#the toy being the grown man he's trying to turn into a murderer
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Moonjo mentally exploding Seokyoon for like 2 minutes
They get along so great
#moonjo may be a murderer but he's also a liar and an overly possessive kid who doesn't want to share his toy#the toy being the grown man he's trying to turn into a murderer#tw for blood#seokyoon: *breathes in jongwoo's direction*#moonjo: and i took it personally#'are you going somewhere' meanwhile seokyoon like 🤨🏳️🌈❓️#seo moonjo#kang seokyoon#yoon jongwoo#strangers from hell#hell is other people#if i were moonjo i would've cried myself to sleep the moment jongwoo told seokyoon that he made the studio more liveable#did he really think that seokyoon might have a shot at keeping jongwoo there or was he just fucking with him
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
Yandere!!Fairytale characters!!Dark Reverse harem xFemale reader
I recently edited this
Part 2 here
You always loved stories for as long as you could remember because every night until you turned 8 you had dreams about coming to visit these story book characters but strangely they were your age in these dreams and were incredibly possessive and kept going on about how you would have to get married to one of them when you grow up.
When you were 9 you stopped reading fairy tales and these dreams stopped too.
8 years later~
You where just minding your own business when your mother came in and told you that you had to donate some old toys to a charity shop, you lazily got up and went to your attic where you kept most of your childhood things. As you searched you picked up the story book that you haven't seen in 8 years, a wave of nostalgia came over yo as you flipped through the pages. Suddenly aa portal came from the book and sucked you in.
Story 1 Cinderellis
You found yourself in a castle when someone suddenly bumped into you. You were surprised to see a beautiful woman wearing gorgeous clothing and a crown probably the queen giving you her hand to help you up she apologized and then gasped taking a closer look at you.
Queen: y/n is that you?
Y/n: Um yes?
She beamed and hugged you.
Queen: y/n my dear its been so long you're all grown up and so beautiful!
y/n: Queen Charming?
Then it all came back to you .You where in the castle where you used to play with your old friends Ellis and Johnathan. The queens son Johnathan saw you as a little sister and the queen saw you as a daughter but Ellis was the son of a wealthy man who was very kind and had a close friendship with the royal family. You remember Jonathan was vey protective and teased you a lot while Ellis was very sweet and incredibly shy and was very clingy towards you but he had this dark side and hated competition.
Queen: Just call me Caroline dear.
She smiled warmly at you seeming euphoric to see you again.
Caroline: Come quickly we must tell Jonathan you returned he will be so happy to see you.
So she lead you to the vaguely familiar room belonging to Jonathan
When he turned around you could barely recognize him he really has grown up.
Johnathan: y/n?
You nodded and he then tackled you into a hug like when you were kids.
Johnathan: I knew you'd come back dummy!!!
y/n: You really haven't changed a bit huh Johnny.
After you three caught up you found out Ellis's dad had died after you left and he now lives with his stepmother and his two stepbrothers they stopped seeing him after they met his stepmother.
Caroline the told you that she was gonna plan a ball for your return and to find a wife for Johnathan she sent out invitations to everyone in the land including Ellis and his family.
Ellis's home
Ellis was doing his usual labor because his mother treated him like a slave ever since his father died. His step family now just calls his Cinderellis due to him always being covered in soot. Ellis barely got anything to eat and was always given ragged clothing to wear. His stepbrothers mad sure to make sure he feels and looks terrible because they are incredibly jealous of Ellis because of his looks and all the female attention he gets.
After all these years Ellis hadn't forgotten about you but how could he ever since he met you he had been madly in love with you so much so that he worships the ground you walk on and would do anything to get your attention and much much more to get you affection but after you left a piece of himself left too he was absolutely devastated but he never lost hope that someday you'll return.
When an invitations to the ball came Ellis didn't care but he jumped for joy when you saw that this was for your return finally, he'd see his beloved again.
He told his Stepmother, and she told her sons to try and get you to fall for one of them now Ellis didn't like this and poisoned his family that day, after all Ellis never liked competition.
After the murder he disposed of the bodies he then dressed in one of his fathers suites and daydreamed about how soft your lips where or how happy you'll be to see him he can already picture you running into his arms proclaiming your undying love for him and how you'd never leave him again you'll be his in a matter of time.
Back at the castle
You were getting ready for the ball when a blinding flash of purple light came, and you saw a woman with a wand and beautiful purple wings in front of you.
???: Oh hello dear.
y/n: um who are you ma'am?
???:I'm your fairy Godmother I'm here to help you get back home.
y/n: Why? everyone is so nice here.
She went silent for a moment looking at you sympathetically.
Godmother: Things aren't always as they seem my dear...you have to save Jonathan if you want to make it to the next story.
y/n: WHAT IS HE IN DANGER??!!!AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN NEXT STORY??!!
Godmother: Keep it down, yes he's in great danger and you have a few more stories to complete before you get to go home.
y/n: what do you mean?
Godmother: I mean in each of the stories you will live in you will have a task when you complete it you will be sent to the next story but if you fail a task you won't be able to leave when you were younger you made every one of the male leads fall for you and now their obsessions have grown in an unhealthy way so be careful I'll see you soon.
and then she left just like how she came with without warning and in a poof of purple light.
The ball had begun and you couldn't stop worrying about Caroline and Johnathan. You were shaken out of your train of thought when a young man asked to dance he seemed pretty exited even euphoric and...love sick?
Nonetheless you agreed and he swiftly took you to the the center of the ball room as you two danced you couldn't avoid his stare it was so intense but those gray blue eyes were just` too familiar then it clicked.
Y/n: Ellis...?
He smiles at you and nodded.
Ellis: Did you miss me little mouse?
you smiled back at him and hugged him and he was in pure bliss finally you're back in his arms oh how he's dreamed of this day everything was perfect until he saw those pretty eyes of yours start to lose focus on him as you kept glancing at Jonathan this made his blood boil he was always second place to Jonathan when it came to you he always got your attention but now he's finally snapped he's had enough.
When you left to go check on Caroline he pulled out a vile of poison the very same he used to kill his step family.
Ellis: I didn't think I'd have to use it so soon.
He mumbled coldly.
He was about to pour it into Jonathan's glass when he heard your voice and he quickly his it into his pocket smiling at you, you asked to speak to him privately and he was taken back when he saw you crying and he immediately went forward to comfort you only to be pushed away.
Ellis: Little mouse what's wrong.
You stared up at him with a mix of hurt betrayal and confusion.
Y/n: I saw what you were about to do Ellis...I don't understand, Why would you try hurt him.
Ellis: why? because I love you y/n I love so much that it drives me insane I love you so much that I'd kill anyone in a heartbeat just for your attention I love you more than you will ever know little mouse~
All you could do was look up at him in fear as he caressed your cheek smiling at you with a sickly-sweet smile.
y/n: what happened to you? You were so sweet so kind and so selfless.
Ellis: Oh y/n you happened to me.
you saw a deranged glint in his eyes and his smile turned more sinister.
Ellis: You turned me into this.
At that moment you knew there was no reasoning with him so you had to be with him until you get sent to the next story.
y/n: Ellis I'll be yours if you promise not to hurt anyone else.
You could tell he was more than euphoric hearing those words come out of that pretty mouth of yours it sent him over the edge.
Ellis: I promise Little mouse.
For about 5 months things where perfect for Ellis waking up and knowing you are there being the only one able to kiss your soft lips it was pure bliss until there was a flash and you were gone.
You were falling out of the sky and splashed into the water you tried your hardest to swim but couldn't you were about to drown but you were rescued by a strange being and all you could remember was its voice.
Tell me if ya want me to continue and please give my other yandere stories some love.
God loves you get plenty of sleep and stay hydrated
#yyandere x reader#x reader#yandere#various x reader#various yanderes x reader#fairy tales#reverse harem#yandere reverse harem#yandere boy#yandere community#yandere headcanons#yandere imagine#yandere imagines#male yandere#yandere boyfriend#reverse au#disney#yandere disney#yandere x darling#various x you#x y/n#yandere x you#x you#yandere boys#yandere prince#yandere male#darling x yandere
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Am I the only one who thinks it's Fasai's dad's hired man who shot Great and his mom?
And it was Win? who was following Tyme when he returned to hospital? That man was wearing a mask and tall and lean, Tyme was clearly being followed and he sensed it but Den appeared infront of him.
That lady who after seeing the news, gave a donation and picked up '4' numbered fortune stick and the diviner telling 'it means death or partition from beloved' what was that.. gosh that was nerve wrecking.. is it Nan's mom? Or Mon's mom? I don't think she could hire a person to shoot? But the person who shoots is he an hired man or personal revenge? Great in this timeline hasn't infact killed anyone directly, Mani is also saved ig or indirectly for online gambling coverup? So????Who???
---------------------------------------------
Great's mom.. you're pretty pretty but that mentality sucks, justifying/ closing your eyes on murders and gambling is one bad thing, but expecting your only son to accept your ways and do as he is told as if he is a three year old is NOT GREAT?????!!!!!!!
Great having to choose between his mother who had "done it all for him" or running away from that home, Great running away makes sense, even though it was for like four seconds.
Both Korn and Great's Mom tell that 'You don't have to do it I'm doing it instead', 'All of this is for you to live comfortably', 'Ive done it all for you these many years, just apologise and accept' ???????? is a huge guilt to carry on by the innocent bystander family member. Those family dynamics run in all real life families, mafia or not, rich or poor or middle. And people who have no conscience can go ahead do whatever murder torture sex trafficking and live off that, but people with conscience suffer even if they were kept and grown without knowing any of those shit. And more so after knowing it all.
Can a child turn in their parents to the police? My Sweet Mobster kdrama did an amazing work with that exact mafia plot. Link : Eat, Die, Kill kdrama did a similar concept but without the mafia part. But it's not going to be happening in 4 minutes.
Korn is not going to turn anything anybody over to police. He is selling his soul multiple times for that company. Great asked for time from Tyme to take next step and got shot. So Tyme asking Great if can turn in his parents and Great hesitating (even if it was dream fight/unreal timeline) is insignificant now that Nan has revealed it all. Whether Great's Dad cover it all up is for upcoming episodes.
Coming to the guy who shoots. Korn is not going to hurt Great as Great knows. Great is sure to Tyme that nobody will hurt him. Is it blissful ignorance or is it just a simple fact or is it his childlike belief of his subconscious where all these episodes are taking place? Wow. Idfk. Great's father is not going to hurt Great too. Definitely not his mother.
Or Tyme, Tyme didn't hurt him in front of that bar or while standing on that rooftop or any other time. If not out of love, even if and when Tyme was just using him, he might have hurt Great emotionally but not physically to the extent of shooting, definitely not after falling in love! It's out of the question now. In the dreamy fight when Tyme tells he has nothing to loose, he for a split second literally forgot both his grandma and Great. But later in the outside world, it's shown he accepts the money and backs off from Great, trying to protect his grandma and Great. How much of this is reliable.. but atleast he won't be killing Great for whatever reasons.
But anyway, Great is shot. And that brings back to Fasai, the only one to have the motive and lack of emotional connection with Great. I think Fasai or both she & her dad are trying to actually take over the company by marrying Korn, using him as puppet/toy the same thing she refers Tonkla as and simultaneously eliminating Great and Great's mom and leaving Great's Dad with no choice but give up the company?
Fasai. God I hate that kind of manipulative/cornering/coercive/trading relationship when someone is emotionally invested somewhere else. Korn you poor thing. All your choices and life are meaningless and wrong loops.
If Fasai knows about Tonkla, and call him a toy like everyone was telling since ep 1 but I like an idiot telling no Korn loves Tonkla since ep 1 like I'm an absolute pathetic idiot who thinks love will be chosen over money.. I mean if I want that I should just stick to JJ Methas.. anyway.. what was I talking about.. If Fasai knows Korn and Tonkla, she must know about Tonkla and Win, but she didnt reveal to it Korn while telling him to leave Tonkla and marry her.. she might be playing that card later???
----------------------------------
Korn. I hate you. I love you. Hope you runaway and restart a life. Or surrender or something. Anything other than doing whatever the shit you been doing since ep 1.
#4 Minutes#4 minutes the series#greattyme#korn#4 minutes#4 minutes ep 5#korn x fasai#great x tyme#toxic parents#thoughts#ramblings#lgbtqia#this episode was traumatic
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
day 52 no typical drabble this time, just gonna rant abt an au i've had with drunznoblade in an SCP setting (just drunz for now but that will change :P)
Dream and Punz are partners at an undisclosed SCP foundation site. Dream has a history of working with sentient SCPs, particularly humanoids and animals. He started as a simple bio major in uni until a chance encounter led to him being hired by the foundation in which he had to leave his old life behind for this new opportunity. He met George and Sapnap, his best friends, and Punz, his soon-to-be partner, at the foundation site. George and Sapnap are fellow researchers--George specializes in technological SCPs and Sapnap has a special interest in fire-based/adjacent SCPs--while Punz is in fact an SCP himself.
Their exact age and birth date are unknown, but they've been documented throughout history as the most prolific assassin known to man. He's alluded capture for a long time until one day he randomly turned himself in, claiming he'd grown bored of doing the same thing over and over and dreaded the potential future of an eternity like that.
Some years passed of them staying at the foundation where it was found that their success came from a terrifying ability to know all the ways to kill a person and how any object can be turned into a weapon. They never received formal training for this, it was simply the truth of their life. His mother died during child birth and he killed his father at a young age after some disagreement. Punz doesn't remember the exact argument, but they do remember bashing him over the head with the toy he tried to take away.
He'd lived a life of crime since then, stealing and killing to survive, until they realized he couldn't die. (And believe him, he's tried.) It's completely unknown why they were born this way. Biological research on him has revealed very little in the way of an explanation, simply telling researchers that he's a healthy young adult with an abnormally fast healing factor. Some rumors at the foundation claim they're an immortal god of death that's just biding his time, saving up power to kill them all.
While at the foundation, they enjoyed a simple cell as a Euclid class SCP with basic restrictions and around the clock monitoring for any change in behavior. Punz mostly lazed around the place, free food (though they didn't really need it) and no rent to pay was quite nice. The researchers engaged him to talk and he responded, but always devoid of any emotion. It only strengthened the gossip that they weren't even human. Eventually, Dream joined the research team after reading and being intrigued by their profile. Things shifted when Dream was allowed to talk to Punz.
Dream didn't approach him with the simply objective of adding to the long list of Punz's history. He updated him on current events, talked about his own day, asked Punz how he was enjoying the food. He called them by their name, not their number. He treated them like a person at a time when everyone seemed hellbent on stripping that from him. They start to smile, looking forward to Dream's visits and almost completely shutting down around other researchers that try to talk to him.
It's clear to the rest of the team that Dream is getting too close and personal to the SCP, putting the research and himself at risk, so he's taken off the team. When Punz is told this after two days of not seeing Dream at all, they murder the researcher and break containment. Since he'd been so docile for his entire stay, security on his cell became lax. Everyone in the vicinity was killed, usually by pens thrown through their foreheads, some even passing straight through and lodging in the wall behind them. Punz went on a murderous spree until he found Dream in the food hall. Punz kills anyone in their way as they get to him, which he's horrified by but he calmly addresses them and tries to get them to return to their cell.
Armed personnel arrive to subdue the SCP, but Dream steps in, much to Punz's surprise. He convinces the upper level in charge to have a meeting to talk. All three are escorted to a secret room. Dream tries to reason with the both of them, but Punz is adamant that he stay with Dream all the time while the upper level refuses to negotiate any terms in which Punz leaves the foundation. So, Dream compromises by agreeing to stay in the foundation at all times with the primary objective to keep the SCP in check. If Punz kills another person at all, Dream will be terminated. In exchange, Punz may freely roam the foundation site provided Dream is always at his side. (For this purpose, Dream gives them the medallion, though he doesn't tell them that. It's a sensor attuned to a microchip implanted in Dream during the first days of his employment. If it's out of range of the medallion, it will explode in Dream's head, killing him instantly.)
They come up with the excuse that Punz is Dream's new assistant, and as an employee they're no longer classified as an SCP. It's an open secret at the foundation, but nobody questions them after the massacre
15 notes
·
View notes
Note
oH- shit ye ye i remember him getting mc that red meat and it's nice that hybrid MC's family kinda cares for him and yeah bullying deffo sucks
Oh! And hmm let's say basically everyone that would go yandere for mc in the hybrid au went already...well yandere for him how would they show their jealous and how would they act?
Btw I'm June! If you remember me on Quotev lol ^^;;
Oh ~ time to introduce one of the love intrests. Ah sorry for not remembering
LEON
Jealous little fucker.
In school people think he's just helping the sheep so it's easy for him to be seen with mc without any backlash.
Infact if anything it boosts his popularity so he can easily get away with been loving to his love.
But because he has an image to uphold he can't just outright show his hatred for the person.
So he's just leaving his scent all over M/N, trying to keep him for extra study lessons. He's always trying to keep him to himself.
M/N is HIS.
And he's not sharing him with anyone! Still he's not going to be irrational and act out.
However, this doesn't stop him from spreading false rumours about a person, but if you know Leon by now this won't be enough for him.
No no no no~ if the Love interest is weaker than him in noble status and power he's getting rid of them.
Might even feed them to Mc if they irked him bad enough.
Will murder to get them out of his way and honestly him killing a rival or any other contender off is much merciful than if he keeps them alive.
The gods forbid he decides to toy with you alive.
Like his OG self, despite his kind facade he lacks morals, is not against hurting family members of theirs to prove a point.
But if they have a higher standing and are more power than him the lop bunny finds himself being obedient and threading carefully.
He hates it,but he knows when he has to bow his head.
If this happens to be the case well....
He's not against marking M/N. Filling him up with cute little kits.
Whether his little lamb wants it or not~
W...wait! Sir Evermore! S..stop please " M/N cried out as he was pushed down to cold tiled floor.
His ears were pinned down as his e/c eyes widen in fear and confusion behind the locks of h/c hair hiding them.
He didn't understand what was going on.
One minute he was following Leon to the green house because the other had offered to help him with the flowers and the next the lop rabbit had pushed him down to the tiled ground once the doors were closed, unbuttoning his coat and trying to pull the fabric off the sheep hybrid.
The wild look in his purple eyes reminded the h/c man of a rabid dog.
A Predator.
And he was prey.
His mind went back to the red meat the blue haired omega had been feeding him.
Was he going to be turned into red meat ?
Had Leon grown tired of him already ?
Was he that worthless now that he could only be served as food to predators ?
His heart shattered at the thought as tears welled up in his eyes as he pathetically struggled against the larger omega.
Did the other really not love him like he said he did ?
A loud sob was ripped out of his plump lips as Leon pulled off the school coat revealing his body and most importantly his neck to the larger omega.
The sheep's kicking got more frantic, his mind going into flight mood, ignoring the cooing sounds of the larger omega trying to comfort him. Suddenly his senses where pushed into overdrive as his sensitive nose was forced to endure an onslaught of the larger omega's scent of strawberries and vanilla clogging his mind.
Cute~ " the rabbit hybrid purred out as he stared as the smaller man under him, enjoying the sounds of panic and confusion leaving his lips.
He always like the dumbs ones.
Using the smaller omega's confused state to his advantage Leon adjusted his position, pushing a knee to spread the other's legs wool covered legs apart and holding his wrists to keep him in place, a slurred whine was what he got in response.
Using his free hand Leon unbuttoned the other's collar, exposing the s/c man's pretty neck and scent patches around his scent glands blocking the sweet scent of warm honey and ripe peaches ( the one that had been driving him crazy ever since he caught a whiff of it by an accident ).
Narrowing his eyes and clicking his tongue in annoyance, the rabbit hybrid used his free hand to peel away the offending material, letting out an animalistic growl as he basked in the sweetness of the other's scent.
Not wasting time the blue haired man lowered his face to the other's neck, licking the soft patch of skin, a soft groan leaving his lips at the sweet taste that coated his tongue, his cock getting hard and straining in his trousers at the moan that left the sheep's lips.
He could ravage him later.
He paid no mind to his arousal focusing on the task he had at hand.
Using his free, Leon brushed away the hair covering his beautiful eyes " I'm sorry N/N..." the smaller omega still disoriented from the over flow of pheromones still somehow managed to perk up a bit at the nickname.
"... This is going to hurt a bit, but it's for the best ..... " The larger omega cooed out , opening his mouth to reveal tiny full fangs
The e/c man tried to make out the blurry images and the words he was hearing.
The functioning part of him didn't understand how Leon, a lop bunny-
A prey!
Could have so much power over him.
Prey was weak and couldn't fight back.
Then what was Leon-
" AH! " A high pitched pained scream forced it's way out of M/N's lungs, his body writhing around as he tried to push away the larger omega from him, but the rabbit wasn't budging.
The full ache of dull fangs digging into the soft flesh of his neck, he could feel the warm blood spilling down his neck, the hot white pain making tears run down his cheeks as blubbering nonsense left his lips.
Leon simply held him down as he forced his fangs to go through faster, hating how he was causing his lamb pain, but after a few more agonizing seconds it went through.
The mating mark was done.
Leon pulled away, ruby red droplets spilling down his chin as a few smeared across his thin peach lips. Purple eyes stared at the pretty bleeding mess underneath him.
His soft whimpers, his soft fuzzy ears pinned to the side of his face, his small brown horns shining in the gleam of the setting sun,his pearl like tears, the small droplets of blood spilling out of the two puncture wounds on his neck his scent had already started mingling with how own in a sweet scenting symphony.
He was his.
M/N was his now!
A crazed laugh left the rabbit's lips as the realization set in.
" Your mine now. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine Mine . Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine! Now does bastards can't take you away from me " he said, licking away the blood coated around his lips, the taste making his heart hammer away in his chest.
It took a while for his high to calm down, but when it did Leon finally regained himself.
Acting like a barbarian was unbecoming of a student council member like him. Taking a deep breath the larger omega gently picked up his mate, the poor man had passed out, but Leon didn't mind.
