Caroline stood and leaned into Bonnie, giving her a hard hug. She looked over her friend’s shoulder and tossed Klaus a thankful smile. He nodded towards her and strolled across the lawn. He looked over his shoulder and saw the two women slowly making their way towards what he assumed was Bonnie’s car. He made a mental note to ask Liz to station officers outside Caroline’s home; if she did not already.

The moment Klaus reached the police station door, Elena by passed him; not even sparing him a glance. By her posture, Klaus could tell that she was very angry. Her face was flushed, and her eyes red. Klaus found it very difficult to feel sorry for her. He knew she never intended Caroline to be hurt, but now her actions were not only going to cause her to lose the trust and relationship with Stefan but she would have a lot of ground to try and regained with not just Caroline, but it looked like with Bonnie as well.

“Ms. Gilbert.” Klaus called to her and Elena paused. Her stance was rigid, but she did not turn around to look at him. She knew that she could not simply ignore him, but she did not want to look at him either. “Was it worth it?”

Elena did not answer him.

[chromium7sky]

The Devil wears Armani| Chapter 3

A/n: probably will release two chapter as Xmas Event 😆😆 enjoy!!

Raven wake up in the middle of the night after having a nightmare. A nightmare where her company suffer lost and the media accusing her for stealing design from other designer.

She put her hand on her chest as she tried calm down her increasing heartbeat. She sighed as her pulse return to normal. She thought, the causes of nightmare probably because of pressure from her work and social media.

As she lightly presses her forehead, her eyes caught up the card on the night stand. She narrowed her eyes and slowly lift her finger as she reached out that invitation she received at her doorstep.

She read again the content on that fancy paper.

'Greeting, Ms. Raven.

We, the Wayne Enterprise are proudly to invite you to our Annual 50th Gala. Our main purpose is to increase charity fund for our community project as we collaborate with Leviathan Industry to provide supplies food and shelters to the orphans, refugees and other people who need it.

The following details about the Gala are below and we are hoping Ms. to come and enliven the event.

Venue: Grand Hilton Hotel, Gotham.

Date: 25th of August

Time: 1900 - 2300

Theme: Black and Gold

The most important key that's happening during 50th annual Gala are Charity auction, performance from the Wayne orphanage and an enclosed fashion clothline showcase by mysterious Rook.

contact : 555 - 04XXX ( Mr. Wayne)for RSVP or inquiry '

"RSVP?" Raven mumbled as she looked at the card. She hummed as she looked at it. What if she call and tell him that she couldn't go? It would be easy right?

But she need excuse like very gravely sick that she couldn't make it to the gala. Besides, gala is in 1 month away.

By that she could of course forget the deal which she HAS to accept. Or not. She facepalmed real hard.

With her finger start to pushed the numbers on the phone according to the number on the card. She paused. Should...should she call him?

In the mist of making decision somehow the phone slip, her hands accidentally press the call button and fell on her bed.

"Oh, shit." She curses as the voice were on the line.

"Hello?" A deep voice she heard at the speaker. Oh, shit. He answer the call.

With shaky hands, she slowly pick up her phone and about to end it, he speaks.

"Why are you calling me at 3 am, Rachel Roth?"

Her hand were froze. Should she answer it or not?

"I know you're still there."

She closed her eyes, swallowed. " It was accident! And you're still up at this hour?" Raven wonder why he's still awake it this wee hour.

"I'm a night bird. Is this a booty call?" Damian teasing her.

"B..booty? No!!" Raven quickly denied it.

" So, you want me to come over or we just do it on the phone?"

"What do you mean by that?!" Blushed start to creep on her face and to her ears.

"You know, both of us are adult. I'm sure you know what I mean." Damian smirk behind the phone.

Raven let out annoyed sound which makes him chuckled. "Look, it was an accident and I should be apologies for calling you early in the morning."

"I won't accept apologies on the phone."

"What?"

"Unless..."

"Unless?"

"Unless I come over to your home..." Then his voice start to turn into low whisper.

"That's a NO." Raven quickly dismissed. "Look, since you were EXCITED enough for me to design your suit, I'll see you tomorrow at your office."

"Oh? You decided to come at me?" Damian teasing her again.

" Don't get me wrong." Raven grumbled. " I need to measure you."

"Oh, kinky." He purred.

"Stop it! I'm serious!" Raven try to keep professional in her field. Is he drunk of something?

"Fine, fine." He sighed but she could hear content in his voice. "Besides, I can't wait to see you in that dress that I've made especially for you."

"But...but you don't have my measuring." Raven opposed because seriously it's been 3 years since the last time they met and probably the measurement he took from her during the classes might have changed.

"I've estimate it correctly from our last meeting."

"Correctly or not, you'd better take it after I'm taking your measurement." Raven pressured for that process.

She doesn't want to end up becoming an embarrassment during the gala as she remember one of the team got an F because of mis measurement leaving their model half naked with bare ass presented to the examiner.

"Of course, if you LET me."

"Let's us focus on designing both of our clothes." Raven keep her voice cool trying not be affected by Damian's flirting words.

"Both of "Anything you wanted to add for the suit?"

"Yes. You beside me."

"Raven sharply inhaled as she try contained her anger. "If you could why not you just velcro-ing us?" She saying it sarcastically.

"You just give me an idea." Seems like Damian just get an epiphany.

"Nope. No. You heard nothing." Raven panicked. "Forget what I said before!"

"You just gave me an idea, how could I forget?" He chuckled. "It's getting late, I'm looking forward meeting you at the office."

"Uhh.."

"Don't worry, I'll cancel all my meeting tomorrow and LOCK the door."

"Lock the door? Is that nessessary?" Raven getting puzzled.

"I don't want any kind of disturbance when I'm WITH you." Raven could feel him smirking behind his phone.

Raven now thinking about clap back what he said. "If you thinking of doing weird things that time, I have thousand needles to stab you." She huffed.

"Perhaps you'll feel it if I stab you with mine?" He teased back and that made Raven flushed and quickly shut the call.

She throw her phone on the floor , quickly pulled the blanket up to her head. What is happening?

All these time she thought he would be a serious and stubbirn just like back in those days but it's seems otherwise. Was it because of different hour call? Or maybe he was drunk? She shake her head.

-------

After she hung up the call, Damian smirk at her reaction as he stare to his phone screen. He put it down besides a drawing.

A dress design drawing he does for Raven with the title, Scheherazad.