He would heal his cute little omega all up~
Evian
Say hello to a new love intrest.
Evian von Merridew
Even though this world has majority of the population being hybrids there are still other mythical beings, like Orcs, elves, goblin, dragons etc. The dragons and other full monster species that have a humanoid forms.
Evian is one of these species, a siren to be more specific.
SIREN~ ( this is my own explanation for the creatures in my universe )
They are all extraordinarily beautiful and have varying body build, but the most common are, mesomorph, Tall, slender, hourglass and muscular. ' chubby sirens are of course seen, but because of their species beauty standards they try to starve them selves to 'fit in' which is wrong, but sadly not enough light is being put on the matter. With their extraordinary beauty, being prideful is a normal thing and are viewed by society as the, epitome of beauty, along with some hybrid species, Vampires, elves, fairies, succubi and other mythics, some hybrids also fall into this category.
Leon's beauty is on par with Evian
They have feline like eyes almost seem to glow in the day time which is more noticable in the dark and like the old tales humans used to tell in days of old, they have beautiful enchanting voices that lure others into a state of hypnosis, the older the siren the more experienced they are in using their voice to get what they want, but laws prevent them from doing as they please as abusing their power can get them punished. They have mild regeneration abilities and can heal small cuts and broken bones fairly quickly, but loss of a limb or an organ will not be replaced ( They can with the help of månå infused surgery ) and enhanced strength ( can lift things twice their body size, this can grow if the individual decides to hone and train themselves on it ). They age slowly as well and once they reach a certain age they stop physically ageing and can keep living for over millenniums , the oldest age a siren has ever reached is currently unknown to other species.
They have three forms of physical transformation transformation
The first is their 'Marrow' form
This is just a human form, but their scales can still be seen on the side of their necks, arms and thighs. Their canine tooth are fang like and their finger nails are like claws and the tips of their ears are pointed like that of elves. They are most commonly seen in this form.
Have excellent vision great sense of smell, enhanced strength and are agile on their feet.
The second form they have is their 'Pure' form.
This is their birth form, and the form they change too when they are in a large body of water. Their legs merge back together to form a beautiful scaly tail, their fingers become webbed, the gills on their necks that had been formally closed reopen so they don't need to resurface all that often for air and more scales appear on their upper torsoe and face. Now instead of just their canines all of their teeth are now shark like and razor sharp.
Then their final form is the berserker transformation.
*Note: not every species has a berserker mode *
In this form they lose their beautiful faces and become hulking masses of scaly bodies, their scales becoming tougher than steel and their bodies grow drastically in size. Ranging from twenty to sixty meteres in height. Their mouths are filled with rows of razor sharp teeth that become to big to stay in there mouths and end up peeking out of their lips, adding to their already terrifying appearance, their eyes grow bigger in size and the slits become tas thin as a line. Strange marking patterns appear on their bodies and begin glow ( each individual has different patterns unique to them. Like finger prints ). No matter what ' Do not approach at all '. In this state they lose all thoughts of rational thinking and will attack any that moves with no other intention than to kill. And death by this creatures is not a good way to die. Though this rarely happens as they pride themselves in self control so full berserker transformation is never fully reached ( unless someone fucked the hell up ) and the punishment for doing can lead to capital punishment, and the punishments can be harsh ( I.e removal of fins, forcing one to stay in their Marrow form for the rest of their life ). They have a pre-berserker form which is the one they usually resort to when they start their violent spree. It's similar to their pure form, except now they've grown in size ( from 16 to 30 feet long ) their scales, becoming more jagged and pointed and their mouths are with filled with the same shark like teeth peaking out of their lips. They have the same patterns glowing on their skin that does a great job at making them look ethereal yet at the same time fucking terrifying. Their sense are increased by a tenfold, meaning they are faster, stronger, healed quicker, perfect hearing. Escaping from them would be near impossible in the water.
BIRTH:
Sirens have two ways of giving birth. The first is Marrow Carrying.
Marrow Carrying ( Humanoid birth ): this is the ' normal ' birth, where the siren parent gives birth to their pup through labour. Can have from one to six pups per litter and pregnancy in this form is six months
Hatchling:
In their pure form the omega and alpha mate. On their tails their where the pelvic area is located, there is a slit, where their sex organ is hidden. ( The penis, vagina and since female alpha's have penises hidden inside vagina comes out when erect in their Marrow form, but both are visible and are separate instead of one being in the other. This is reverse for male omegas, since they have wombs there's a small opening below their penises , where they can be impregnated. After the mating is done the carrying parent waits for a few weeks to ensure that an egg or eggs have been fertilized, then they can carefully release it from their wombs, the egg is about the size of a golf ball , it's colour is pure white, but one can see the outline of the pup growing, once this is done, the parent guards the egg protectively, usually they transform into their pre-berserker form to scare off any threats as they guard over the growing egg, not even going to look for food. After seven months the egg shell has become weak and translucent, showing the pup that has formed healthy and the baby breaks free from it's gooey shell prison been born.
The Hatching process takes to much energy and time and the whole process happens in the deepest parts of the sea, with the starving of one parent and survival rate of the pup being really low because one parent can't continuously watch the egg, letting sneaky predators have a free meal, so majority prefer the ' Marrow method '.
Cute note: siren babies are called 'Guppies'
Inter breeding with these species is only possible with Vampires, elves, fairies, a few animal hybrids and humans.
Alphas and omegas are mostly born into these species, with very few betas. Sirens prefer the more traditional partber role ( Alpha x omega) So in the Siren hierarchy beta's are at the bottom of the power scale.
Dominant Alpha
Dominant Omega
Recessive Alpha
Recessive Omega
Beta
They have no influence and are not the strongest when in comes to hunting and their chances of been fertile enough to carry children are really low, since most miscarriages happen to beta female who have a forty five percent chance of carrying a pup full term without any complications.
Beta's are easy to tell apart, while pretty their beauty can't hold a candle to their alpha and Omega counterparts, and their scales even though they glimmer in the sun rays are usually dull in colour.
Are omnivores, but majority of their diet is meat, and they have a taste for land animals more than seafood. As sophisticated as they look and act, they have the most count of cannibalism in their species, though it has died down with the increasing age of technology and modern world thinking.
Sirens are seen as a mythical species so they are refered to as mythic's ( same goes to other mythical species )
The image is his face claim, but I'll explain more to give sight on his siren looks.
Pale porcelain skin that resembles that of a doll. Golden coloured scales with aqua marine decorate the side of his face, arms, rib cage and thighs.
His eyes are three colours the outer part of the iris being gold, the inner is aquamarine and the center being silver. Thin red glossy lips that's always pulled usually in a straight line.
Is a recessive omega, but is Pretty than a lot of dominant omegas in his empire.
Scent is cherries and lime
Other than having pretty privilege and damn plot armour he's born into a Grand duchy.
The Merridew Grand duchy is one of the founding families of the Empire and are on par with the Vermillion grand duchy and the L/N ducal family.
He knows M/N since they had play dates arranged between them as children.
He honestly had no interest in the sheep hybrid as they were growing up.
He's a siren so he technically he's a predator.
He's strong. He's even stronger than most since he's a prodigy.
The very best of the best.
He has no need to make friend with weak prey.
That doesn't automatically mean he gets along with Marrav.
He detest the lion hybrid as well, the alpha is to cocky and annoying.
That's how the relationship between the two is just going to be at first. Two people who were forced to have play dates together as children and grew apart as they got older
Has an aloof personality and doesn't really care much for things he deems as a waste of his time.
Tied with Leon as being one of the prettiest omegas in school.
Has a fanclub, but cult would be the right word with how they all religious worship him. He doesn't pay them much attention but it does boost his ego.
Also having minions ready to do his every bidding makes getting materials he needs for things a whole lot easier.
As a siren he has a soft enchanting voice they make people focus their attention on him and listen to his every word without protest.
Evian is a member of the student council and he's the head of the månå/ månå life studies and potions department. He's a prodigy at månå manipulation yes, but he prefers creating potions since it makes things a lot easier.
This potion making is what builds a road for him and M/N to interact.
He needs a particular ingredient for an elixir he's working on. A very rare red rose with gold tips.
And he can't find the damned thing anywhere.
Not even the black market, it's understandable because it takes good portion of ten years for the flower to bloom and during those years one has to constantly check and make sure it's receiving the right proportions of sun light, water and special månå fertilizer. Any small mistake would kill the flower and all progress and money would be gone for nothing.
He just didn't think that people would completely abandoned it!
He has his minions working day and night to find it and after three months they do. it's been right under their noses the whole time.
The schools resident outcast has been growing them by himself in one of the academy's many abandoned green house.
He had paid a dark guild so much money for something under his nose.
The siren would be pissed off at first, but he'll brush it off. Since it's the pushover sheep that has one it'll be easy to collect it without spending anymore money.
Or so he thought.
Firstly finding the sheep hybrid is a surprisingly hard thing. The smaller omega is good at keeping himself hidden and is never in one place for long so it takes at least two weeks to track him down.
When Evian has finally managed to corner him the sheep hybrid refuses to give him one.
That blond can't forcefully take it, because M/N's family is the one backing him up for the project and he knows first hand how protect they can be, so he tries to buy it.
The sheep still have refuses and it takes a lot for him to not lunge and growl at the smaller man for being so stubborn.
M/N understandably won't just give away something that took his sweet and blood to grow so easily, especially since he only managed to successfully grow only fifteen, but Evian is at his wits end.
' " I thought we were friends. Friends help each other that's why I came to you " the blond said as he stared down at the smaller man with frustrated eyes. His nails had started digging into the soft skin of his palm as a last ditch effort to calm his nerves down so he wouldn't attack the prey in anger.
He hated how he had stooped so low to this. Begging this inferior thing for something and he had the audacity to deny him of it.
What made things worse was he couldn't get a good grasp on the omega's expression because of his hair was covering his eyes. He was sure the bastard had a smug look on his fa-
" W... we're f.. friends ? " The question and hesitant voice made Evian's snap out of his thoughts.
Multicolored eyes watched how the smaller omega fidgeted in the spot he was standing, his fluffy wool ears twicthing slightly in nervousness as he nervously played with his fingers.
' oh ? '
" Of course we're friends! " The taller omega insisted suddenly moving forward to grasp the other's hand catching the sheep of guard.
" I know I've been really busy and haven't hanged out that much, but I really mean it when I say your my friend. We've been friends since we were guppies and kids haven't we ? " The blond man asked giving the sheep a pitiful look.
" Y...yes we h..have " the h/c man agreed wincing slightly when the other tightened his grip. " So you'll help me right ? " The omega said, leaning in closer, a red lips stretching into a small smile when the h)c sheep hybrid nodded his head.
" Thank you M/N your such a good friend " '
And just like that without wasting money he Even gets what he wants and one would think that's where their interaction will end.
Not. In fact it sort of becomes a game for him. How much can he take from the sheep omega by calling him his friend.
He obviously has no real interest in the smaller omega, he just wants to see how he can play him or just how much the other will bend to his whims for the sake of the ' friendship ' between them. And the siren soon finds out the he will do a lot.
From giving him precious herbs for free to being a lab rat for his potions and elixirs to even.
" The blond shoved his tongue deeper down the smaller omega throat, wanting to get more of his sweetness on his taste buds, his hands busied themselves on the other's body. One rubbing soothing circles on hips while the squeezed the soft flesh of his ass occasionally pulling on his fluffy tail.
Ignoring the hands lightly tapping on his chest Evian continued to indulge himself, he only pulled away when the man started to go limp on his laps.
The siren stared at his cute little ' friend ' who was pitifully gasping for air. The h/c bangs that usually covered his eyes has been pulled back to reveal pretty e/c hues, a deep red blush dusting his s/c cheeks.
His plump lips were glossy from both their saliva being mixed together and slightly swollen from the bruising kisses he had been subjected to earlier.
His ears were pinned down by the side of his head giving him an even more submissive and timid look, the collar of his shirt and a few buttons had come undone, revealing the blooming hickeys and bite marks that decorated his neck and collarbone, the sweet scent flooding of him in waves and mixing with his own of cherry and lime.
The larger omega could feel the poor sheep's his hard cock pressing against his stomach struggling in his pants.
Evian hadn't meant for things to get this heated, but recently he had noticed the h/c sheep hybrid spending more time with that annoying lop rabbit and hadn't even been making time for him. He even had his disgusting scent all over him.
Evian wasn't jealous or anything.
How could he be jealous of prey interacting with one another ?!
He just wanted to remind his ' friend ' who he was supposed to spend more time with.
The siren let out a small moan as he felt his own cock struggle in his pants, but he had to be patient for now.
He needed to remind his pretty little omega that he was the only friend he was supposed to have '
Evian would sooner die than publicly admit he has feelings for M/N. He's not against showing him affection in public but he's sure as hell won't use his mouth to say it.
Uses his family's connection to break the engagement between M/N and Marrav so he can keep the little sheep hybrid for himself.
Is manipulative and controlling so he's going to make the h/c man his perfect little spouse. Uses magic to watch the sheep's every move.
As for dealing with other love intrests, he either sells them off to the black market or have his minions deal with them, but personally he doesn't like bothering himself with things that would make him handle ' unpure ' creatures.
Though if the Love interest in question pushes him far enough he will.
Hope you like this
#hybrid au#mc#omegaverse#dearly detested#ask#nobility#omega male reader#leon#x male reader#x omega male reader#Evian#x bottom male reader
90 notes
·
View notes
Text
Powerpuff Girls episodes explained badly
Monkey See, Doggy Do: Everyone is a dog and/or naked.
Mommy Fearest: The girls try to turn some lady they just met into their step-mother and regret it immediately.
Insect Inside: Bugs are gross. Or are they?
Powerpuff Bluff: Cosplay for crime reasons. And to look cute.
Octi Evil: Bubbles trusts in her plush toy when it suddenly starts talking to her like one of those imaginary friends that tells you to burn things. It goes as well as you'd expect.
Geshundfight: There's too many people on this earth, we need a new plague.
Buttercrush: 1 1/2 year old develops crush on 17 year old who uses her crush to manipulate the shit out of her.
Fuzzy Logic: You don't touch another man's banjo. Ever.
Boogie Frights: An endless disco party ends in Bubbles turning off her targeting computer and blowing up the Death Disco Star
Abracadaver: Zombie magician comes to town and does zombie magician stuff.
Telephonies: Crank calls lead to the one moment in the entire cartoon my family constantly quotes, literally any time anyone says 'him' in any context. Also we learn how HIM stays so fit!
Tough Love: HIM farts on the entire city and it makes everyone hate the Powerpuff Girls.
Major Competition: Pretty much the exact kind of thing I'd expect Jeff Bennett to voice comes to town, kicks a puppy and gets praised.
Mr. Mojo's Rising: Mojo reveals he is both the Professor's former pet and the technical other parent of the Powerpuff Girls.
Paste Makes Waste: Be careful who you bully in kindergarten because they might eat a radioactive fly and become giant glue monsters.
Ice Sore: It's a hot summer's day and gee whiz, Blossom sure blows!
Bubblevicious: Bubbles is hardcore.
The Bare Facts: Your typical 'no-one's account is fully accurate as they piece together the story' story, but with crayon drawlings and a naked old dude.
Cat Man Do: Evil cat possesses the professor and does evil cat things.
Impeach Fuzz: Fuzzy becomes the perfect mayor. Crime is down 100%, the Powerpuff Girls now get called to catch pigs.
Just Another Manic Mojo: Mojo Jojo's morning routine ft. annoying children.
Mime For A Change: Clown steps into oncoming traffic, gets covered in bleach, causes an environmental disaster and ruins everything.
The Rowdyruff Boys: Rule 63 the episode.
Uh Oh Dynamo: Kaiju vs murder robot. The city loses.
Stuck Up, Up And Away: Spoiled brat tries to buy superpowers, like Batman.
Schoolhouse Rocked: Teenagers who were abandoned in a dump before ever going to school meet a truant officer who becomes the first person to ever care about them, then go to school and get expelled on the very first day.
Collect Her: This is you, you obsessed freaks.
Supper Villain: Man gets sick of pancakes for breakfast and lives out secret supervillain fantasies. (Second most quoted line of the show in my family is here.)
Birthday Bash: Happy birthday, here's some death. Also why the hell is a 5 year old girl in a prison where every single other inmate is a grown man?
Too Pooped To Puff: When completely exhausted from their constant hero work, the girls tell the city to put a toaster in a bathtub full of water.
Beat Your Greens: These kids are so reluctant to eat the only good green vegetable that vegetable aliens arrive to teach them to stop being pussies.
Down n' Dirty: Buttercup refuses to bathe and it's fucking disgusting.
Dream Scheme: In The Sand Man you play as Sophie Grundler, a girl suffering from insomnia. Exhausted and unable to sleep, Sophie wanders into town to discover everyone else has fallen into an eternal sleep. Wait, wrong sand man-
You Snooze You Lose: Mojo falls asleep, loses some schematics and goes completely batshit insane. Then the girls eat gum that was in Junior's mouth earlier. Then probably get sick from Amoeba Boys germs again.
Slave The Day: Billy, who we thought was dead, pledges allegiance to the girls and Blossom yells at him.
Los Dos Mojos: Bubbles is Mojo now. But twice as hardcore.
A Very Special Blossom: Blossom turns to a life of crime.
Daylight Savings: Actual consequences to these small children having to go out at all hours to fight crime.
Mo Job: Mojo and Princess build a gun and shoot children with it.
Pet Feud: The Professor genetically engineers a neopet that eats everything.
Imaginary Fiend: A child's imagination is a dangerous weapon. And may tell the child to set the school on fire.
Cootie Gras: A kid who never bathes decides to play kiss chase. When that grosses people out, he gets used as a dangerous weapon.
The Powerpuff Girls Best Rainy Day Adventure Ever: The Powerpuff Girls play The Powerpuff Girls.
Just Desserts: Man's supervillain fantasy is adopted by his entire family.
Twisted Sister: The girls create a new sister who is severely disabled and then promptly dies.
Cover Up: Security Blankie the episode
Speed Demon: Back To The Future but scarier.
Mojo Jonesin': Mojo deals crack to toddlers
Something's A Ms.: Sedusa has sex with the Mayor so she can steal shit.
Slumbering With The Enemy: Mojo goes on RuPaul's Drag Race and infiltrates a child's sleepover.
Fallen Arches: Old People Fight Club!
The Mane Event: Blossom gets a new haircut and gets bullied. I like her hair like that though.
Town And Out: The Utoniums move to a new town with real world consequences for senseless property damage.
Child Fearing: Mojo babysits and regrets every decision that led him to that moment in life.
Criss Cross Crisis: Mandatory body swap story from hell.
Bubblevision: Bubbles has sudden sight loss issues and gets ripped to shreds for it. Also there are ants.
Bought And Scold: Princess' dad buys the city and she legalises everything, then gets robbed.
Gettin' Twiggy With It: Neglected trailer park kid abuses a hamster.
Cop Out: American Police officer attempts to kill three children. Nobody is surprised.
Three Girls And A Monster: Well, they aren't adopting it, but they aren't murdering it either.
Monkey See, Doggy Two: Everyone's a dog again except the girls, so they can beat the shit out of things still.
Jewel Of The Aisle: Cereal mascot tries to rob diamond.
Super Zeroes: Cosplay 2 electric boogaloo. Also who the hell trusted Blossom with a car?
Candy Is Dandy: What happens when you introduce sugar to children who aren't allowed sugar.
Catastrophe: Don't shove cats up your arse.
Hot Air Buffoon: The Mayor goes into the sky and punches people.
Ploys R' Us: The Professor sleep steals and the girls profit from it.
The Headsucker's Moxy: BRAINS BRAINS IT'S ALRIGHT, I'LL EAT THEIR BRAINS TIL THEY'RE ZOMBIFIED
Equal Fights: The Powerpuff Girls get brainwashed by a TERF.
Powerprof.: Embarrassing dad becomes superhero just to spend time with embarrassed children.
Moral Decay: Buttercup steals teeth and sells them on the black market.
Meet The Beat Alls: Mojo, Fuzzy, Princess and HIM form a band and live in a yellow submarine.
Him Diddle Riddle: HIM canonically has the power to end the entire world with a flick of his wrist but instead spends his time making the girls solve riddles to inconvenience them for shits, giggles and not having customers Karen their way out of paying for flapjacks.
Film Flam: Fake director tries to take advantage of impressionable young girls and it takes their dad in drag to stop him.
All Chalked Up: Butterfly HIM teaches Bubbles art therapy and then brings the therapy to life.
Get Back Jojo: Back To The Future again
Members Only: Big manly men have their masculinity threatened by little girls, then a giant dick joke from space voiced by Mr Krabs kills everyone.
Nano Of The North: Tiny robots eat your clothes
Stray Bullet: Squirrel with huge nuts becomes super squirrel after small child force feeds him chemicals
Forced Kin: Mojo has beef with some shiny silver dude
Knock It Off: Dexter's estranged uncle or something comes to town, makes a shittonne of artificial children to sell for profit and many of the children die.
Helter Shelter: Bubbles kidnaps a baby whale
Power Lunch: Teenagers with terrible diet have stomach issues.
Superfriends: New kid in town falls victim to peer pressure.
Keen On Keane: Girls, seriously, have you not learned your lesson about setting your dad up on dates with random women yet?
Not So Awesome Blossom: Blossom has an anxiety attack and loses all self confidence.
Power-Noia: The girls eat cheese before bed and have weird nightmares.
Monstra-City: Segregation is right.
Shut The Pup Up: The girls consider beating a dog to death.
Toast Of The Town: Babysitting an old guy who wants toast.
Divide And Conquer: A glorified maths lesson featuring amoebas.
Burglar Alarmed: The girls try to silently deal with a burglar because daddy is tired.
Shotgun Wedding: Fuzzy tries to marry Professor Utonium, then has sex with a pile of mud.
Save Mojo: Vegans ruin everything.
Substitute Creature: Ms Keane is sick and the girls learn they're racist against green people.
The Boys Are Back In Town: Oh yeah rule 63 is back and spikier.
Pee Pee G's: Mojo breaks into the girls' house and pisses on their bed. He faces absolutely no consequences for this.
Boy Toys: Boys don't like girls, boys like cars and weapons.
Seed No Evil: Frozen caveman steals sunflower seeds. This one feels like a really shit fever dream.
City Of Clipsville: The show runners take the absolute piss out of every fanfic writer in the fandom.
Lying Around The House: A lie gains sentience and fucks shit up.
Bubble Boy: Bubbles steals Boomer's clothes, identity and family.
A Documentary: Guy stalks children and tries to record videos of them.
Girls Gone Mild: Karens ruin everything. Again.
See Me, Feel Me, Gnomey: Jack Black a gnome creates communism through the power of music
Curses: The girls learn how to swear.
Bang For Your Buck: Kids compete in a life or death struggle to earn enough money for ice cream.
Silent Treatment: Silent movie kidnaps man and steals his voice.
Sweet 'n' Sour: Plushies rob entire city and get away with it because they're cute. Also they hate children.
Prime Mates: Brainless monkey ruins everything. Just like Twitter.
Coupe D'Etat: Sentient car is a homewrecker.
Makes Zen To Me: Buttercup joins a peace cult.
Say Uncle: The girls adopt a sasquatch and Utonium does not recognise his own brother.
Reeking Havoc: How do you fight a giant fart? Asking for a friend.
Live & Let Dynamo: Kaiju Robot is back and is committing crimes for fun.
Mo' Linguish: Mojo teaches a class at an adult education centre. Sadly it is not street dancing for self defence.
Oops, I Did It Again: Normal little girl AU
A Made Up Story: In which makeup is evil
Little Miss Interprets: Bubbles ruins a surprise party
Night Mayor: Another weird cheese dream but this time it's the Mayor dreaming about having relations with pickles
Custody Battle: HIM and Mojo have a messy custody battle in the middle of Townsville and both lose.
City Of Nutsville: Bubbles swallows a bee and squirrels kill everyone.
Aspirations: Sedusa takes advantage of a group of teenagers who have been abandoned by their mothers and also never gotten laid while also turning them into criminal masterminds.
That's Not My Baby: The girls find an abandoned baby and decide caring for it will convince their dad they're ready for a hamster
Simian Says: Mojo takes over the show
Sun Scream: PSA: Wear sunscreen.
City Of Frownsville: Man with terrible depression develops machine that cures his depression by giving it to everyone else
West In Pieces: Back To The Future 3, the wild west one
Crazy Mixed Up Puffs: Oh god they've fused
Mizzen In Action: Pirates of the Caribbean but less interesting
Roughing It Up: The Professor takes his kids on a camping trip and becomes rival dads with Fuzzy
What's The Big Idea?: The girls are made giant and it's a whole mess.
Nuthin' Special: Buttercup has no unique abilities. Any she had before are no longer unique.
Neighbour Hood: Children's TV show demands money.
I See A Funny Cartoon In Your Future: Gypsy and goose steal things along to a terrible rhyming narration.
Octi-Gone: Bubbles holds a fancy dinner party hostage to solve the mystery of the murder of her plushie, the one that told her to burn things.
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦. || 𝙇𝙪𝙘𝙖𝙨.
warnings; obsession, possessiveness, violence and mentions of murder, basically lucas is even more unhinged than usual if that's possible,,,
𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠...
-
𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐬 enjoys having you.
See, he's lived so long. He's the wizard of the tower, he's the most powerful magician, blah blah blah. Behind it is a cold, ruthless man who dislikes attraction, considers love a nonsensical waste of time, and has no regard for regulars human lives.
This was all until he saw you. The spontaneity, the chaos, the mix of colors you brought into his life he couldn't, wouldn't, ever let you go. He looked at you and fell so hard that it might as well have been audible. He wanted you, and so he took you.
You hated him. You hated this twisted man. When you woke up on his bed, dizzy and with a splitting headache, he appeared in front of you and explained the situation.
You had tried to fight.
Amusing, really.
What could you do against him?
You entertained the thought of resistance. You refused to eat, and when things took a turn, stopped talking. You hollowed yourself out, like a worn, empty shell lying on the waves. Lucas watched with sick humor in those red eyes; you poor, foolish thing, don't you know you can't resist him?
'Darling.' He all but sings, so cheerfully walking towards your cowering, trembling form, as if he isn't drenched in someone else's blood. He's just returned from a brutal massacre of some of your closest friends, back when you were actually free. 'I have a gift for you.' He scatters the arms and head of your dead friends in front of you, and you shake like a leaf in the wind, sobbing and shifting away from him. Then the happy demeanor changes and he forces your chin upward harshly with his hand. 'Let this be a lesson to you; you can't leave.'
That never stopped you from trying.
And Lucas grows more and more demented after each day.
He toys with your mind. Shows you visions of escape.
More than one time, you murder an illusion of Lucas, just to feel his arms around your waist and his whispers in your ears.
Lucas finds pleasure in messing with time. You collect small peach blossom petals for each day that passes by, but your hair hasn't grown a bit after six months, and there is no sign on any other human being or the change of seasons. What was happening to time?
Overtime your stubbornness faded. You weren't truly happy, but Lucas knows you'll come around. You're eating, and you reply to his questions and engage in conversation with him. You don't fight it when he wraps you in his embrace or holds you against himself at night; and you're settling down finally. The tower, once so cold and dark, now with you. Your perfume, your scent, your shampoo, your peach blossom spread all over the couch as Lucas presses you against it.
You've gotten way too comfortable.
Lucas just finds you adorable.
-
peach blossoms, in the language of flowers, mean: 'i am your captive.'
neeways, i really hope you liked it, it's not meant to be a proper fic I've just been having yan! lucas brainrot for days and needed to get it out.
-
Tags: @mysticmeena (just tagging you in everything I write--sorry if it's kinda annoying-!),
@writerinthedeepwoods,
@that-one-pretty-bitch,
@dxmoness.
-
188 notes
·
View notes
Text
You, and only you - J.S
summary: just you and Jacob sitting, enjoying the day.
The sun shone brightly, lightning up the whole county. As always it burned your skin, but you were so used to it, you didn't even seem to care about being sunburned later.
"Do you really believe the shit your brother preaches?" you suddenly asked, the man beside you tensed up, standing straighter than he usually does, his hand tightening around his signature red rifle.
"..careful, pup. You might be my favourite, but someone might take your words the wrong way." Jacob warned.
"I don't ca-, WAIT! What do you mean favourite? I'm the ONLY favourite. You better not like anyone better than me, or I swear I'll rip your head off of your shoulders." you glared, looking directly into his beautiful eyes.
The moment he smirked, you knew he was just toying with you to get a rise out of you, at which you mumbled nasty words under your breath. However, you knew he meant no harm, Jacob wasn't usually playful, unless he was trying to manipulate someone and scare them, but when it came to you? That man could be a big teddy bear, for all you knew.
One of Jacobs judges walked towards you, and nuzzled his snout into your face, making you laugh at how supposedly deadly and lethal the creature was, yet in your presence, it merely turned into a small cub that wanted to play and cuddle all day long.
"You're making my judges weak." The redneck sighed, sitting down on the grass, beside you. Close enough, that your arms were touching, although his were a little bit scratchy, from the marks and burns, but you didn't mind. He brought you a great deal of comfort. The judge moved around you, to make way for his master, but still be able to nuzzle into your side.
"Seems like not only the judges." you smirked, nudging his side.
Jacob grunted, then brought his free hand around you, brining you closer to his side. The rifle now long forgotten, laying beside his feet.
"I'm not weak, pup." he replied.
"No, you're not.." his gaze turned towards you, inspecting your face, as if waiting for any other comment about him.
"But for me you are and always will be.." you smirked, yet again. How could you help yourself? It was just so fun teasing him, knowing you were right, but he'd never admit it to your face, or anyone's.
"Whatever you say."
The silence after that was comforting, just sitting with each other, forgetting about the shitty world around, the crazy deputy and mental, so called 'prophet'.
A memory, from the day you realised your feelings for Jacob, you just knew you'd end up in his crazy family. Good for both of you, that Joseph accepted you, even called you a blessing for his older brother that would save him from the collapse, and together you'd march into Edens Gate. Josephs 'stories from God' always made you roll your eyes.
"Ah, so this must be the Y/N." said Joseph, too cheerfully for you liking, as if he was hiding something beneath that creepy ass smile.
Trying to be nice, you just nodded politely, squeezing Jacobs hand, which he squeezed back for reassurance, that everything would be fine.
"Yep, that's me. And you're Joseph.." then you looked at the other man, in a very expensive, and actually gorgeous coat, who was looking you up and down, like he wanted to ravish you then and there, or murder you in the most painful way, "John,", at that he flashed you a pearly white smile, then your gaze turned to the blissed out, dressed in white, lunatic, who never stopped looking at her 'Father', "Faith."
Joseph ignored the bite in your tone, and just smiled, "What wonderful news, Jacob finally found his soulmate. I knew this would happen, I saw it.. I saw you, saving his from the end, and bringing a new generation with us in Edens Gate."
Jacob choked on his spit, you looked at Joseph as if he'd grown a second head.. "Yeah, okay, I'm sorry, but I think we have to go, I really promised Jacob to train with the judges, sooo yaknow.." before anyone could get another word it, you turned around, Jacobs hand in yours and marched towards the jeep, "Bye!"
Well, that day you didn't really train the judges, not that you even trained them at all, but lets just say, Jacob made the day so much more eventful...
"Honestly, I...I don't know if what he's saying is true, but it brings me a purpose, and a purpose for others." Jacob interrupted your thoughts. His head was up, looking at the clear sky, his hand stroking your bare thigh.
"It's okay to not know, I just hope his actions won't get out of hand, I'd rather my man come home safe and sound in one piece, you know?"
"I always come back to you pup."
You smiled at him, bringing your hand to his face, and taking his chin between your thumb and pointer finger to tilt his head towards you. His eyes spoke many unsaid words, yet you already knew everything you wanted and needed to know. Closing the distance, you kissed him softly, caressing his scarred face, making him literally melt underneath your touch, like he's never before. Only you made him weak, only you
________
Part two will be soon!
sorry for errors!
#jacob seed#far cry 5#joseph seed#farcry5#jacob seed x reader#jacobseed#joseph seed x reader#jacob seed x y/n#jacob seed x you#Spotify
190 notes
·
View notes
Text
For Myself
Sukuna x Reader
Warnings: nsfw mention. mention of violence, blood, injury, and cannibalism. implied murder. starts off kind of dark but gets fluffier towards the end. gn!reader.
obligatory warning for my poor editing skills. if theres any egregious errors i'll get to them when i get home from work
Summary: some fluff where Sukuna comforts the reader while they're sick
Word Count: 2.4k
He's certain you would be more comfortable in his lap than on the floor. Even as he beckons you to sit, you refuse, turning your gaze away. You adjust your position to a more comfortable spot on your knees. The floor is hard and cold, but you don't have much longer to wait anyway. Sukuna has grown bored of the man standing in front of him. A peace offering, in exchange for not razing their village. A young woman, brought here against her own will. Her life to replace yours. It's nothing Sukuna wants, nor can he make use of her. She’s no sorcerer, likely no good in a fight, and too frail to be worth eating.
Worst of all, it insults you.
An insult to you, is an insult to Sukuna himself.
The man was only delaying the inevitable. Humans have a habit of doing that. They’re resilient, like cockroaches. You can squash, poison, trap, or drop a nuke on as many as you want to, but they’ll always come back.
He planned on killing him from the moment he stepped foot in the door.
And when he kills him, he makes sure to have the woman watch. She lays curled at your feet as you regard them both with cold eyes. Not a scream passes her lips. She’s either frozen with fear, or knows that moving is the worst thing she can do.
She begs for her life.
Sukuna leaves it up to you to decide.
It was an insult to you, after all. In a past life you could see yourself letting her go. There's many things in life you used to do that are no longer habits of yours. You were in her shoes years ago. Time has hardened you, made you cruel. If a past version of you could look at you now, you don't know if you’d recognize yourself. Not all change is bad. People are meant to change, and they’re going to do so.
You give her a minute to start running. After that, it's up to Sukuna with what he wants to do with her.
She takes the opportunity, thinking she has a chance to survive, and flees. The guards and servants let her. Your word is second to Sukuna’s. The only person who could overturn an order put in place by you is Sukuna himself. He usually doesn't. The resulting chaos from anything you do is good entertainment. And he has all the time in the world. Being immortal leads to a lot of boredom.
Sukuna would hunt her down before she could escape the estate.
Nobody got away from him. Not even you. Nowadays you’re much less serious about leaving but you still threaten it if he dares piss you off.
He'd never let you go. You know that. Try as you will, you're never getting free.
Not that you have anything to go back to. And you're rather comfortable here. Comfortable may be a bit of a stretch, but you're housed, fed, and protected. The basic human needs are taken care of. Sukuna cares about you in his own, twisted way. You may have first been just a plaything to keep his stomach full and his balls empty—a toy to be discarded after a day or two—but you've earned a place by his side. He wakes up next to you, he goes to sleep next to you. He's grown used to having you around. And you to him.
You're just as much his, as he is yours.
Everything about the man is selfish, and all-consuming. But when he is with you, he finds himself giving for the first time in his life.
He gets a servant to draw him a bath. He has the decency to scrub the blood off before finding you, and asking you to join him. His bloodied kimono is replaced with a clean one. It's black, the sleeves are wide enough to accommodate his four arms. Blood doesn't bother you, but he doesn't want to track it all over his house.
Something is wrong.
He doesn't remember you getting hurt, but you’re acting like you’re injured. He thinks back to this morning, how he had to drag you out of bed. How sluggish you acted.
Worry creases itself between his eyebrows.
Your mortality was something he knew of, but never gave much thought. There was no need to. The mortality of others was something he didn't care about. You weren't supposed to be kept long. You were merely a sacrifice, meant to appease Sukuna, and in turn he wouldn't raze your village. While young, and pretty, not good enough to save your people. He planned on fucking you, burning your village to the ground, then eating you. Not necessarily in that order, but that was the plan.
He's taken everything from you. Your home, your life, your family. Even as you were forced to face your fate, you never gave in, never lost your bite. You defied him and lived. You had a malicious streak in you. You were never as sweet and as innocent as the people of your village first played you up to be. Years later you still put up the same fight. It's a constant back and forth between you two.
You’d never be able to hurt him. As much as you'd scratch and bite, you'd never so much as draw blood. Harming the King of Curses was not an easy task.
His 'love' was much more material at first. As you got settled down, survived more than a week, gifts appeared. Jeweled hair pins and beautiful, expensive kimonos appeared. All made just for you. He'd never admit to being behind it. You were not complacent, but you were comfortable. You were his spoiled pet. That didn't stop you from clawing at his eyes whenever he picked you up when you didn't want to be touched. Being spoiled didn't make you nice.
None of his pets have lasted quite as long as you have. At least eight times the trees of his estate have shriveled and turned brown in winter, and the ground has hardened with frost. At least eight times they've bloomed and have had the life of spring breathed back into them, and the ground has thawed and turned muddy. You just did what you had to in order to survive. You've more than just survived. Some would say you’ve thrived. You would beg to differ. If you were the begging type.
He still views you as a pet. You’re human after all. Though sometimes it feels like you’re becoming more curse than human. Being viewed as an equal to him is impossible, but he values you. You're not something that can easily be replaced.
His hand touches your shoulder from behind. You don't flinch. You used to flinch. Then you started swinging. You're never able to hurt him. You're strong, but not that strong.
"She was far too frail to eat," you say, "I assumed you didn't want to keep her for that."
You don't eat human meat. Or try not to. Early on in your stay, before you knew better… It wasn't pork. Uraume was a wonderful cook, but not for anything you ate. Personally it's not your thing. Non-human meat is hard to come by around here, so you’ve stopped eating the stuff altogether. If you wanted it, Sukuna would make a servant get it for you, but you are content without it.
"You made the right call." He says. You always do.
He slips beside you, watching as you remove the intricate pins from your hair. You always loved your hair. Even at your darkest moment you took great care of it. It was a source of pride for you.
A wave of nausea rolls over you. Sweat beads in your hairline, rolling down your back, under the thin fabric of your—his—robe. You have little need for clothes. It doesn't get that cold here. Sukuna tears them off you anyway. Covering yourself up isn't necessary, but you do it out of modesty, and a sense of normalcy. You protest as he pulls at the fastenings of your robe, the flimsy fabric pooling at your feet. You have no plans on getting wet, you’d much rather go to bed. You’re tired, and you don't want to be bothered.
The tub is large enough to fit several of you. You guess it's fitting. The man is huge. He settles into the water behind you, pulling you to his chest. Try as you will, you’re not going to be able to struggle out of his grip. You’re too tired to put up much of a fight, though you do complain.
One of his sets of arms wraps around you, effectively trapping you in place. The other pulls a washcloth from the side of the tub, into the water with you. As much as you hate to admit it, the warm water feels nice against your sore muscles.
Sukuna is not a sentimental man. But with the way his hands trace across your skin, soft, lovingly, like he’s reading a book of braille, makes you think otherwise. He doesn't leer at the curves of your body like he normally does. His eyes scan across your body, looking for any sign of injury.
When he deems you clean enough, and your skin has turned a nice shade of pink from the hot water, he lets you go. You're the first to get out, drying yourself off. You never realized how cold the room was before.
He hauls you into his arms. You do little to protest, which worries him.
The King of Curses has no need for sleep. The bed mostly serves for asthetic purposes, though he's not opposed to fucking you across any flat surface, you seem to favor softer ones.
Much like the tub, his bed is large enough to fit several of you. You feel dwarfed by its size. The man is huge, he needs a bed to fit. You could sprawl out as wide as possible and never have any of your limbs hanging over the sides.
He follows you, silent.
He can't recall ever letting any of his pets share his bed before. Some have tried. Tried. He can't recall any of them surviving as long as you have, either. He finds himself irritated at the thought of anything bad ever happening to you.
He doesn't join you in bed.
He doesn't need sleep the same way humans do. He can, but if he were to decide not to, it would bring no harm to him. He used to never dream. It was something he did, back when he was human, but that time has long passed. But whenever he dreamed, he’d wake up next to you. Experiences like that made him realize just why humans like to sleep so much. Before he never woke up rested; he was never tired in the first place.
You shove the covers aside and crawl underneath. They smell like him. He snubs out the candle burning on the side table with his index finger and thumb. Though it's dark, there’s enough light in the room to make out his much-larger form.
You shiver, although sweat forms along your skin in a thin sheen. Sukuna knows it's not cold. He sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. The back of his hand presses to your forehead. You’re burning up.
You were warm before, but he thought it was because of the bath. He’s not really sure what to do. It's rare moments like these that he's forced to face your mortality. He knows you're fragile—compared to him—but he can't bear the thought of something bad happening to you.
One of his large hands moves to cup your cheek. It's just as warm as your forehead. The pad of his thumb runs across your cheekbone.
"Stay with me." You say. You stretch your arms out towards him, making grabbing motions with your hands.
You’re not one to beg. Even when faced with death, you look it straight in the eyes. Call it bravery, or lack of self preservation. He admired that about you. You ignored your mortality because it did not matter to you.
“What's the matter, pet?”
“I don't feel too good.” You say.
Though he doesn't say it, he can tell.
“I’ll get Uraume-”
“No,” your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him back towards your chest, “no. I’m okay.”
He settles down beside you in bed, on top of the covers. When he opens his arms, you go right into them. He makes sure to keep the blankets tucked around you. Sukuna runs warm naturally. You huddle close to him, trying to steal his warmth. Though your face feels abnormally warm, you shiver. His much larger body lays partially on top of yours, his head resting on your chest, ear pressed to your skin. He can hear your heartbeat. Steady, and alive. Something low in your chest rattles when you breathe.
He should get a servant to bring you water, or some tea. It occurs to him how little he knows about the mundane things humans do to make themselves feel better. Not that he ever needed to care. In all the years you’ve been by his side, he’s never seen anything like this happen. He can't decide, and instead calls for both. If you need medicine, he’ll get that too, but you don't seem to be at that point. Uraume knows more about humans than he does. He’s no doctor, but he’ll work. If he asks you, you’ll just say you’re fine.
He holds the cup up to you, beckoning you to drink. The glass is cold against your lips. Even as your hands wrap around it, he doesn't let it go. He sets the empty glass on the side table with a soft thunk.
His large hand smoothes over your head, brushing your hair out of your eyes. His nails feel nice against your scalp. Nothing about the man is soft, but when he’s left alone with you, moments like this are bound to happen. You allow yourself to be pet. The heat, combined with the weight of his body, threatens to lull you off to sleep. The ache in your joints keeps you from doing so.
When he kisses you, you taste like a curse.
#jjk x reader#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fluff
511 notes
·
View notes
Text
— BEING INARIZAKI’S TEAM MANAGER AND A SECRET VOLLEYBALL PLAYER
inarizaki x f!manager
this is part of a hcs series, let me now what team you want next <3
okay so actually you ended being the manager because the girls volleyball team had already closed the application time
so you you were really looking forward to it and omg you were so sad about it
after being rejected, you were just peacefully going through the gym and you heard laughter from a bunch of guys
you recognized kosaku since he was in your class and waved at him.
and so, they were talking about getting a manager since this team is pretty much a lot to handle
and so since kosaku knew you were hard working and that the first idea that popped out oh his head was that if you wanted to try out.
kita respectfully introduced himself and asked if you were willingly try out 🥺🥺🥺 like what a man 🥺🥺
and mostly because the twins having fangirls always made this process kind of difficult, so instead kita and aran wanted to make sure it was someone who at least was trusted by one of them
and not to brag but bestie you are gorgeous
so it was a win win
atsumu refused to this because as the jerk he usually is, he said that he didn’t need any help
that son of a bitch
he was being soooo petty mainly after you said “oh don’t worry kita, idiots are not my type”
osamu fell in love with you ❗️
and aran
and suna
and well the team.
and so, looking at the other court where the girl vbc was training you said that it was something.
every! single! practice! is! chaotic!
but somehow you managed them so well
atsumu is still trying to prove that he doesn’t but oh boy he is the first one to requiere your help
you better believe this guys are your simps and are constantly competing over someone who a year ago could never imagine they had
your attention? the best way to prove each other they were superior
in away games, god bless the idiot that wants to even dares to try to do a move on you
they are lowkey intimidating
not but seriously
specially and surprisingly kita and aran
son como esos niños mamones fresas que de cierto modo les tienes miedo
besides
this team? over the moon for you
and tbh, they were so grateful for you, you did a lot for them that they started to feel some kind of embarrassing how before they wouldn’t know how to do basic stuff like cooking for camps, labeling they jerseys correctly, searching for new equipment like they love you
anyways that however was kinda sus to them
it all started when somehow you learned so quickly, and the technical stuff was not hard to understand as to others
surprisingly the first one to notice was suna
you could have said something but tbh
you still look forward to play volleyball like more seriously even as a hobby
BUT
BUT
you’d rather be dead than telling your team that’s what you wanted because
a) they could think you only joined to learn volleyball and not help them
b) you had your pride, you want to be recognized by your own merits rather than “of course, they are inarizaki’s manager if they weren’t they could have never been this good”
so you still played volleyball but hid from them
there was a gym nearby where constant tournaments were held
you were a ghost because knowing damn well your boys could go there at any moment you decided to take some precautions
like nickname and position was everything they knew about you
your teammates loved you, so they respected your private life, and it was kind of cool
but what you were not expecting is that for some reason, omimi had followed you one day bc you forgot something after practice.
being a friday it meant for some weird reason you always rushed out
“sus” suna says everytime
so he catches you going out to the gym and maybe, he thought, you were just going to workout or see someone
BUT THIS GUYS EYEBALLS ALMOST FALL WHEN HE SEES TOY RUSH AND TAKE OFF YOUR SCHOOL UNIFORM SHIRT AND TIE TO FUCKING REVEAL A JERSEY WUTH A #3 on it
bye you broke him
and so he tries to process it normally
key word: tries
and here we are him being interrogated by the team incredulous to his words.
ay first they interrogated him being overprotective by the fact that he was spending more time with you but when he tells them what he saw god dammit
they loose it when they find out.
and so, tsumu says something that everyone agrees with him for the first time
“let’s go and spy”
“i swear to god if y/n finds out...”
“shut up aran, unless you want to make it obvious and reveal our identity dumbass!”
“tsumu, the disguises are awful”
“come on kita not you too!”
“what if”
“akagi shut up all of you agreed with the idea”
“osamu you suck”
and so there they go. trying to find you in the sea of people at the entrance, not having a clear view yet, they only search for the navy blue and white uniform that omimi described to them when he saw you.
and then almost as if it was the gods plan, they started hearing whispers of people around mentioning the arrival of one of the most popular teams out there.
“come on what the big deal-” suna started saying, however your figure appeared and he instantly turned into a babbling mess.
as well as the rest of inarizaki vbc.
osamu had to double check to assure himself that it indeed was you, beautiful as ever, walking alongside your hot and apparently talented team.
minutes later, they were standing in the bleachers as quiet as they could. they spotted you.
“A SETTER” atsumu jumped of his seat and had to be scolded by aran who was also surprised by the position you were going to be playing.
“wasn’t expecting that” ginjima talks saying what everyone was currently thinking.
behind them was a couple of guys, who apparently did not know how lower their comments.
“the setter is kinda cute” “wow look at that” oml please even aran who was the voice of reason had the urge to punch them in the face.
still they decided to just focus on your game who has now been started. and even tho they wanted to not do it, they couldn’t help analyzing you and your moves in the court. it was natural, well because they were players and very good ones it’s inevitable for them to compare and to study the way you played more than anything.
they were not expecting you to be this good. almost everything in your technique was polished, your tema work was remarkable and god bless your ability to read the blockers.
but there was a moment when they just saw the panoramic view of your skills. atsumu could see your tired expression, the sweat on your body, he just knew you were feeling now the adrenaline of the last moments of the set.
still you yelled a “we will take it” and then, with the others team hope hanging on a thread, the ball came to your libero, which perfectly passed the ball to you.
there was greed in your eyes, so scary that kita for a moment feared for the other team.
and it was when you did the setter dump that your whole team stood up in pure shock.
who were you and why were you hiding?
sadly the boys screamed way too loud which lead to you, after you made the last point and give the history to your tema, lifted up your gaze and saw a bunch of idiots wearing hats and everything in between.
suna and tsumu ran the fastest in the team directly to the gate, and the with a bunch of losers behind them,
because after everything you were there arms crossed and a murderous look in your eyes.
“IM TOO YOUNG TO DIE Y/N” “osamu shut up!”
they, once you made sure to pinch each and everyone’s ears, starred bombarding questions on how did you managed to learned that and why you did ikr tell them
“come on guys, in school i’m already looked down at just because it’s you! so could you imagine me being a inarizaki student trying to move without your name?”
kita forced them to shut up and aran felt a a kind of guilt
as week as everyone else
“don’t worry y/n, we know now what it’s like to not being your own author.”
and so, they just told you how proud they were.
“maybe we are jerks but y/n we are your jerks, and over there or respect to you has just grown up”
suna the says “you’ve been there all of the time for a while now, i guess it out time to return the favor”
and so ever since then they alwaaaaays try to be at your games
like pls once the referee said one of your serves was out and from the bleachers he screaaaaaaamed, he claims that it was definitely in
kita always gives you some food after a game or practice
talking about practice
even if you are there for being a manager they always try to, at least half an hour before ending practice, they have a quick game with you playing alongside them or just including you in their repeats etc
and goooood bless once again anyone who tried to look down at you.
because after being constantly on you games ofc people started recognizing them as the inarizaki power house
if they heard someone relying your talent on them pls make sure they five them the coldest look ever
like ‘nah bro i dare you to say that one more time’
*knive eyes*
and
even some girls attend your games trying to flirt with them
you know what they do?
they brush them off and say “sorry, my type is y/n” suna says and the are 😳
pretty much everyone does this
come on even aran
inarizaki best boys 🥺🥺🥺
#inarizaki#inarizaki x manager#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#inarizaki x reader#suna x reader#osamu x reader#kita x reader#atsumu x reader#atsumu imagines#hq suna#suna imagines#inarizaki manager#hq headcanons#ginjima hitoshi#akagi headcanons#aran ojiro#aran x reader#inarizaki x y/n#osamu headcanons#iwaizumi x reader#karasuno#bokuto x reader#suna headcanons#haikyuu hcs
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Not me, it's my basement (Part 3)
Notes: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Warnings: Child fear, Horror elements, Mentions of death, trauma, murder, vore.
Words: 2K+
Monsters. Despicable creatures of all sorts. Known throughout history for their calamity, world-destroying deeds. A species that slowly, one by one faded into obscurity. Never to be known to man ever again.
So, wouldn’t it be rather strange that a young boy by the name of Tommy Innit had managed to befriend a monster? It was rather strange considering that the boy was an absolute gremlin and nuisance to deal with daily.
In other words, Tommy was his own little monster, an adorable one at that. He had done nothing more than take his heart away as he and the boy slowly became closer by the day. And now, Wilbur had earned his own nickname and schedule with the boy over the course of 2 weeks.
Sure, there were still ups and downs. Tommy would still appear fearful of him, but his curiosity would also peek over that fear; He would often ask Wilbur questions about his strange abilities or appearance.
An example would be when Wilbur had woken up one day, Tommy hovering over his head as the boy had gotten up before him. Tommy’s eyes had widened over the sight of multiple sets of teeth, but instead of fear, he questioned them and tried to get a closer look.
Tommy was immediately put on Wilbur’s lap.
…
Wilbur had been doing quite a bit of work around the house because as it turns out, children are very hard to take care of. Especially Tommy, so because of his energy. He would often have to carry Tommy’s box of toys around the house.
Although he didn’t mind, what did bother him was that Tommy constantly run in between his legs and distract him every second when he was trying to do a house chore. Even though the kid was absolutely adorable, he was also very annoying.
“You need a bath, Wilby!”, the boy playfully teased as he clung onto one of Wilbur’s legs, causing him to almost trip over with the things in his arms. Fortunately, he had managed to stop himself from falling over as he looked to Tommy with a look of annoyance.
“Tommy, child. I had a bath just the other day. I do not smell nor am I dirty.”, Wilbur let out a sigh after he had finished his sentence, feeling a bit tired. In return, Tommy playfully stuck out his tongue before running off again.
Did Tommy really think he could get away with such a thing?
Wilbur let out a playful growl, putting the box he had been carrying to the floor. He noticed Tommy peek out from the hall, having heard the growl. The look had a mischievous look on his face, Tommy had known what he had done.
Wilbur quickly gave chase after Tommy, who squealed in excitement as he ran into the living room. It wasn’t long until Wilbur had caught up and the two were chasing circles around the large couch until at least one of them grew tired.
And just as Wilbur expected, it had been Tommy who had grown tired from the chase as the boy began to slow down, out of breath. Wilbur smirked at the opportunity that had arisen. As fast as he could, he pounced at Tommy, scooping up the boy.
Tommy laughed as he was twirled around in the air, raising his arms in excitement. It wasn’t long until the tired boy was brought towards his chest, he played with a lock of Tommy’s hair as he had a look of victory on his features.
“You are sleepy now, child? Would you like to sleep now?”. Tommy looked back up towards Wilbur with a pouty look on his face, determination on his face but it soon faded as Tommy let out a yawn, leaning sleepily against Wilbur’s chest.
Wilbur gave a hum in return, exiting the room and making his way back upstairs, making sure not to hit his horns on the stairway again. He entered the boy’s bedroom, walking towards the bed as he sang a lullaby in a low tone.
Another yawn escaped the boy’s mouth as Wilbur had tucked into bed, ruffling Tommy’s hair before wishing him goodnight. He didn’t leave the room though, as Tommy didn’t like being alone, scared of the darkness and nightmares.
Wilbur stuck by the boy’s side throughout the night, acting like a nightlight with his bio-luminance. It had become routine to wait for Tommy to fall asleep, only then would he allow himself to fall asleep also.
…
Tommy hadn’t been allowed outside for a little while now, cramped up inside his parent’s cottage. In Tommy’s opinion, Wilbur has been way too overdramatic about Tommy going outside! He only wants to play in the garden!
But no! He can’t because it’s apparently too dangerous! With apparently the chances of the townsfolk, Tommy knew or the possibility of encountering monsters, definitely more than an exaggerated!
So, the only thing he could really do was open the window as much as possible, lay a bunch of pillows by the said window and act really pouty. Really though, he did appreciate Wilbur’s company. Just sometimes he’d prefer to let out his energy on his own.
He tried everything! Nagging, refusing to eat food, sitting by the window, annoy Wilbur to a point he’d become pissed off. But none of it ever worked, all because Wilbur would only sigh and scoop up Tommy in his arms.
Wilbur was an odd one, it had taken Tommy a couple of days to fully start talking to him after they had made that wish together, and Wilbur had always been really patient with him. It was strange because Wilbur didn’t exactly seem like the person to be patient.
Though… That really wasn’t the only thing bothering him…
He may act happy most of the time, but the reality was that he was really confused. Wilbur had shown him a lot of kindness, but it really wasn’t the same. The pouting of the window was just him taking the time to grieve.
The reality still hadn’t hit him, that they were really dead. That they were really gone and that he would never see them again… He missed them so badly, he missed his mother’s hugs, his father’s laugh and the time they would spend together…
Now it was all gone…
He curled further into himself, a self-hug if anything as he tried to hide his whimpers and sobs. Tears flooded his eyes as he wiped at them, leaned against the wall as he looked towards the stars out the window. A sight that he missed so dearly…
…
As much as Wilbur would love to say that he and Tommy were getting closer, they were but there was still a wall there. The way the boy would look at him in fear or flinch away from a simple tap on a shoulder, maybe even the frowns he’s noticed occasionally.
He’s trying his best, and he’s made some progress. But probably nothing can ever truly fix what he had done to Tommy. So, when he had been exploring the house a bit more roughly, finding an old music box that played a beautiful melody.
Wilbur couldn’t help but let the guilt wash over him…
He had been so stressed about everything, taking care of Tommy and the possibility of others finding him and taking Tommy with him. It was a harsh reality, especially for that of a monster. Other monsters wouldn’t bat an eye at those they’ve killed.
But Wilbur had been called an outcast for a reason, exiled for good reason.
He had done nothing but mess up, it was all he ever did in his life. And now he had dragged an innocent little boy into his messes. And top of that, Wilbur had taken lives. Something he never wished to do.
He held back the whimpers in his throat, wiping away the tears in his eyes as he stared at the music box. He shouldn’t cry, at least not yet. With a sigh, he stood up and left the parent’s bedroom. Putting on his usual demeanour as he made his way towards the living room.
…
“Toms! It’s time for- “, Wilbur cut himself off at the sight of the boy crying, in his usual spot by the window. Well, as it seems he wasn’t the only one that had been crying today. With a saddened sigh, he cautiously walked towards the boy.
“Tommy, are you alright?”, he gently whispered as he cautiously walked towards Tommy. He remained at a distance when he noticed the look of fear in Tommy’s eyes that had been directed towards him.
He sat down on the floor, putting the music box beside him and with the softest face and voice he could muster, he spoke. “Hey bud, it’s okay to be scared. I’m not mad or anything, if you want to cry, then let it all out, okay?”.
And with that, even more, tears began to flood from the boy’s red eyes. His quivering lips barely holding back his whimpers as he finally let out his built-up emotion, whiling loudly as he sobbed over his dead parents.
Wilbur didn’t move, he only would if Tommy wanted his comfort, he shouldn’t have to force emotion from the boy. If Tommy didn’t want any hugs, then he didn’t have to. He should only have to know that somebody is there if needs be.
…
“I- I-“, the boy sobbed, unable to properly communicate his words. It was only then that Tommy was put aside his fear as he ran towards Wilbur, tripping along the way as he fell into Wilbur’s arms. Arms were immediately wrapped around him.
A gentle rumbling sound could be heard from the monster’s chest as he clung closer onto the yellow sweater. A giant claw gently wiped his cheeks and played with his hair in a comforting manner, humming a soft melody alongside it.
Tommy didn’t fall asleep this time though…
“Tommy, you’ve been asking to go outside quite a bit recently. Would you like to go?”, Tommy’s eyes widened at the question. Wilbur was letting him go outside now. But why? Didn’t he say it was dangerous?
Instead of asking the questions though, Tommy nodded against the monster’s chest. And with a grumble of reassurance from Wilbur, he was carefully picked up into the monster’s arms and taken outside for the first time in a while.
…
When the door had opened, Tommy couldn’t help but take a deep breath of the fresh, nighttime air. Despite it being a bit cold as he shivered in Wilbur’s arms, he didn’t mind as he smiled up towards the night’s sky.
He could hear Wilbur let out a small laugh before walking towards a tree that lay in the garden, swaying in the wind. And that’s where Wilbur sat, admiring the stars alongside Tommy throughout the night.
Time passed as the two of them enjoyed each other’s company for a while, pointing out different stars and constellations. Despite Tommy being roughly around 5-8 years old, Tommy was actually a bit knowledgeable about astronomy.
“And that star right there is Venus!”, the boy happily pointed towards one of the stars in the sky, it was remarkably impressive that the boy could easily identify the stars. It made Wilbur himself smile in joy.
And as time passed with their stargazing, Tommy being a child couldn’t quite muster the energy to stay up all night. And so, he was sent back to bed for the night. Tucked away safely in the confines of his bed.
“Goodnight, little blue. Sweet dreams”. Wilbur smiled as he ruffled his hair before returning to his usual spot, just a little different this time as a soft melody played from the music box Wilbur had found.
It was a soft and quiet melody, but one that could easily grab your attention and drag you into a night’s slumber.
He only hoped it brought Tommy some comfort.
#mcyt g/t#mcytg/t#dsmp g/t#shushi's writings#tiny!tommy#giant!wilbur#not me my basement au#tw vore mention
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
Broken (Reiner x Readerx Eren)
Plot: Heartbroken from years ago after learning Reiner's true identity, you decide to trust in Eren. However, as he takes you back to Marley, not all things are what they seem, specially when you hide a powerful secret.
Warnings: manipulation, a bit of Eren being an ass, demoting, etc
SPOILERS OF SEASON 4
You still remembered his soft, warm smile and those hazel orbs which always seemed to be filled with security and warmth. When you were with him, it felt as if you could conquer the world, crazy at it sounded. You weren’t afraid of leaving in expeditions and killing titans because you knew if there was to be an error he would be there to help you. And all those bad moments, the ones from the past, would be blown away.
That was until he became your very own nightmare, transforming into the Armored Titan before your eyes. In just mere seconds, he transformed from a charming prince into a bloody, greedy murderer. And that had been four years ago already.
You sighed deeply as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, noticing how the ODM gear got lost in your skirts and big blouses. You were finally glad you were leaving behind this type of clothing, now that you were finally revealing yourself to Marley.
“We should go,” announced the black haired man you knew so well. You nodded as you stared into his turquoise, chilly orbs, trying to find the warmth that had once been there to comfort your broken heart. “Everything will turn out just like it should,” he reassured you, kissing you in the forehead. Grabbing his hand you followed Eren to the meeting place.
****
You stood there, taking it all in while your body trembled furiously. You knew things would turn out like this, eventually, yet not this soon. Eren caressed your cheek, planting a soft kiss in your lips. “This had to be done,” he whispered softly in his ear as he turned away. “You were the key to having Reiner here.”
From the corner of your eye, you noticed a tear slipped out of Eren´s eye. Maybe, he did love you in his sick way in his deepest self.
“Get away from her,” yelled Reiner, standing up from his knees. You glanced at him, taking in his grown up features and hardened yet soft brown orbs. You could still see it, the man you loved lived inside him, even if he had tried to eliminate it.
Eren only raised his bruised hand in the air and Reiner sat back down as he growled lowly. “Y/N, really did love you,” he commented. “Or, well, she does, so there’s no need for you to act out of jealousy.”
You arched your eyebrow, not understanding what was happening. Eren took your hand and led you to sit on his lap, only to infuriate Reiner more, and you compelled, afraid the man would take your life if you didn’t. “She is such a nice little pleaser. Aren’t you, my dear, Y/N?” he teased as he caressed your cheeks and waist.
Reiner’s orbs only gre bigger with each touch, filling up with anger and pain. You only nodded, trying to look away from the blonde, so as not to harm him.
“Come, on Y/N, tell Reiner everything we did back then,” whispered Eren. “How you became mine and how I stole your heart.”
You wanted to pull away from the man, this wasn't the Eren who had healed you and stayed many nights up til dawn. In fact, why were you lying to yourself? Eren had long ago changed, and you had become his toy, pleasing him in every way he wanted to the point he would make you spy on the man you had once loved, only to hurt him.
“Leave her alone,” cried Reiner. “She… she doesn’t have to be involved. I’ll do anything you say.”
Eren chuckled as he locked eyes with the Warrior. “That’s where you are wrong,” he said. “Rener, I’m just like you, even using pretty, little Y/N to get everything I wanted.”
You still didn’t understand, how could this man use you? Had Eren finally figured it out? . “Why her, Eren?” yelled Reiner. “You could have had anyone. I didn’t use her, I really do love her… love you Y/N.”
You looked back at him, but instantaneously Eren pulled your face back towards him, rubbing your soft lips with his thumb. “Don’t play the fool. I saw it from the memories before, Marley knew it all along, and you knew it too. Y/N comes from the cursed line of Ymir, the missing piece to unlock all the founder’s potential once come in contact with royal blood.”
Your eyes widened as you turned to look at him. Since when did he know all of this? Was this even true? Reiner’s eyes opened in fear and then glanced at the floor as if in guilt and shame.
“So you were using me all alone,” you cried out to him. “Damn, you Reiner, you’re scum,” you yelled at him as tears ran down your eyes. And then you glared at Eren, knowing his love had never been true. “I bet you’ll devour me,” you commented to him, which he only denied.
“It doesn’t work like that, you see,” he explained. “In order to unlock your full potential, I need you to be truly committed, to be give what Ymir never received…love.”
Reiner got to his knees, pleading Eren to stop as he stood up and threw you to the floor. “And you’ll die with the man you never stopped loving,” said Eren, some of hate in his voice. Suddenly, he turned towards Reiner, offering him his hand to stand up. “Come on, don’t be so grim, you’ll die with Y/N, your true love.”
As he grabbed Reiner’s hand, the room started to emit sparkles. In fear, you tried to run away, however, the blonde warrior gathered Falco and you in his arms and covered you, transforming into the Armored Titan. Soon, Eren destroyed the stage, revealing to the world the monstrosity the Eldinas held inside.
****
When you came to your senses, you found yourself bleeding heavily from the head, lying next to an unconscious Reiner. You tried to reach out for him, but Falco stood in beten you. “Leave him alone,” he growled. “You’ve done too much damage.”
“Why isn’t he waking up?” you asked, knowing that as a warrior he could withstand it. “Rei, love, wake up,” you whispered, thinking you were back to those days in Paradis. You stood up, ignoring the pain and crawled towards him, caressing his face.
“Look for help,” you told Falco. He didn't buy it, until he saw you break into many pieces, crying your heart out as Reiner didn’t wake up. “Damnit, search for anyone,” you cried out. “I promised to look out for him, that’s why I pretended to go alone with Eren, just to protect him.”
Falco’s eyes widened in surprise as he saw you lay next to Reiner, finally uncious. So he ran, the fastest he could to search for help.
****
When you heard those screams, you opened your eyes, trying to make sense of everything. You could only notice Connie and Sasha around you, urging you to wake up, speaking of how Eren was about to end the fight. Around you, the titans were fighting.
“Take her,” said Sasha as Connie grabbed you bridal style and used his ODM gear to fly away. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Eren was about to eat the Jaw Titan when Reiner came out of nowhere, already transformed, and plunged at him. Effortlessly, Eren sent him flying through the skies, walking closer to the Armored Titan. In fear, adrenaline rushed through your body. As you landed in the building, you escaped Connie’s arms and Sasha’s questioning, flying straight to Eren’s shoulder.
“Well, that would explain a lot,” he sighed. “Why can't I use all my power.”
You hated him, hated his guts, and yet, you were here to make a deal with him. “Leave Reiner be and I’ll give what you want,” you confessed. “I’ll sacrifice myself so Ymir will give you the power to unlock the Rumbling.”
He got out of his titan, vapor running in all directions. “So, you knew all along, didn’t you?”
You only sighed while you nod. “A true form of self sacrifice for love,” he said. So he accepted, and allowed Mikasa to carry him off. You glanced one last time at Reiner, wishing you had been able to stay with him, and been able to forgive him. You would have had beautiful children. You smiled at him and followed Mikasa.
*****
A/N:
Hoped you liked it, guys. Uni has been killing me with all my final examns, however, I'm closer to third year of Med School than yesterday! In the next weeks, I'll have more free time, so I'll definelty post for the other fanfics. Love you, and thank you for the support
#reiner angst#reiner x reader#reiner braun#reiner x you#eren x y/n#eren x reader#attack on titan#attack on titan reiner#attack on titan eren#shingeki no kyoujin eren
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
non ducor duco | {m}
oneshot | historical! au | gang! au | 15.2k words
“The most notorious gang leader in Victorian London can gouge out the eyes of men, steal from the corrupted rich, and terrify an entire city, but cannot figure out a few complicated feelings with you.”
s u m m a r y >> the leader of the sons of seoul, the wanted criminal mastermind, christopher bang, has the courage to commit any deed save for confronting you, his most trusted accomplice, about his feelings. however, when opportunity arises, in the shape of an invitation to a grand seasonal ball, to take down his fated enemy, he takes you to the heart of a lavish estate, both of you unaware of actions that occur inside, and after the mission.
w a r n i n g s >> gonna be using chris instead of chan cause it’s set in 1860s london, chan is a dom of course, jisung and changbin are dumb and dumber, are also massive cockblockers, some cliché scenes cause i’m a sucker for them, sexual! tension!, gore, foul language, making out, dirty talk, aggressiveness, semi-public fingering, unprotected sex (stay safe homies!!), oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, chan has a thing for being called his korean name, whack spelling for ‘cum’ as ‘come’ cause technically that word didn’t exist in 1860s, there is a plot so there will be build up
a / n > > so i went way over the 10k originally planned lmfaoooo but i hope y’all enjoy this oneshot! i worked my ass off on it and hopefully y’all can appreciate gang leader chan in 1860s london cause honestly i’m a 100% whore for that concept
back to masterlist
IT WAS A UNIVERSAL LAW THAT ONE MUST NEVER FUCK WITH CHRISTOPHER BANG. EVER.
Whatever charge you may have against him, it must be withdrawn. Whatever he had done to you — robbed you, murdered your son, destroyed your entire existence — it did not matter. There were always limits, and trying to challenge this specific criminal would only result in your undoing.
It seemed the target, cornered before you and the very man himself, did not fully understand this order.
Chris Bang, in all his midnight suited glory, took a step towards the cowering man, the ends of his longcoat trailing him in the air. His gloved hands locked behind his back, a grave curve of his lips as he addressed his next victim. “Mr. Shaw, we know you have the documents.”
This said Mr Shaw hastily shook his head, raising his hands in immediate surrender. “Please, Mr. Bang,” he whimpered. “I have no inkling of what you speak of!”
“Don’t you dare lie!” You interjected, sliding out your knife, pointing it towards him. “We received reports of you. Don’t you dare forget the monthly checks we’ve sent for its safekeeping!”
“I was taking care of it, Miss!” He backed further, until the wall of his office stopped his escape. “They came to the office though.”
“Who did?!” You demanded, but the way Chris’s hand fisted in irritancy answered your question.
The Mayor had taken their shares. Once again, the tyrant had robbed them off their fortune.
“Mr. Shaw,” the man beside you started. The raw, dark matter in his voice had the owner’s eyes widening in pure fear. “Who was it specifically?”
“A really large man, about seven foot for sure…God, he had cuts all over his face, slight stubble,” he answered, knees slightly shaking. “Please, Mr. Bang, I have a family, children who have not grown—”
“Why is it that whenever man is at his weakest he mentions his loved ones?” A few stray locks escaped from Chris’ raked hair, caressing the ragged scar from his brow down to his cheek. “Why do you think that I’ll suddenly take pity because you have others who will mourn your existence?”
These questions had the man collapsing, leaning completely against the wall for support. You stole a glance at Chris, wondering if he was now capable of extracting the very souls from men. “Do not keep toying with me, Shaw,” he warned, leaning in slightly. “I know you have information.”
A soft, helpless whine escaped from the owner of the building. “Then-they'll kill me,” he mumbled, looking up at the criminal with desperation. It was a shame that never worked on a man with no sympathy.
“I can kill you too,” Chris countered, and in a flash a sleek, pocket knife appeared in his gloved hand, and hovered it right under Shaw’s chin. “So how about you tell me what you know, and I can prolong your imminent end, hmm? Does that seem fair enough?”
You almost felt sorry for the man. “H-his men…” tears formed in his eyes. “His men kept calling him Carter.”
“Brilliant,” you muttered. ‘Scar’ Carter, the Mayor’s link to the crime world, the dirty dealings of London. Carter, the lapdog of the socialites. The most irritating, disgusting son of a bitch you had ever encountered.
“I see.” The knife stayed, caressing the manager’s skin. “Now I know they’re to sell the documents. The bastard is greedy.
“Question is, Shaw, where is the transaction going to take place?”
Dear God, the man looked as if he was about to piss his trousers. “The ball.” He tried to gulp, but felt the curve of the blade. “The Mayor’s brother is holding a masquerade ball in a few days, and Carter already had a client. They’re going to do the dealing there, I swear on my children!”
A harsh scoff emitted from the criminal. “You better hope for the sake of your sons that you aren’t lying.”
“Did you get the invitations?” You asked, eyes darting around the dirtied room, the messy desks and chairs lopsided from your searching.
“Yes, yes!” He pointed to a set of drawers. “There are two in there!”
You walked towards the destination, opening the drawers and sure enough, finding the gold-edged enveloped, addressed to Shaw and his wife. “Are your names inside too?”
“No, just the envelope, but that is not important! I promise!”
You pocketed the invitations inside your coat pocket, joining your leader’s side again. Chris, after a minute of heart-wrenching silence, stood up, freeing Shaw’s neck from the knife, sliding it within his belt.
“That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” His eyes were still upon the man when he said, “Let us return.”
The both of you were ready to leave when you heard Shaw’s sudden protests.
“The Sons of Seoul, everybody!” He declared, almost hysterically. “Coming in, fucking everything up, and leaving as if nothing had ever happened!”
Chris paused in his tracks, a quiet stillness passing over his whole figure.
“What are you going to do now, Mr. Bang?” He hissed, slowly sliding up. “Are you going to infiltrate the biggest ball of the season? Create a bloodbath on the dance floor? It’s what you love to do so ardently, no?”
You heard the harsh spit smack on the office floor. “Stop meddling with the business of the British socialites. Go back to the gutter you crawled out of.” The next words overflowed with hatred. “Go back to where you really came from, you slit-eyed prick.”
Your eyes flashed in shock, swerving around to see the raging expression on Shaw’s beady little face. Fisting your hands, you were ready to knock him out when you felt the man beside you move.
Chris whirled around, eyes promising a horrifying future as he pounced upon the manager.
A yelp was heard as Chris’ fingers dug at the corner of Shaw's eyes, and relished the cries of terror as with a roar of his own, he squeezed with his thumb and forefinger, swelling the balls of vision from their sockets. With a loud pop! the two eyes tore from their origins, gooey residue trailing down his face as Christopher Bang palmed the two organs in his hands.
He observed his victim bellowing in pain as he fell to his knees, hands covering his bloodied sockets. A ghostly smirk accompanied his lips. "Better slit-eyes than none at all."
You had to suppress the severe shivers that threatened to break your stance.
Shaw broke the universal law. His undoing was inevitable.
He flung the eyes upon the owner, and turned on his heel, eerily cool as he walked out of the office, blood and goo still on his black gloves. Not a hair ruffled upon his pretty head.
You spared a look at the victim, crying out in infinite pain, hands on his sockets still. “Do not fuck with Christopher Bang,” was all you said, before following the devil out of the building.
The afternoon London heat hit you as you exited the offices, Chris waiting as he examined the filthy streets surrounding you. People of all classes strolled by, beggars on the street asking for two-pence, children selling newspapers down the corners, and carriages riding away on the wide roads. The man still did not clean his gloves from the mess, and you pointed this out as you arrived at his side.
“It does not bother me,” he waved you off, but you brought out your leather skin.
“Bring your hands out,” you ordered.
Chris scowled. “I said I’m alright,___.” He began walking forwards, towards your humble abode, not far away from your starting point. “Besides, whoever strolls past us, they’ll second guess their evil intentions against us.” You glanced over the strange looking fellows, scattered across the roads. “Shows I am not afraid to get my hands dirty.”
“Whatever,” you mumbled. “Dirty pig.”
You felt daggers glaring into you. “What did you say?”
“You heard me,” you said, turning a corner, already catching sight of the docks. “I expect this behaviour from Jisung. Perhaps even Changbin, but not from you.”
“Enough with this,” the man ordered, irritancy clear in his voice. Grumbling, you walked beside him in silence, the Thames entering your vision. You wished it would have radiated a rich, clear blue body of water, but from the stench which even reached your nose, it would be impossible. The river, a dump for the sewers, the rubbish disposed daily, was a toxic mass of water, and the cause of thousands dying from drinking its contents. When you first joined the Sons you nearly drank from the river, being saved only by Chris’ rough hand slapping the cup away. You remembered you received a harsh scolding from him that day, immediately providing you with clean water after to quench your thirst.
A small smile curved onto your lips at the memory.
“Hand it over.”
You perked your head up to see his filthy, gloved hands out. “What is it?” You asked.
“The water.”An irritated sigh escaped him. “I’ll clean the bloody gloves.”
Your smile grew as you handed him the leather skin. “But only because I don’t ever want to be associated with Jisung and Changbin,” he added, and you only laughed, watching the man rub the mess off his attire as you both arrived at the docks.
The first sounds heard were not of the boats bellowing at port, nor the waves lapping in underneath the stilts.
No, all you were welcomed with was a string of curses, spat by Seo Changbin.
“You fucking bastard, how dare you—”
“Here we go again,” you caught Chris muttering, who quickened his pace, thundering to where the two of his sidemen fought, caught in a scrap.
Han Jisung’s whines were carried through the river air, burning into your eardrums. “Bin, no, I said I’m sorry—!”
When you caught up to Chris, he opened his mouth, exasperation clear in his voice. “Boys!” He exclaimed.
Immediately the fighting ceased. The boys addressed, Changbin atop Jisung, ready to throw the final punch, turned back to see his leader scowling. Jisung let out a yelp, throwing the former from him and scrambling to his feet. Changbin followed suit, a little more slowly after rubbing his side in agony.
“Why the fuck,” Chris started, pointer finger darting between his two men, “Are you both fighting again?”
Changbin, fixing his ruined locks with his hand, shot his best friend a glare. “He took my fucking scones again.” He groaned, much too loud. “God, I specifically stored them in a place where no one would find them, but this greedy pig still managed to snuff them out!”
Jisung, a slender and more comical figure, crossed his arms, raising his chin in stubbornness. “I did not see a bloody name on them! Tell me Bin,” he matched his opponent’s stare. “Did you write down your name with blood-red ink across the scones? Because I certainly did not see the words Seo Changbin scrawled on the surface!”
“Argh!” The elder of the two turned his raging gaze towards the leader, who was watching his subordinates with slight distaste. “Chris, permission to cut off his tongue for being the bane of my existence?!”
Chris only stepped past them, heading for the big wooden table situated near the gang’s warehouse. The sounds of ships sailing in the dirty waters thrummed to the port, shouting heard all around over new, imported goods. “Another time, Changbin,” he only said, bringing out a chair and sitting down, propping an ankle over a knee. “I have encountered enough organ slicing for the day.”
Jisung’s face twisted in awed curiosity, settling himself down beside Chris. “Without me?” he let out a disappointed whine, turning to you. “I trusted you, at least!”
“I was surprised myself, Ji,” you argued, raising a hand towards the aloof man as you sat opposite your friend. “I didn’t know Chris gouged out Shaw’s eyes until they were in his hand!”
“You truly are a selfish man,” Changbin complained, plopping himself on the last seat. “Alway keeping the fun for yourself and ____.”
You did not really know why your face flushed a little at his charge, but you made sure to whack Changbin in the gut, earning a pained groan from the boy.
Chris locked his hands upon the table. “Well, gentlemen, then it is time for you to join in on the entertainment.”
The two boys exchanged confused glances. On cue, you brought out the pair of invitations within your coat pocket, tossing them to the table. “The Mayor’s brother is holding a ball,” you explained, rolling your eyes at the boys tearing open the envelopes, yanking out the oblong, cartridge paper, details inked with a precise hand. “Since it does not have names, anyone can enter the estate.”
Jisung let out an excited yell, grabbing onto Changbin’s arm. “Binnie, we can actually have some fun!”
“Not so fast, boys,” Chris said, tightening his gloves. “The invitations are not yours.”
Changbin’s face immediately fell. “Are you fucking kidding me—”
The elder held out a finger, silencing the complaints, but not the quiet grumbling of his members. “As I was saying,” he continued, hands interlocking once more, “____ and I will use the invitations to get inside, with the two of you as our bodyguards.”
“Marvellous!” Jisung exclaimed, sarcasm practically dripping on his words. “Absolutely fan-fucking-tastic!”
“Jisung,” Chris warned, “How about you clean the shit off the docks instead?”
“Chan,” you murmured, causing him to glance at you. His sour expression almost softened at the word, the name which only few have ever said to him. You pondered at the time the two boys, sat to your right, tried teasing him with this name, and nearly earned an ass-beating. You, on the other hand, rather liked the way the name sounded on your tongue.
Perhaps, you wished dearly, he liked the way it sounded on your tongue too.
The man, after a pause, averted his eyes from you, focusing them on his comrades. “You both can still enjoy the festivities, but you have to keep a low profile, because while ____ and I are socialising and distracting the guests, you both need to find Carter.”
“Is he at the party too?” Changbin propped his elbows on the table. “Lord above, I’ve been wanting to kick his arse for a while.”
“So you both just frivol away, then?” Jisung whined. “I want to drink and dance!”
“And you both will,” Chris persisted. “We all will keep a lookout for Carter and his dealings, and if any of us find him first, you report to me. At my signal, you and Changbin will break through their trade. I will be behind you as long as I slip away without anyone discovering our motives.”
You look to your leader. “There’s another problem.”
The three all turned to you. “If we are to go to the most lavish ball of the season, we certainly need to dress for it.” Suddenly, you sounded like a little girl when you pointed out, “I do not have a gown to wear for the evening.”
An eyebrow raised upon Chan’s face, while Changbin and Jisung snickered, puckering their lips. “Aww, poor little ____ has no lace to woo the rich men!”
You made to slap the pair’s arms and narrowly missed, glaring. “As if you animals have any decent attire to wear for the ball! When was the last time you wore a proper tailcoat?”
That was enough for their teasing to cease, but Changbin was adamant. “Don’t throw me in with Jisung! He doesn't even bother to shower!”
“Oi, you bastard!”
The pair were ready to fight once more when Chris cleared his throat.
“You’re right,____.”
A glance at the man who said it. “I have only seen you in stealth gear and rags, the first time I met you.” He leaned back in his creaking chair. “Perhaps it is time to flower you up a little.”
Jisung and Changbin were about to chuckle once again when you shot them a dirty look.
“I will order evening attire tomorrow,” Chris decided. “They will arrive on the day of the ball, which is adequate enough timing.
“Now,” he declared, standing. “Are we all aware of what we have to do?”
The two boys turned sheepishly to you, who sighed and addressed the leader. “You and I attend the ball with these two fools as our bodyguards—”
“Hey!”
“____!”
“We maintain a believable facade and enjoy ourselves while also looking out for Carter and the documents. Once we find out where he is, Changbin and Jisung take him away, and we slip out of the party unnoticed.”
Chris, after a pause, nodded, a ghost of a smile upon his lips. “Good girl.”
And just like that, he left the table, your eyes a little wide and heart a little raced.
When Chris retreated into the warehouse, the two boys turned their malicious gazes towards you, smirking much too wide for your liking.
“Do not,” you snapped, cheeks burning deeper, earning a smattering of laughter from the bastards.
“Whatever you say, good girl,” Changbin simpered, Jisung repeating the damned endearment until you hastily stood from your chair.
You rewarded them both with your middle finger before storming back into another warehouse, Chris’ words still engraved in your mind.
Just as Christopher Bang had predicted, the new attire arrived on the day of the ball.
More planning had been explained, more additions to the grand scheme of the evening which was mere hours away. The gang was ready, but you can never be perfectly anticipated for any ideas gone amiss.
You even taught Jisung and Changbin to dance, ranging from the Polka to the Viennese Waltz, which was popular amongst high society in the growing years of Queen Victoria’s reign. They were terrible at the start, both of them always falling on each other, but with hard effort they learned quickly, almost perfecting the art of leading your partner on the ballroom floor.
You had not bothered asking the other if he wished to learn. There was something about him which made you think that he could do anything. Not once had he ever doubted your theory.
It was as if there was nothing in the world he could not know like the back of his gloved hand.
Thoughts like these were what filled you with such awe for him. Such deep-rooted pride that you worked under this man. Those thoughts did, however, curve into darker corners — when his midnight-lined eyes and raven figure haunted you in restless nights.
You aggressively shook your head, swinging your legs over the dock. Sitting upon the wood, you watched the sun descend slowly, the stark yellows and whites of the sky beginning to darken. Ships docked and stayed, men with their filthy language and filthier intentions flocked outside, and strange women with too-tight corsets and lips too rosey, smirking at the newcomers, carrying out their own ways of living.
Sometimes, you’d watch this run-down life move on in this exact same spot, thanking the lucky stars for not being one of the boys with the weights on their backs, nor the girls with the untied top corsets. You thanked the same man, who brought you out of that hell, giving you the chance to fight all this wrong embedded in London.
You also thanked him, especially that day, for calling you that endearment.
God. The man was a criminal, yet you were the one being imprisoned.
“____!”
You turned, heaving to your feet when you see Jisung running to you, packages in his hands. “Your gown’s inside!” He exclaimed, gummy smile lighting up his entire face.
Throwing you the box, you caught it just before it flew into the Thames, shooting the boy a wary glare. “Careful,” you said, looking over the silk ribbon tied into a perfect bow upon the middle. Although there were greater happinesses in life, small ones such as new dresses had you in near giggles.
“I’ve got my very own tailcoat now,” Jisung yelled, ripping open the packaging, about to whip out his new clothing when you waved him to stop.
“Do it inside, Ji, or you’ll ruin your outfit!”
“Trust him to fuck up a perfectly new suit before trying it on,” Changbin’s voice drawled through the dock, who held a box of his own. “Also, the boss is saying to quit dallying and start dressing!”
You obliged, holding onto your box tenderly as you entered a little building beside the main warehouse, consisting of everyone’s rooms and privies. Your eyes glanced to Chris’ bedroom door before pushing open the door to yours, stepping inside to the small, yet decorated space, filled with a board of knives and bows displayed upon one wall and an erratic strokes of paint brushed along the textured surfaces, courtesy of Jisung and Changbin’s lack of motivation to finish your room. An undone bed was tucked into the corner, and a large mirror stood on its curled railing in the other corner, revealing yourself, hands underneath the package.
The sun fell further, sky being painted with dark oranges and purple and pinks, staining your bedroom the colours of soft autumn as you put your package on the bed, untying the ribbon and unboxing the whole treat.
The first glance of the dress had you smiling in pure incitement.
You brought the dress out of its box, letting it trail free right down to your toes, holding it to arm’s length to examine the details : it was a mysterious, dark red, a colour which instantly attracted attention within the golds of the ballroom. The neck line was low, dipping just enough to tempt until it swelled over for the openings for the arms, black ruffles on the fabric to accentuate off shoulders. The intricate, midnight detail was stitched to perfection, creating a network of swirls upon the bodice before flaring out into the wider skirts. Dear God, you had never seen such an exquisite dress on any noble lady in this damned city.
Your smile grew a little wider. Christopher Bang, once again, has not disappointed.
You turned it on it’s back, mouth parting in surprise at the silk lacing, undone and trailing down the dress, waiting to be tied and admired. Realising that we’re you to wear this, the entire ball would see your back half-exposed. Even the man you’re to be escorted with.
The thought alone made your insides sing.
Chris had ordered this dress. He knew what he was acquiring for you, what he asked you to dare.
Well, you were happy to oblige. Something within you wished to see his eyes blaze at you in the gown.
Closing the curtains of your room, you quickly lit up a metallic lamp, orange light leaking onto your dresser and walls. Setting the source upon a stool, you began shedding your coat, tossing it on the bed before going to the dresser.
You spent about ten minutes on your hair, lifting locks upward and curling them into a messy bun. You brought out clips of pearls, attaching them at the back of your hair, letting the few stray curls bounce along your ears and neck.
After finishing your hair you began shedding your clothing, excitement rushing in your gut at the thought of wearing the ballgown. When you were adorned in nothing but your underthings, you grabbed onto the arms of the new dress, entering one leg into the opening before sliding the other. You raised the gown, fitting the bodice upon yourself and the short sleeves cuffing just under your shoulders.
Looking over your shoulder at the back, it was bare before the mirror, saving your rear only with a small dip which was edged with more black lace. The laces for tightening the back still hung uselessly, begging to be entangled with their partners.
And you tried to oblige. You truly did, straining your hands behind your back and trying your hardest to tie the laces with the opposites, of creating a pattern adequate enough for the ball and announce your preparation. Unfortunately for you, your fingers refused to assist you that moment in the evening.
Letting out an irritated sigh, you called for your friends.
“Jisung!” you shouted, hands endeavouring still. “Changbin!”
Your back still to the door, you waited for the two fools to arrive, but no one came. Again, you called their names, but to no avail, only silence answering you.
“I swear to the Lord,” you muttered, arms now starting to hurt from the stretching. You were about to bring the warehouse down with your roar when you heard the door quietly creak open, the sound of boots emitting against the floor.
“Ah, finally,” you began as you turned around, hands clutching the bodice of the dress, ready to be irritated by your comrades when all words abandoned your tongue.
There, standing by the door, in all his midnight-tainted glory, was Chris Bang.
You hated how your eyes widened at the sight of him.
The man always took care of his appearance, but that evening he had truly outdone himself - His infamous woollen longcoat was hung over his arm, exposing his black tailcoat, shining slightly in the flickering lamp light. His waistcoat underneath fit snug, and his white cravat tie peaked just above the lapels, caressing his Adam’s apple. His raven locks were slicked back, a few stray flyaways drooping over his forehead. The gloves were worn still, skin never exposed.
You caught his eyes flicker, something within stirring at seeing you, holding onto your dress in case it fell to the floor. The prolonging silence was shattered when you forced yourself to speak.
“Chris,” you said, because his name was the first thing, the only thing you could comprehend.
He, too, inhaled, slowly. “Jisung and Changbin...they’re outside, so they could not hear.”
“Oh.”
Another round of silence. God, you wished you could just say something to him, anything which wasn’t a single syllable—
“____.”
You snapped into focus. “Yes?”
“Why did you call them?”
Blinking, you stumbled, “I, I just needed help with…” your hand gestured to your back. “...with the laces.”
There was an indecipherable undertone in his next words. “You could have called me.”
“You’re here now.”
Again. The world-heavy pause upon the both of you.
A few more seconds ticked by when Chris set his coat upon the dresser chair. His eyes never left yours.
“Turn around.”
You dragged your gaze away from his as you complied, baring your back before him, laces dangling. His footsteps sounded from behind you, and his presence was felt, large and magnetic.
Leather sliding from skin, you sensed his eyes on you, taking in your illuminated skin. You had the greatest urge to shiver, but suppressed it, waiting for his next move.
A small breath hitched in your throat when Chris grabbed onto the first pair of laces and tugged them back, pulling you to him.
Almost too conveniently, your rear backed against his crotch, and a minute noise escaped you before putting some distance between you two again. You instantly regretted the action, already missing the mere caress of what lay underneath his trousers.
“Stop fidgeting,____,” he ordered, and you immediately stilled, the tug still adamant at your back. Almost disgraceful how quickly you listened to him.
Slowly, he tied the first bow, right to the small of your back. When he started on the second, though, the first touch of his fingers against your back threw you off guard.
You should have expected this. You should have known from the start of his task that his fingers would graze your skin but each caress was like a lick of fire, threatening to singe the skin. Your breath caught in your throat, each time Chris touched you.
Those damned fingers skirted upwards, tying up the laces with such delicacy it nearly softened your stance, if only you didn’t notice his growing warmth. You realised with no small amount of pleasure that he, too, was possibly flustered.
Christopher Bang. Flustered over a girl.
You almost gasped when his hands brought a few stray curls over your shoulder, the dip of your neck exposed as he began the final bow of your gown. The process was excruciatingly slow, each little caress enough for you to turn around and—
And what?
How you desperately wanted to find out.
Sensing the ribbon curling upon your neck, you understood.
“It is done,” he whispered, and you shifted at the sigh which kissed your skin. God, he was so close, you were scared that if you turned around his lips—
You did not need to worry when you felt strong hands grip your shoulders, whirling you around in a sudden fashion. Your eyes widened at the close proximity of his face, his beautiful fucking face, and the warm, slender hands on your naked shoulders.
“Chan,” you let yourself say, and you swore the criminal’s eyes darkened. His grip on you tightened.
Perhaps he would have closed the distance, saved you from desperation when someone knocked on the goddamn door.
“___?!”
“Hurry up, the carriage is waiting!”
“Women, honestly—!”
You yelped at the sound of your friends bellowing behind the door. Even Chris looked a little surprised, a slight tick in his jaw as the noise grew louder.
Grabbing onto your skirts, you thundered towards the door, furrowing your brows as you twisted the knob, opening to see the same two idiots, shooting you irritated glares.
“Is Miss Fancy-Shmancy finally ready?” Changbin drawled, propping a hand upon his hip, tails of his coat dangling behind him.
“Madame certainly took her time,” Jisung went on, sauntering into your bedroom without a care. “Might as well not attend the ball at all—”
His incessant rambling was instantly ceased when he saw Chris standing before you, putting on his gloves. His face was impassive as ever, save for the jaw still tightened.
“Oh, Chris,” he said, and started backing away to the door. “The carriage is outside.”
“Let us go, then,” he only replied as he grabbed his longcoat, strolling out of your bedroom, leaving your skin tingling and heart confused.
Changbin watched Chris exit the building, turning to you with a raised brow. “What was the Mr. Thorns-up-his-arse doing in your room?”
You scoffed at the nickname, picking up the invitations from the dresser. “He was just helping me.”
Jisung’s lips curved into a smirk. “Helping you…?”
“Stop it!” You demanded, but both of the boys could see the blush on your cheeks, even from the dim lamp light.
“Come on, now,____,” Changbin said, holding out an arm, and hitting Jisung’s arm to do the same. “Let us follow Chris before he shouts at us for keeping you here.”
“Don’t say such things,” you cooed, looping your arms with the two boys. “He will kill you outright instead.”
Laughter emitted from the two, leading you out of the room, down the halls and soon the building.
The carriage was waiting at the entrance of the dock, horses neighing softly at your arrival. Jisung opened the carriage door, letting you climb inside. Chris, inside already, held out a hand, you taking it as he had you sit beside him. His hard figure brushed against your shoulders, reminding you of his fingers on your back not too long ago.
Just like that, you slumped against the seating. That man was truly going to be the death of you.
When the two boys scrambled inside, Chris’ hand thudded against the roof, indicating it to start riding. The carriage obliged to his command.
The small, interwoven streets widened as the carriage rode upon the main roads, going faster with each signal of Chris’ hand. The inside was alive with Jisung gloating shamelessly over his checkered waistcoat, with Changbin giving reassurances for his “ugly face ruining the clothing.” You laughed at every jab the two threw at each other, but would tense at the erratic touches Chris’ knee would send with every shake of the vehicle. Although the many layers of skirts cushioned these brushes, the blood rushing to your cheeks was evidence enough - everything he did made you so unhinged.
Soon, the big roads led from filthy, back-to-back housing to larger homes, the further the dirty central city strayed from you. A few touches of countryside teased your view when you saw mansions, estates the size of neighbourhoods gracing the surroundings. The carriage began to slow down, as more people adorned in fine attire entered your window view, no doubt going to the same destination as the gang.
The most illuminated estate welcomed you as the carriage stopped right before its vast, colourful gardens, smattering of couples taking intimate walks along the hedges. Chris, noticing the destination, opened the door, Changbin following suit. As the former got out he held out his hand to you. Surprised by his sudden manners, you took his hand, stepping down from the carriage, careful of your skirts as they brushed against the pavement. Jisung and Changbin were right beside you, uttering the driver to come back within a couple of hours.
“Now,” Chris began, bringing your hand to his arm. “You both stay behind me and ____. You wouldn’t need invitations if you both act like our bodyguards.”
“Right behind you, boss,” Jisung chanted, counting his knives inside his coat pockets. Changbin took one of the weapons from him, sliding it up his trouser sleeve, securing it with a leather ankle strap.
“Right.” the gang all looked at each other, silent understanding passing between all of you.
“Let’s ruffle some rich feathers.”
With your hand still on his arm, the leader of the Sons of Seoul led his gang inside of the massive estate.
Guards at the entrance shot you grave looks as they stopped you. “Invitations,” they said. You obliged, bringing out the golden paper. They looked over, convinced, and gave them back to you.
You and Chris were about to enter when Jisung and Changbin were stopped behind you. “Protection,” Chris said, but the guards were unconvinced.
“They need invitations too,” was their answer.
Dread, slight yet present, began to fill your stomach. Has the mission failed before it could even begin?
“I suggest you let them in, too,” Chris only said, black eyes piercing the two men with a glare. “Or my friend hosting this party will hear of this inconvenience.”
That seemed to stir the guards, for they said nothing more, letting your friends enter the estate. Jisung and Changbin made sure to smirk at the men before sauntering inside behind you.
Your eyes, upon stepping inside the main hall, were welcomed with paradise.
Gold. gold upon gold was painted, lined, moulded everywhere, upon the walls, on the floor, on the painted ceiling, hypnotising you with its kaleidoscopic pattern. Swirls of white and silver journeyed along the walls, and the floor bore solid treasures, sculpted into the ground and shining exquisitely from the chandelier lighting. Hundreds of lords and ladies, businessmen and escorts populated the manor, either being moved by the orchestral band, dancing, helping themselves to food from the lines of dishes or simply mingling among others.
It was the chaos of the rich. A place you didn’t quite fit in.
You stole a glance at the man beside you. Even though he looked contained as ever, you felt his arm tightening all over. Perhaps he knew he did not belong in this world either.
The grim understanding was cut off when Changbin’s shrill gulp sounded from behind you.
“Scones!”
The man immediately dashed towards the food section, earning blatant laughter from his friends as Jisung stepped beside Chris. “Once he’s done stuffing himself, we’ll get into positions.” He skirted his eyes over the buzzing crowd. “I have already spotted some of Carter’s men in different corners of the hall, so we can see where they’re going to go.”
“Any signs of Carter?” you asked, already feeling suggestive eyes on your body, the dark red curves of your figure.
“He’ll show himself soon,” Chris promised, beginning to take a step forward. “The bastard thrives in attention.” He turned to Jisung. “Make yourself scarce.”
He then saw Changbin making himself much too comfortable with the jam scones rapidly declining in his wake. “And for God’s sake, control Changbin.”
Jisung shook his head, mocking a salute before strolling to his friend. You and him were left to your own activities, and soon you felt the tug of his body, leading you further into the hall.
You looked up to see him scouring the room. His brows furrowed slightly, that stiffness felt underneath your fingertips. “Chris,” you called to him, and were answered with an uncertain stare.
“I’m alright,” he said, walking along the lines of the dance floor, looking away when he gave you the false assurance.
You did not know what was going on. In other missions his composure would never falter — this was what he was so notorious for, being calm despite the anarchy around him. Never before had you seen him so tense.
“Stop it.”
You blinked back into reality. “What?”
“You’re doing it again,” he hissed, raking his hand through his hair. “Looking at me that way. Like I’m about to snap.”
A pout formed on your lips, looking up at him underneath your lashes. “I can sense you’re distressed.” You squeezed his arm in comfort. “I cannot help if I worry for you, Chris.”
With small surprise, you found him soften, only slightly. “I just…” he sighed in exasperation. “I hate parties.”
You understood the connotations. Wealthy parties. The men and women who throw them.
“And I, too,” you agreed, earning a soft snort from the man. Your heart warmed a little at the sound, and thankfully the tension faded between the two of you, not necessarily from each other but from the socialites around you.
Your heart, however, received no such rest, beating much too loud for your liking.
The two of you took another turn of the room before a low, arrogant drawl paused you both in your tracks.
“Mr Christopher Bang.”
You and your leader both sighed simultaneously.
Turning, you tilted your head upwards to none other than ‘Scar’ Carter, smirking ridiculously down at the the two of you. He was something out of a children’s book, the grotesque villains with wanned skin and beady looks, ready to pounce and make you disappear without you ever realising. Although young, he looked to be in his mid-forties, unkept locks and curled moustache, being played by his fingers.
He held out his other hand, extending the smile to the man beside you. “Always a goddamned blessing to see you.”
Chris assessed his hand for a moment before he let go of your grip on his arm, slipping off his gloves. His own olive coloured hands were roughened, no doubt from years of manual labour. He took Carter’s hand, shaking the greeting in place, and the latter turned his enemy’s hold, looking over at the new image inked upon the hand.
“What is this, Chrissy?” He mused, the nickname causing the said-man’s lips to twitch. “Some flowery poetry?”
Your eyes strayed to what he meant; just under his thumb, where the joint began, was a tattoo, inked deeply in a cursive hand. It was a phrase you had never knew the meaning of, nor had you asked, but the Latin was beautiful on his textured skin.
NON DUCOR DUCO.
“Not poetry, Carter,” he only said, tracing his sole tattoo with a finger. “But something I live by.”
Despite Carter towering over the man, Chris Bang pinned him with a piercing glare. His signature phantom smile appeared on his lips.
“I am not led. I lead.”
The giant’s shit-eating grin faltered. You could not help but let a small chuckle escape at his reaction.
And maybe you shouldn’t have shown amusement, because when he focused his animalistic gaze upon you, you had the sudden urge to hold onto the man beside you again.
“Ah, Miss ____,” he jeered, mocking a deep bow which you did not return. “Chris’ little...protégée.”
He then held out his hand to you, and you knew it was not to shake the gnarled fingers. “Would you do me the honour of dancing with you?”
You scoffed, anger bubbling within your veins. How dare he even ask you, after all the trouble he had caused for the gang? Smirking as if it was all a little game.
Your mouth parted, ready to reject him outright when a warm hand settled on your back.
Chris’ fingers stroked the exposed skin, skirting over the lacing, and despite the heavenly feeling, you knew what this signal really meant.
Distraction. This would be the perfect opportunity to divert Carter’s attention while Chris joined in the other’s search. Listening to the instrumental, you realised that would spare them another five minutes.
Reigning in your fury, you offered the bastard a thin-lipped smile before taking his hand, already missing the mere touch of another seconds before.
Carter led you to the dance floor among the other dancers, you hardly radiating the same enthusiasm as the others accompanying you. The man’s other hand, one still holding yours, snaked around your waist, and you hated how it felt against your back, pure distaste staining your features as he tried to impersonate the idle lace curling that Chris did.
As if it physically hurt, you propped a hand upon his shoulder, and when the music began, the game started.
The giant kept ogling at you as the sly grin appeared on his lips. “I must say, I am very envious of Chris.”
You matched his stare. “Of course you would,” you only said, trying your best to sound like your leader, who was an embodiment of calmness. “You can never be the man Chris is.”
“Oh, I did not mean by what he is, my lady,” he corrected. “I meant by what he has.”
He pulled you to him, much to close, and you hissed as the fingers behind you played on your back. “He is much too lucky to possess a creature like you, Miss ____.”
Good God. If he endeavoured to make you as uncomfortable as possible, then he was doing a splendid job. You regretted ever listening to Chris, but for the plan, you will do what is necessary.
As if on cue, you felt dark, piercing eyes on you. By the little hairs which stood at the back of your neck, there was no doubt who watched over you, murmuring progress with Jisung as he sipped wine on a tightly held flute.
“Tell me, sweet,” he began once more, making you lose your thoughts, turning about the room as the music went on. “Why do you work for a man like him?”
You sighed at the question. Truly this man did not know how to initiate small talk. “Why is that any of your concern?”
“Because I’ve seen you in action,” he answered, and you could not mistake the awe that threatened to expose in his voice. “You have incredible potential, my lady, and it pains me that Chris does not use you properly. You waste your efforts in a silly gang.”
His condescending speech made you dig his nails in his hand. “Careful, Carter,” you seethed, watching his face crumple in pain from your action. “The silly gang you speak of will not hesitate to obliterate your entire organisation. And neither will I.”
Rage flashed in his eyes as he grinned at your claim. “I doubt the esteemed Christopher Bang would even let you participate,” he drawled, grazing his fingers against your back. “You being his whore is enough for him.”
You parted your mouth in slight shock. The reaction quickly evaporated with pure, unadulterated fury. A lot of people speculate your true relationship with Chris, but your own demeaning always struck deep. How dare people think that you only have the power you have because you slept with the greatest criminal in the city?
With your head raging, you sent your low heel down upon Carter’s boot, a yelp escaping the man as his dancing faltered, grip on you loosening. Fortunately for you, the orchestra smoothed their music to a close, and small applause rang around the room, you joining as you smiled at Carter’s slight groaning.
When the giant looked at you again, all his arrogance was gone, instead a face of wrath. “You bitch-”
You were sure he was going to strike, despite hundreds in the ballroom. Even your smug demeanour dampened when you saw his bear-like hand raise when its journey was paused.
Ceased completely as Chris’ hand wrapped around Carter’s wrists.
Your leader’s smile was sharp, like a decorated dagger. “Are you already creating a scene, just when you finished the first dance?”
Carter, dumbfounded by his enemy’s sudden presence, waved off the foreign grip on his hand. “You are never going to find the documents,” he crowed, glaring at the two of you.
Chris, the magnificent bastard, only kept his magnetic smirk as he took your hand, enveloping his fingers with yours. “We shall see about that,” he promised, and dipped his head in adieu, turning on his heel and taking you with him.
You felt your heart flutter when his grip on you stayed, even when Carter stomped off into the crowd. “Bastard,” you hissed. A hum of agreement followed.
Soon, music began to play a sensual tune, and you looked to the couples joining in the main circle of the floor. You made to leave that area when you felt the man refused to be led.
You looked back, noticing an uncertain emotion swirling in his eyes. “The dance is about to begin.”
“So?” he merely said, hands still clasping yours. The people around you began to take positions.
“Chris,” you got out. “You do not dance.”
A small smile enveloped his mouth at the claim. He answered in wrapping a hand around you, making you suck in a breath. You caught sight of the tattoo inked on his skin as he raised his hold on. NON DUCOR DUCO.
I am not led. I lead.
“You’re right,” he admitted. As the first tune of the violin settled in the ballroom, the man took a step. “But I let it slide on special occasions.”
You did not reply, only staring at him as you happily let him turn you about the dance floor.
Your assumptions were correct - Chris Bang was a wonderful dancer. The man already possessed a natural smoothness in his usual movement, but the way he led you across the room gave fluidity another meaning entirely. His hand on your back was an anchor to reality, keeping you from dreaming away in the skies above, and his fingers, interlocked with yours, were a silent promise that he was never letting you go.
You were so caught up in your fantasies that you did not hear what Chris said until he called your name.
“____.”
You perked up, raising your brows. “Yes?
“Did Carter say anything to you?” His fingers on your exposed skin began to caress you, and it took a lot within you to stay calm. “You were seething while you both danced.”
Oh, so he was watching you. The information didn’t help your nerves. “He was being his usual, charming self,” you drawled, careful of your feet.
He paused a bit at your unhelpful answer. “I see,” he got out, index curling with the ribbon of your back. You let out a shuddered breath, not going unnoticed by the man.
You changed the subject, focusing on the mission. “Are Jisung and Changbin still searching for the documents?”
Chris, on the note, twirled you delicately, and brought you back into his arms. “They have discovered the hideout, and have taken down half the men,” he informed, and you sighed in relief. “They’ll find what we’re looking for soon.”
“I hope so, too,” you murmured, listening to the music ascend in its pitch.
So much finery radiated in this room. As your eyes drifted to the surroundings once more, you became slightly envious of the family fortunate enough to reside in this estate, and drink in the liquid gold splattered everywhere in the vast hall. Complaints were heard from a rather nasty woman, who screamed at a young servant for spilling wine on her oh so expensive dress, and the jewellery which glittered upon necks and ears.
This. you hated this. Despised the wealth which accumulated in this ball, this entire neighbourhood. Not months ago you were about to die from the lack of food in your stomach. No doubt these people simply relished another one of these many balls, occurring every season.
It was the only reason the Sons of Seoul existed in the first place. To battle the ranks of the rich, and establish a sense of justice which had long faded from London.
Perhaps Chris sensed your growing disgust at the environment, for he sighed. “I hate these people.”
You nearly smiled at how similar you both think.
His touches still had you nearing closer to him as he continued, “I hate how everyone here can simply enjoy themselves without a care in the world. I hate the Mayor for letting this chaos happen as he sits back on his arse, corruption spiking under his office.”
His anger grew. “I hate that pig-headed prick Carter and all the trouble he’s brought me. I hate that he stole those documents and constantly fucks with me as if we two had not crawled out of the same hellhole.
“And God,” he snapped, pure venom now lacing his tongue, “I hate how he was touching you as if you were no one but his.”
Your eyes widened at the confession.
He groaned out in frustration, fingers tightening on your hand. “I hate how Jisung and Changbin walked in on us this evening. Despise that the moment I was about to close the distance they burst through the door, leaving me helpless. And I hate feeling helpless.”
You did not know what to say, what words to comfort him with. Not when you were thinking the exact same thing, and felt the exact same agitation, particularly at your core.
The man leaned in, eyes heavy lidded. “You know what I hate the most, ____?”
Gulping, you let out a little, “What?” afraid of what he was going to reveal.
His tongue ran along his bottom lip, fingers continuing their teasing.
“I-” he seethed, gripping your back tightly. “Fuck, I hate how ravishing you look in that dress.”
You parted your mouth in shock, blushing the colour of roses. “Why do you hate that?” you only asked, breath almost lost in your lungs as your blood began to thrum beneath your skin.
His eyes lost all dreamy light when a small curve enveloped his lips. “Because, my dear ____,” he muttered hoarsely, each breath ragged, “It makes me think of all the things I want to do to you.”
The strong hand on his back was felt much more, fingers playing with the laces of your dress. You nearly cried out in front of a hundred people over their idle play, and his bold, bold statement.
Chris relished in your whimpering reaction. “Aren’t you going to ask me?” he whispered, leaning in till his mouth hovered near your ear. “Do you not want to know what I wish to do to you?”
“What,” you rasped out, grip tightening over his neck. “What are you going to do?”
His husky chuckling nearly sent you over the edge. “I’ll find a nice little space, away from Carter and all these people,” he began, breath caressing your skin. “Then I’ll kiss you slowly, like so.” he pressed a chaste kiss underneath your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “These hands of mine will roam all over, but they will gladly trail up your legs, ____.
“And God, when my hands stop at your sopping cunt, I’ll make it cry with my fingers.” He drummed his fingers on your back. “One.” Tap. “Two.” Tap. “Three of them.” Tap. “Perhaps you’d like more.”
You whined into his shoulder, feet stumbling as you clung onto him tighter. “M-more,” you pleaded quietly, so careful to keep dancing, move along to the music.
“Of course you would,” he only cooed in your ear, and you were scared you would collapse over his words. “Luckily for you, I wouldn’t be finished with you either.”
Your hand, clasped in his his, squeezed at his words. “Chris, please—”
“Yes, just like that,” the man mused, whirling you on the dance floor. “Just like that, you’ll beg me to send you over the edge, but I won’t let you be satisfied so easily.”
On God and all his subjects, if he did not cease his filth you were going to come onto the floor by his mere words. You could tell Chris noticed, almost reading your mind as the ghost of a smirk widened. “Already afraid, love?”
Love.
Dear, fucking God.
“You see, ____,” he muttered, leading you to the final round of the song, the steps of the dance going faster. “I won’t let you be satiated with just my fingers.”
And as he broke his hold on you, twirling you with his tattooed hand, he pulled you to him, one last time, crushing you against his granite chest.
His eyes bore into yours when the last string of the violin wailed around the hall. All you could see was pure, unadulterated desire.
“I will have you writhing with my cock.”
Your eyes never left Chris’ as the music finally came to a close, gaze blurring at the dark promise. Applause scattered around the ballroom, yet your hands stayed upon his arm, the other enveloped in his.
You caught the words once more under his thumb. NON DUCOR DUCO.
Indeed you do.
“Chris,” you breathed out, waiting for him to let you go. He did no such thing.
Feeling a few suspicious eyes on you, your feet backed away from the man, hands escaping the feeling he emitted underneath your touch.
A whine threatened to escape you when you saw his desire had not dampened. His hands shook, only slightly, and your stomach erupted into a million butterflies, journeying lower and lower.
You wanted him. You wanted him so badly you feared you would faint on the dance floor.
Excusing yourself, you hastened your footsteps, sending a few smiles to passerbys as you picked up a flute of champagne, hurrying down long hallways, catching a few couples leaning towards each other. When you found a grand wooden cabinet beside another door, no doubt a guest room, you slumped next to it, breathing loud and ragged, too affected by a certain man’s eyes and the hidden intentions underneath. You drank the entire champagne in one gulp, propping the flute on a servant’s tray as he rushed by.
“____!”
Gasping, you turned to the source of the voice. The voice which filled you with such unexplainable hunger you had to clench your thighs as it drew nearer.
Footsteps thudded against the carpet, and you squirmed at the sight of Chris Bang, storming towards you with a ferocity which had your knees near buckling.
“Where,” he began, voice an octave lower as he stood not a foot from you, smacking his hands against the wall, caging you with his presence. “Were you trying to lead me?”
“Somewhere where they cannot see us,” you responded, excitement clear in your voice. The ballroom chatter was still within your range, so technically, anyone could wonder down these halls, look over the cabinet and catch you both.
The throbbing inside you didn’t particularly care.
“And what do you want me to do,____,” he murmured, and his voice was glazed with pure lust, “Which the world cannot see?”
“I…” slight shame tried to course through your body but the overflowing desire was too strong. Not when your tongue was not afraid to voice what was in your heart the moment you first saw him. “I want you to do all those things you said. I want you to ruin me.”
And perhaps that was all he needed, when Christopher Bang pressed his lips against yours and answered your prayers.
He was instantly rewarded with your surprised whine, drowned out by the movement of his mouth as his hands left the wall, holding onto your face. His thumbs caressed your cheeks as he led the fiery kiss, opening your mouth to let the little noises escape.
“Chris,” you tried to rasp out, but his lips refused once more as he tilted your head, gaining full access and truly discovering the sheer pleasure oozing from the swell of your lips. God, he had gone through every experience which gave him a sense of thrill, but the kiss he shared with you brought him a new, foreign high — as if he tried the drugs he had seen on the streets for the first time, and becoming addicted on the first dose.
You broke the kiss, gasping for air as the two of you shared a carnal gaze, chests rising at an unsteady rhythm. Chris was ruthless, only sparing you for a few seconds before pouncing back in on your mouth, this time tongue playing along, asking to be let inside and slide along the inner workings. You would have been a fool to refuse him.
The moment you opened your lips for him his tongue slithered inside, sliding it along the roof of your mouth, while his hands left your face and instead gripped onto your waist, driving you further against the wall, snuffing out any distance which dared come between you and him.
A slightly moan bubbled within your throat when he began to roughen your lips, capturing your tongue before closing the seam of your mouth within his own, repeating the action until you didn’t know whether you were sane or absolutely fucking crazy.
You were sure straight after when one of his hands began sliding down. Down. He hurriedly broke the kiss, letting out an angry groan at the never ending skirts which met with his fingers. “Fuck this dress,” he cursed as he descended a little, peppering kisses upon the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck, trailing until he found the hem of your skirts.
Bunching them up with his one hand, he lifted the fabric, baring your legs to the dimmed chandelier light from the main hall. His hand trailed right up to your core, a single layer hiding it from Chris’ fingers. The poor, soaked fabric could not ever compete, when the criminal, with a single finger as he scattered kisses upon your face, hooked under the lacey underwear, sliding it down your thighs. So much desperation lurked he did not even bother to slide it down to your ankles, a chuckle rasping out of him as his fingers skimmed your upper thighs to find them dripping with the suppressed arousal.
“My poor, poor, darling,” he whispered in a menacing tone, the other hand caressing your face, “Couldn’t contain yourself for me?”
“Ch-chan,” you heard yourself say, because at this point your soul was not present, probably lurking in seventh heaven where this man was taking you.
Hearing his name on your slurred mouth only had him plunging the first finger inside you.
You let out an obscenely loud moan, which was immediately followed by hushing. “Don’t make a sound,” he demanded, smiling slyly at your whimpering, “Or else I stop. Understand?”
You could not nod fast enough, and he huffed out a laugh before sliding the second finger in, rubbing against your slit, drawing circles upon your throbbing skin, testing the rather sticky waters of you and your fucked out state.
Satisfied, he delved the two fingers in deeper, pulsating against your walls until they hit a certain spot which had you crying out in pleasure. Chris’ heavy lidded warning flashed in his eyes.
You nearly cried when he began to slide his fingers out over your moaning, your hand immediately stopping him from pulling out further. “Ch-Chan,” you pleaded, pleaded like the whores you heard on the docks, but you didn’t care, did not give a single fuck when those fingers needed to be inside you again. “Chan, please, I’m sorry—”
“One more fuck up, ____, and these—” his fingers plunged back into you once more, hitching you upwards with the sheer force, “—will be back out.”
Nodding hastily, you left your hand on his wrist. Chris continued to work so deliciously inside you that it took every ounce of strength left in you not to bring the manor down with your moaning. The whimpering could not be contained, but the criminal let that slide, finding great contentment every time you begged for more.
He curled his slender fingers, acquainting himself with that same bloody spot which had you seeing stars. Your hands gripped onto his neck for stability, nails digging into his shirt. How you wanted it off, along with all the damned layers he adorned.
The way he played with your sweet spot had you feeling heavy, a pleasured ball of pain forming at your lower back. You knew you were being led to an edge, an edge you could not, did not want to escape, and when you pulled away from Chris, looking into his eyes, he instantly understood.
“Oh my, love,” he simpered, his free hand thumbing your cheek. “Does someone want to get fucked against the wall? When I’m not even finished with them yet?”
Tears lined your eyes, cunt throbbing almost painfully around his fingers. “Chan, I’m going to—ah!” you cut off, closing your eyes as you barely held on to your last grips of sanity. “Chan.”
Your weakened, fucked out demeanour had the most dangerous man in London fearing for his own senses. He wished nothing more than you screaming his name for the whole city to hear, and with you, looking at him like that…
Oh, he was definitely going to drive you over the edge.
Christopher Bang nearly carried out his promise when a shrill call interrupted you two.
“CHRIS! ____!”
“WHERE ARE YOU—?”
Your lust-glazed stare cracked as you blinked. “Chan,” you said his name, but the man let out an enraged roar. You felt the hollow emptiness when those golden fingers were pulled out of you, sticky residue coating his skin. The footsteps grew closer, the volume of the shouting increasing.
Chris brought out a white handkerchief, cleaning your mess on his fingers rather aggressively. “I’m going to fucking kill them,” he guttered out, making your legs tremble. To your utmost misery you felt the orgasm, so close before, fading from existence, and you made a silent vow to break Jisung and Changbin’s legs the moment all of this was over.
Speaking of the Devil, the two hastened, opening all doors and closing them till the two stumbled upon the both of you, infuriated and worryingly turned on.
Changbin looked at the deflated expression on both of yours faces. “Chris? ____?” His eyes narrowed, trying to work out the reasons for the slight electric atmosphere he suddenly entered in. “Are you both...alright?”
“Perfectly,” the man answered in a ragged hiss, sliding on his gloves again, smoothing over his raven locks. “Now why the fuck are you both here?”
The two boys did not understand their leader’s anger. Choosing to let the snipe slide, Jisung said, “We’ve caught Carter.”
That seemed to send you and Chris back in reality. Well, not really, when your core still throbbed, the pleasure fading with each passing second.
“Where is he?” Chris flattened out his coat. “Where are the documents?”
Changbin brought out a small file from inside his waistcoat, holding it out for the former. “Right here.”
Chris took the file, skimming through the contents. His previously angered expression relaxed, just a fraction, and he held onto it as he set his powerful gaze on you all.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
The four of you managed to slip away easily, you trying your hardest to fix yourself after the whole fiasco in the hallway. Your heart was still running a mile per minute, refusing to calm as your mind relived the events. The original carriage which you all arrived in was now accompanied with another one, with a dark figure hunched over from the window’s view.
“We threw the giant fucker in another carriage,” Changbin said, laughing as he recalled the takedown with Jisung. “Man could not believe he was failing!”
Chris ignored his story, turning to you all as he stood before Carter’s carriage. “You three, take the free one,” he ordered, his eyes rooted on you. “I will journey home with him.”
“But Chris,” you began, taking a step towards him, “Let me come with you.”
You caught a glimpse of the desire which swirled in his eyes, not long ago, and perhaps that was why he held your arm in his now gloved hand.
“Go,” he only said. “I have a few things to say to him alone.”
After letting you go, nodding at the boys behind you, Chris Bang stepped inside the first carriage, slamming the door shut. The metal wheels screeched as the whole thing began to move, accelerating away.
You watched the carriage fade from view, Jisung and Changbin stepping beside you.
“What happened, ____?” the former asked, the other trying to comfort you with his gaze.
Silence was their only answer, as you turned on your heel, climbing inside your designated ride and watched the stars twinkle from the window.
The two members of the gang really tried their best.
As you all journeyed home without your leader, the pair told their tale of how they took down Carter and his men, Jisung adding exaggerated gasps as Changbin demonstrated each kill he thrust upon his victims. You offered them a few laughs, giving them your attention, but really your mind was somewhere else, specifically a midnight-tainted criminal who nearly brought you your undoing.
You were insane. Insane as you thought of him, insane as you remembered how wonderfully he had you writhing over him, just by his fingers. The mindless pondering alone had your cunt pulsating, and you deserved an award for how unaffected you acted with your friends.
Soon, the carriage slowed to a stop, and you perked up, not realising you had already arrived home.
You waited for the boys to exit before you stepped out of the carriage, the only light on the docks emitting from lamps and the night sky, reflected on the surface of the river. The first carriage was already there when your feet met the concrete floor, and when you turned to the man who reigned in your mind he had his signature expression, an aloof distaste as he walked over to his gang.
“Jisung, Changbin,” he called, and the boys responded. “Lock the carriage door,” he ordered, jerking his chin towards his transport. “We will bring him out in the morning.”
“Chris, should we not throw him in the cellar?” Changbin glared at Carter’s direction. “Bastard might escape.”
He only slid his hands in his pockets, you catching the dried blood on his gloves. “Oh, don’t worry about that,” he said, striking a step towards the building. “He’s not going to disturb us tonight. I can promise you that.”
Jisung cursed low along with you, only watching the man walk back to the bedrooms. Bidding goodnight to your friends, you followed Chris’ trail, opening the door and stepping inside the hallway.
You saw him before his bedroom door, bringing out a rusted key. His eyes slid to you as your feet brought you to your entrance. You looked back, waiting as Chris unlocked his room and began to enter.
He turned back, something dark and twisted still lurking in his eyes.
You waited, so patiently at the words you wished to hear, of him finally ruining you.
Instead, you received something else entirely.
“Goodnight, ____.”
And closed the door behind him.
Your heart dropped.
Fell to the floor, and shattered under the criminal’s bloodied boots.
The light of the hallway flickered as you stood rooted to the doorway, eyes staring at Chris’ door as if looking at it hard enough would get him to change his mind.
What did you know. The man is not led by exterior forces. Only by his own will.
When you gathered up the strength to the slam the door shut, you slumped against the wood, hating yourself for the tears which threatened to break the lines of your eyes. This was pathetic — utterly disgusting that you were about to cry over his decision.
But you could not help it. You were so enraptured by him. Hell, you were ready to throw yourself in the fires of damnation for him, as he whispered filth all the while rutting against you. Why had that suddenly changed?
“Argh!” You screamed, stomping over to the lamp, light now long extinguished. You relit it’s spark, illuminating the room once more, and set it on the stool before recklessly plucking out the pearls in your hair, a few tears daring to trail down your cheeks.
Fuck him. Fuck him for making you so rattled. Fuck him for having that effect on you.
You looked into your mirror and cursing yourself for the disheveled appearance. Again, the consequences for letting yourself fall for him.
“To hell with you Bang Chan,” you cursed.
You were about to untie your dress when your bedroom door was nearly ripped off its hinges.
Flinching, you grabbed the dagger on your dresser, raised to cut down whoever stupid enough to barge in on an assassin at midnight.
You were met with Christopher Bang.
And the disorder he brought with him.
Chaos reigned in his figure; his tousled locks, his star-struck expression, his rolled-up sleeves and his pandemonic eyes, all working together and against each other to create the man you had never seen in your life.
Good God. What had happened to him?
“Chan?” You got out, dagger now brought down. He said not a single word in response as he slammed the door shut, hard enough for the entirety of London to hear.
Instead, he imprisoned you with his stare, almost giving you his chaos. The chaos you had always shared with him since the moment he picked you off the streets.
No, he said not one word — only took the steps needed to march towards you. You could only watch with widening eyes when he grabbed your face in his rugged hands and collided his lips against yours.
You did not even hesitate to comply, hands grabbing onto his shirt, pulling him as close as you possibly could, so afraid that he would disappear from your grip if you dared let go. With the way he moved his mouth along yours, however, already opening up the familiar workings, you had a feeling he was not going to abandon you now.
When he broke away, breathing already erratic, his hands slid down to your neck, thumbs caressing the length of your throat. “I couldn’t,” he started, and he was sprinkling kisses all over your face. “I couldn’t leave.”
“I was scared, Chan,” you confessed, fisting the material harder. “I thought you truly did.”
His eyes focused on you. Within the turmoil, there was a promise. “Never,” he whispered, leaning in. “Never again.”
And suddenly his lips were on you, and the desperation was so rooted he nearly stole the very breath from your lungs. The sheer intensity, the longing implied broke your heart to the point you attached yourself to him, wrapping your arms around him and refusing to ever let him go.
The rather soft kiss began to heat up, as Chris broke the seam of your lips, swirling your tongue in his, already receiving incoherent praise from deep down your throat, making the man smile against his lips as he continued.
His hands slid further down, right to the small of your back, where he began to untie all the little bows he created for you at the dawn of the evening, the little touches of fire singeing you still. It was fascinating how effortlessly he loosened all the laces, fingers sliding through the patterns until one by one they fluttered down, until the dark red dress slackened around your chest.
A small gasp escaped you as Chris, while creating a trail of kisses down your jaw, right down to your neck, grabs the dress from your sides, hitching it down until it falls to the floor. Leaving you practically naked save for the scraps covering your dangerously soiled underwear.
Chris paused from his ravishing, taking a much too long look at your skin, glowing from the lamp light, and before he could stare any longer you brought your arms to your chest, suddenly becoming a little too embarassed to let him see you at your most vulnerable.
The supposedly unfeeling criminal, however, nearly broke into a smile at your flustered nature, and grabbed onto your wrists, opening the lock to your breasts, peaked by his actions, and the thought of what was to come.
The soiled underwear was about to drip at this point.
“You’re exquisite,” was all he said, making you almost burst into tears at the praise. You pressed a long, heart shattering kiss upon his mouth, and he responded perfectly, hands sliding to your naked waist, each drum of his fingers like a tug towards a dangerous edge.
Things began to take a turn, open mouthed kisses being plastered on the skin of your throat as the man pushed you back, further and further until the back of your knees hit the bed, stopping you in his tracks. His grip on your waist directed downwards, planting you on the mattress as his mouth descended to your collarbone, down and down until he licked your peaked nipple in a way that had you moaning obscenely loud. His husky chuckle resonated along your skin, still not pausing his trail until he hit the end of the dip of your cunt, barricaded by the fabric.
The moment he looked up at you, that alone made you nearly undo yourself. By the increasing volume of your breathing, Chris seemed to realise so too.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he got out, watching you whimper at each touch caressing your hips. “Already about to come when I haven’t even done anything?”
“Ch-Chan,” you pleaded, wishing for those damned fingers of his to plunge inside of you. The son of a bitch was taking his time, making you wait knowing it pained you to stay like this. “Chan—”
His name on your tongue had him gritting his teeth, hands on each of your side grabbing onto your lace, and sliding your underwear down, all the way till it fell free from your legs and threw it across the room, forgotten when Chris parted his mouth at the moistened treasure between your legs.
Those roughened hands steeled their grip on your thighs, pulling you closer till you sat right on the edge of the bed, cunt mere inches from his face. You could not even comprehend the insanity of this situation, that the hidden fantasies you dreamed of shamelessly were morphing into reality right before your eyes.
“So, so pretty,” he murmured, blowing a little air on your slick folds, earning himself a sucked in breath from his truly. “So pretty and wet, and all because of me.”
You let out a ragged breath, words of filth sounding so foreign on his tongue. It was not like he didn’t talk like the sailors living near you on the docks, but these dirty words and dirtier intentions, now all directed at you, made you feel so flustered, in a wondrous way you could not possibly describe. All you wanted was for him to keep singing this filth till you blacked out.
Chris, with the force of his hands, spread your thighs a little wider, and without warning broke his tongue from the seam of his lips, planting it upon your slit and moving it slowly over the surface.
That alone made you cry out in ecstasy.
But that was only a test, a taking on of foreign surroundings before truly welcoming himself, and by God, did he welcome himself in as more than a guest, when that tongue slid deeper and performed strokes which had you seeing all the stars in the universe.
What was first slow teasing then became a starved hunt, tongue relishing in the sweet arousal you emitted, lapping it up brazenly as if he had been wanting to do this for a long, long time. Your blubbering grew louder with every lick, fisting the sheets behind you with such ferocity you were sure they’d tear.
And if that wasn’t painstakingly enough, the man spread your legs a little wider, his tattooed hand, two fingers out, sliding straight inside you, making you mewl at the way they tightened they walls they journeyed in. Curling, just like they did earlier in the evening, they took their time finding the certain little spot which had you bringing the house down with your cries.
“Ch-Chan, please, please, I’m going to—AH!” You rasped out, when the said-criminal found the sweet little undoing of yours and stroked your fingers along the sensitive spot, making that bundle of pleasure resonating in your back appear once more, like a low throbbing begging to be released.
His tongue had not given you any breaks, still working ruthlessly along your clit and you cried for him to give you that sweet release, to just let you come but he had not let you be satisfied this easily. No, he wanted you writhing underneath him, wanted the final ruination to be from underneath his trousers, angered as it outlined against his leather.
You craned your head back, screaming out his name because you knew all else had abandoned you. “Chan!” Looking down, his mouth very much occupied with your cunt. Your orgasm was reaching, was on the very edge, and if he kept working on you like this he was on his way to taste the consequences of his actions.
Something about that image made you want it as a reality with a worryingly strong intensity.
“Chan, I’m going to—” you were about to warn but were interrupted by a squeeze of your thigh, done by yours truly as if he knew. And as if he knew, the two fingers began pumping much faster, harmonising along with his tongue, and the two actions at once, fucking you with that rapidity was so pleasurable that, with the first earth-shattering cry of the night, you were driven over the edge, releasing your orgasm straight into the criminal’s face.
You felt the work of his fingers slow down, along with his tongue, that with one, final lick, he retreated from your cunt, fingers still inside you as they comforted your aching core with slow, soothing strokes.
When he looked up at you, though, with your residue mostly upon his mouth, scattered on his cheeks, and basically a bit of everywhere, that sight alone nearly caused you to come all over again.
Perhaps that was his intentions.
Because when he licked his lips clean of your mess, ever so slowly, as if enjoying your orgasm like a man starved, you instantly saw in his eyes that this night was not over yet.
“Already so good, so wonderful,” he mused, slipping his fingers out, both hands now resting on your thighs. “Coming so quick even though I had been saving for the last.”
You knew exactly what he meant, but still had the nerve to ask, “The last?”
He raised a groomed brow, and that gesture was so breathtaking, more so when he raised himself slightly, so he knelt eye-level to you. “Don’t act oblivious, love,” he mused, leaving your thighs to your disappointment, but quickly diminishing when his fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt, slowly popping upon, each patch of skin being revealed like a show of your own. “We both know this isn’t how it’s going to end.”
Shivers crawled down your spine, but you only watched as the man finished undoing his shirt, peeling it off of him and throwing it amongst the other clothing. You nearly let spit trail down your chin at the sheer finery of his muscle alone, sharpened at his arms, his chest all the way down to his v-line, which dipped dangerously low. With no small amount of pride, you also noticed the large, angry outline of Chris’ cock, begging to be set free.
The man caught you blatantly staring, and a shit-eating grin twisted his glistening lips. “You may do the honours if you’re so keen.”
Blushing, you mumbled a shut up, but was captured by Chris’ lips, tasting your own arousal on his tongue, as his grip on you led you further into the bed, while you fumbled on the buttons of his trousers, popping them open one by one when you broke from the kiss, your turn to shower him with more along the veiny expanse of his neck as you pulled his trousers down, tossing them among the pile.
When you saw the slight-stained underwear of his, you felt the familiar throbbing again, so affected by how you affected him. Noticing your apparent pride, he pressed his lips upon you in a searing kiss, peeling off any last scrap of clothing and forgetting that too among the other clothing.
And by God, when Chris Bang’s cock escaped from his underthings your mouth actually watered at the sheer size it bore. Husky laughter resonated in your ears, and you flushed the colour of blood when he caught you staring much too audaciously than he would have imagined.
“Already fantasising about my cock?” He slurred, the tattooed hand curling stray hairs from your sweat-slick, flushed face. The way you scrunched your nose, clearly flustered by his comment, melted his stone cold heart, as he caressed your cheeks with his fingers.
You did not answer him, only whispering his name along his skin, waiting and waiting for the man to drive that force home inside you. “Chan,” you murmured, and the name you kept saying like a religious chant, like it was the only word that mattered, was what brought him to grip his cock, directing it against your entrance, the still slick folds which grew more wet every time the tip caressed the sensitive skin. “Chan, please—”
“Please what?” He demanded, demanded because he needed to hear you precisely want you wanted. The words he practically prayed would be on your tongue the moment he kissed you for the first time this evening.
Obliging him was like second nature. “Please fuck me, Chan,” you breathed out, holding onto his shoulders, knowing you were going to need a hell of a good grip for what was about to arrive. “Please, just ruin me with your cock.”
A malicious smile curled upon his lips. “Good, good girl,” he purred, and began the descend which you dreamed of the very first night you realised you were ridiculously attracted to him.
His cock slid inside you, and with a soul-wrenching whine, was perfectly snug as the journey went on, and on, and on, until you were certain you could not take anymore, despite the man retaining a few inches. He was slow at first, making sure you were not going to be pained by this action. Although your nails dug into the granite muscle of his shoulders, you only egged him on. “M-more,” you only said, and he readily obliged, until you felt him all around you in your body, as if he had filled you up to the brim.
“Ready?” He asked, and when you nodded, he rested his forehead against yours as gently, he began to pull out.
You nearly whined at the lack of inches filling you up, but then he brought his cock back in, creating this hypnotic rhythm which was so unimaginably ethereal you felt yourself float amongst the clouds. Each thrust out and thrust in was a drive in and out of reality, with Chris Bang holding the tether of your survival, pulling you in and out of his mercy.
Gradually, he began to fasten, panting as his drove into you with more force, and when the momentum hardened, you felt your soul leave your body. His cock created wonders for you, having you scream in unimaginable pleasure, and driving your nails into his back was not enough, your lewd moaning not enough given to his sheer skill, his pure simplicity in bringing his cock back and front which had you seeing stars. Hell, Christopher Bang showed you undiscovered universes, leading you across galaxies and unfamiliar cosmos, each thrust in a different vision, and when he lifted your leg a little higher for more access, you feared that you would wake the whole docks with your groaning, for this criminal, this heartless criminal provided you with the whole universe with the simple strokes of his cock inside you, and all you could offer him were screams.
Even your reactions were pure Beethoven to his ears, relishing in your fucked out state as he gave you all he asked, driving you to the edge of the world. You, finally, clashed your lips against his, offering him sloppy, open mouthed kisses all over his face and neck, and that alone had him greeting his teeth, knowing his own release was near. You were going to die if he was not given the same pleasure as you, so you reacted with each of his touches, each of his thrusts, him practically pistoning you upon this bed which very much would break.
“Ch...Chan…” you grated out, eyes blurring, vision completely fucked, “I’m...I-I—”
“I—fuck,” he too got out, for your last love mark painted onto to the curve of his neck nearly had him ruined. “I’m going to come, too, love—”
“Chan!” You whined, because the throbbing was there, and was so close that if the man did not send that last thrust home then it was all for nothing, everything that had ever happened will all be for nothing.
But he listened. The man who did not listen to anyone or anything listened, and pounded his cock so hard in approval that it had you crying out to the cosmos as you finally let go, orgasm spilling out from whatever space the residue could find between his cock. Your own release had Chris groaning louder than he had even done this entire time, praising you unconditionally, until the filth was cut off by a low curse, with his own release barrelling into you, some joining your spilled mess upon the sheets.
Chris let out a shuddering breath, slowly crossing his movement inside you. Carefully, when you stopped digging your nails into his shoulders, he pulled out, reaching for the blanket untouched and bringing it over you and him before collapsing beside you. Both of you breathed as if you had held your oxygen for a thousand years, chests rising unevenly.
A silence hung over you two, heavy yet not uncomfortable, lingering in your bedroom. Chris sat up a little, using your pillows behind him as comfort as he raked his hair back, sweat-slick all over, much like you. You held the blanket right up to your chest, hair in disarray, much like your heart. The poor organ threatened to collapse at the events.
Sneakily, you caught a glance at the greatest criminal in London, staring off at the distance, mouth set in a concentrated line. He looked dashing even in his post-sex state, the lines of his chest still stark against his sweat. You truly had never seen a man this beautiful in your life.
He turned his head to you, catching your staring, and when you tried to look away he captured his chin with his fingers, making you meet his fierce stare. Although dark, the lust had satiated, and instead held passive affection. Well, you hoped it did.
“Why do you still look away?” He demanded in a low, tired voice.
You tried to slide your gaze to the lamp, but was too bewitched by his midnight eyes. “Because you’re beautiful, Chan,” you answered, feeling the blood rush to your face.
He cocked his head, damp curls sticking to his face. “You say that as if you are not,” he countered.
You did not say anything then. Even so, he received your answer.
“____,” he said in a low tone. The grip on your chin loosened, and the hand went to your cheeks, cupping your face. “You are truly flawless. Don’t make me have to make you believe that.”
A small smile hinted at your lips. “And what if I still don’t?”
His answering smirk sent butterflies tumbling once again. After a moment, as if hesitating, he then snaked his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. You were surprised when his one hand fully encircled you, while the other hand, the tattooed hand, rested upon your head, stroking your hair with his slender fingers. You did not pull away, was never going to, only wrapping your arm across his chest.
It was the first time you had ever seen Christopher Bang hug someone in his life.
“Chan?” You asked.
“Hmm?”
“Why did you get that tattoo?”
He paused for a minute, never ceasing his fingers intertwined in your locks. After a small sigh, which you felt beneath your own fingertips, he said, “It is simply something I live by.
“Non ducor duco. No one will lead me, love. Only myself.”
You pondered over the roots of this phrase, of the significance for the man you lay with.
“Good,” you said after a while. “I wouldn’t want anyone leading you either.”
With that, you gave into the soothing movement of Chris’ fingers, working lazily in your hair. And while you dozed off to sleep, the criminal mastermind of the biggest city in the world pondered some more, specifically over his motto.
NON DUCOR DUCO. A phrase which had stayed true for so long no one could ever change it.
But after tonight, as you slowly dozed off under Chris’ caresses, he wondered whether there isn’t one person he wouldn’t mind being led by.
And as he stole a soft glance at the specific person beside him, he knew.
He knew that although he will be led by no man, there is one woman who he would, to his own shock, happily be led for.
So, with that new, and slightly terrifying revelation, Christopher Bang went to sleep, knowing that someone had fucked with him and gotten away.
And he was willingly going to let it happen.
#stray kids imagines#stray kids smut#bang chan smut#bang chan imagines#stray kids dark hours#bang chan#stray kids#stray kids oneshot#kpop imagines#kpop smut#skz imagines#skz smut#chris bang#christopher bang#skz dark hours
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
The War Has Begun
Masterlist
Mind of a Monster | Next
Katsuki had been quiet as a mouse since the meeting, and even as he handled the investigation and information he was being relayed by those part of the mission, he looked more in thought than exploding with anger at his current situation. Usually, he would be patrolling the streets, taking down any petty thug or idiotic villain that dared to cause a scene in his area, but he found himself patrolling for as long as many other heroes he knew that preferred to take this profession slow. It didn’t even matter to him that he was seeing icy-hot on the news more than him now when he sat in the living room with his son.
His son.
Those words felt so right now despite the fact that children were at the bottom of his list of things to deal with. Seeing that blonde boy with the same blown out ashy blonde hair as his, sharing the same eyes with that damn sparkle of the girl he was forever intertwined with, he felt nothing but pure satisfaction and peace. The same satisfaction and peace he believed he could only have by being the number one hero, which was the reason why he spent so much overtime as a hero to try and surpass Deku, and to never be lumped into the same category as Todoroki. When he thought of being number one now, he couldn’t find that same passion for it.
“You should feel honored that the future number one hero lets you talk to him.” Katsuki boasted, grinning like a maniac while you sat across from him at the mall food court.
“Being number one is a sham, you know. My dad said that all those heroes at the top do it for money and fame, with the only exception being All Might. I prefer heroes like Gang Orca, he’s super cool and he actually cares about the people he’s saving.” You mentioned casually, picking up another fry from your tray of food and chewing on it.
Katsuki simmered down enough to take in what you said, and felt the slight shade you threw at his goal. “What’s that supposed to mean?! You think I’m a bad hero or something?!” He shouted, and you shrugged while ignoring the stares that you two were getting.
“That isn’t my dream to pick at, but it’s not hard to see that Endeavor doesn’t save lives because he cares about people. . You said the reason you want to be a hero was to make a lot of money and show off that you were better than everyone else. Do you really think you’re an All Might and not an Endeavor?”
He stood up with his hair casting a shadow over his eyes, and before you could even say another word, he walked away from you. You stared after him in shock at such a negative reaction from the truth, but you knew that he wouldn’t take that well. It was the truth that he’d been facing since starting UA that he wasn’t like his classmates who all shared his goal, but you knew he didn’t understand what you truly meant. The heaviness of your words weighed Katsuki down as he walked away from, his insecurities that he’d hide from you shining through in that moment. You were right in that moment; Katsuki didn’t understand what you meant, but he can’t pretend like it didn’t hurt.
“Real heroes don’t care about being number one as long as they’re helping someone. . what a dumbass.” Katsuki mumbled the moral of your words as they hit him like a train wreck.
‘She’s always been that damn wise, huh?’ He thought as he turned away from watching the television with his son to you.
You sat not too far away from them on his recliner, your legs crossed and eyes intently focused on your phone as you typed away. All morning you had been like that when you weren’t talking or doing something with Ryu. The two of you had not moved forward since his apology, but there were no longer small acts of aggression towards him when you spoke, and in your constant teasing of his short temper, there was no longer any comments about the past riddled in your humor. Though that didn’t ease his mind about the unspoken rivalry that had sprung from your reappearance.
He refused to lose you again, and damn sure not to shitty hair.
Without warning, Katsuki stood up and stalked towards you. His sudden movements took your attention away from your emails with your assistant and you looked up at him as he towered over you, and you’d never admit that the butterflies in your stomach weren’t from fear. In a simple tank top and shorts standing above you was a man that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, but you’d much rather burn the image in the back of your mind and keep your hormones to yourself than embarrass yourself.
“We’re going out.” He said as if stating a fact, and in his mind, it very much was.
“. . . Who the fuck is we? Ryu, you didn’t hear me say that.” You blinked at Katsuki as if he had grown three heads, before looking to Ryu who’s attention had moved to the both of you when he heard the foul word fall from your mouth.
“When I burn stuff I’m bad, but you can say bad words,” you heard your five year old huff.
“I mean you and I,” Katsuki explained with slight irritation at you. “Pinky’s been bugging me anyway, so she can-“
You cut him off and turned your phone off, “there’s no need to call her. My assistant will watch him and I’ll babysit you.”
“Pain in my ass,” Katsuki mumbled just loud enough for you to hear as you stood up, and you smiled in return.
Being stuck in Katsuki’s house most of the time made you appreciate the outdoors more, and maybe a few weeks ago you’d complain about being in the park without Ryu, but it felt like a stilled moment in time now where you could pretend there was a sense of normalcy. You could pretend like you and Katsuki were just frenemies with complicated emotions, and he could take a breath from that world of constant ridicule and popularity contests. It was never spoken between you two, but it was clear that it wasn’t just you that was causing him to be stressed and consistently explosive; the hero community was wearing him down for a while now.
It only took finding out he had a child, rivaling the girl he lost, and having them both be targeted by her father, for him to realize being number one wasn’t that important.
“So, why did you want to take me to the park . without the child that loves the park?” You said with mild amusement, you two walking side by side in your hoodies and sweats to be at least slightly concealed in public.
Truthfully, in his moment of haste to get a leg up on his own friend, he hadn’t fully thought out an idea to get close to you. It wasn’t until he made it out of the apartment, after barely casting a glance at your assistant, Nanami, that you allowed into his home, that he realized this may not have been the smartest course of action. And he’d never admit that to you.
“You looked like you needed some time away, and I’m tired of looking at you working when you’re not even there.” He said gruffly, avoiding your face and doing his best to fight the small blush he could feel heat up his cheeks.
You chuckled lowly, “some things never change. . Speaking of that, how are things with Midoriya? I was surprised to hear that you didn’t full on murder him when he was announced the number one hero.” You said, giving him a sideways glance to gauge his reaction.
That was quite a blow to his ego. It took him a while to recover from losing to the boy he had looked down on his entire childhood, and then underestimated in his later years until he was forced to realize that Deku was his equal. What he lacked, Deku excelled, and there was nothing he could do about that other than to work harder. It took a long time for Katsuki to truly accept that there was something special about that nerd, and the world needed him.
“He’ll always be a loser to me. . but he’s a decent hero. I’d be a dumbass like the rest of you to kick his ass about it.” Katsuki said and looked you in the eyes, showing that he meant every word. “You know, I can’t tell if you hate me or care too damn much sometimes.”
You hummed with a smile creeping up on your face, “It’s a healthy balance of both. . I’m not ready
to overthink us right now when I can’t be completely open with you, or anyone else for that matter.” The smile that grew had withered near the end of your sentence, and you felt a flash of guilt in you for dragging him into a battle that had little to do with him. You dragged an entire army of heroes into this, and you couldn’t even guarantee they’d have their jobs. . without using them like pawns.
“I’m not letting you go through this alone. I don’t care how much you try to push me away, your shitty ass is stuck with me.” He said without missing a beat.
For a moment you smiled again, and Katsuki accepted the uncontrollable beating of his heart around you. Your bodies had inches closer during your walk, and though your hand never touched nor did your arms link, you felt close to another. It was possible that it was a toxic attachment neither of you should be so content within, neither of you wasted another breath to question it.
You both arrived back at the apartment a mere few hours later. Walking in public together in broad daylight wasn’t the safest idea at this time even in hoodies, so it wasn’t long before you both agreed to turn back. The sun was still shining outside when Katsuki opened the door, yet the eerie silence that welcomed him made a chill run down his spine and every alarm in his body went off at once.
His body reacted before his mind when he stalked towards the living room, then to the kitchen, and lastly to Ryu’s bedroom to find absolutely no one. There were things of Ryu’s missing — some clothes and toys that he took with him wherever he could. There were signs that a child had once been here still scattered around the house, but there wasn’t any sign that Nanami had ever been here.
Rage, fear, and sadness were running rampant in Bakugou’s mind as he frantically searched Ryu’s room for anything that would tell him where they went and that this was some misunderstanding. He was cursing himself for not taking a second look at that girl, and he cursed himself for leaving his only son with her when he knew nothing about her. Had he stopped and checked her out he might have been able to tell something was off — he might have been able to stop his son from going missing and be a good father like he should have.
His frantic thoughts stopped suddenly, along with his movements and time. He remembered who else was here and wasn’t making a sound while he tore the room apart. Who hadn’t made a single sound since leaving the park.
“Y/N.”
The way your name fell from his lips felt like venom being injected straight into your veins, but your face remained neural even as his manic eyes made contact with yours. You didn’t speak in fear that any response would cause him to spur completely out of control, and you knew that whatever response you gave him wouldn’t be good enough. This wasn’t a battle you’d win.
“Where. . Is he?” Katsuki asked slowly through gritted teeth.
“I think you need to-“ you attempted to reach out to him and de escalate this enough to explain, but he cut you off with more fury than a scorned man.
“Where is my son?!”
Before any answer could be given the front door was slammed opened with a deafening smack, sending you whirling around at the sudden action. Thundering footsteps came down the hall and before you could even let the anxiety consume you, men dressed in riot gear appeared in the doorway of the room with guns pointed in your direction. Your hands flew up automatically, and they wasted no time swarming you.
“Y/N L/N, you’re under arrest for conspiracy and premeditated murder.”
A/N: A missing mother, a missing son, and an arrest. What a wholesome story. Anyways, the angst never stops and the tables keep turning, LETS GET CRAZY!
Taglist (Closed) <3 : @fandomgirllover @cloudsgathering @that-bipolar-renegade-romantic @jazzylove @that-chick212 @bonbonthedragon @misssugarless @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @bakugous-bakahoe @pinkykookie17 @animexholic @arielting @samkysnks @simpforeveryone @damnirina @deneuves @tsumuuumiyaaaa @vintage-teddyxo @regalmigraine @samvmgh @iamagalaxy @officialtrashbusiness @xwackk @videogameboiwhowins @marajillana @ellasdilemma @plutoneu @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @thestarsanctuary @dewdropwifu @star-light-imagines @kritiiiii @bakugosbottombitch @the2ndl @candybabey @simply-not-the-same @sam-i-am-1025 @mes-bisous @eternallyvenus @peppytine @chaelysian @definitely-yours @oikawarc @suneaterofthebig3 @m0na-l0ver @nkb0048 @losertsukki @notyourfavorlte @caramelsquares @hikaru-mikazuki
#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#bnha#bakugo x reader#x reader#katsuki bakugo x y/n#bnha fanfiction#bnha x reader#bnha angst#anime x reader#bnha kirishima#kirishima x reader#kiri
190 notes
·
View notes
Text
Be My Dad
Sanders Sides: Janus, Logan A Vague AU Writing Prompt: @wildhorsewolf asked: Guess I'm a parent now with Janus being the dad and Logan being the kid Blurb: Janus has no interest in being a parental figure to a kid, but trying to convince the universe of that is another thing entirely. Fic Type: Familial Soulmate!AU Overall Fic Warnings: Mentions of Scars Taglist in Reblog.
To most souls, a food court was a necessary evil. Loud. Lots of people. But plenty of food options all together in one place. Perfect for those who liked a variety of choices or those who had picky eaters in tow.
It was a place to meet up with friends, family, or business associates. A place where one could sit back and observe society at work. To see people at their best...and most definitely at their worst.
There was something soothing about the chaos that Janus enjoyed...as a spectator. He could never imagine being right in the middle of it.
Not unless he was doing what he was doing right now. Trying to hide in plain sight in the middle of a crowd.
After all. He was thirty now. Single. Childless.
Obviously a menace to society in a universe that seemed obsessed with everyone being part of a ‘family.’
A Universe that had decreed that all adults who remained childless by the age of thirty, would then be subjected to being bombarded with children in need of a proper parent figure to bond with in their lives.
He exhaled, absently brushing against the raised scar on his cheek, barely looking up as a child burst out wailing nearby.
He’d checked earlier. That particular wailer hadn’t had the golden sparks. It meant he was safe.
For now.
He ran a hand through his hair, flipping another page in his notebook before he continued scrawling on the page. Maybe Virgil had actually been onto something when he said he was vanishing into the wilderness of Europe for the rest of his life.
Sure, Janus had laughed six months ago when his best friend had turned thirty and begun complaining about all the kids coming out of the woodwork to ask him to be their Dad.
It’d seemed impossible at the time. To have children want to come up to Mr. Shadows Incarnate and expect Virgil to put them to bed and tell a bedtime story.
Now though, he understood why Vee had become more reluctant to leave his house as the year had worn on. Because the mini spawns really had come out of nowhere once his own thirtieth birthday hit.
And it was awful.
Wherever he went, it was inevitable that some child would approach him, shimmering golden sparks floating around them indicating that they were looking for a Parent Bond.
It was also as inevitable that he would scare them away just as quickly.
After all, his halfmoon scar and creepy yellow eyes had caused plenty of kids to scream and run with a single look years before his thirtieth birthday.
No, at least Virgil had a bit of that shy emo charm that made him more approachable, even if the merest appearance of anyone under four feet had his best friend going pale as a corpse and ducking out before the kid could take more than two steps towards him.
Privately he was certain Virgil would find a kid perfect for him before the year was out, despite his best friend’s attempt to avoid the inevitable.
He knew Virge would make a good dad. Compassionate. Protective. His best friend had a dozen other traits that would benefit him when the right child flared with him.
Unlike Janus.
Who could make a grown man cry with less than four words and a glower.
No. He couldn’t imagine having any child coming to him in the middle of the night expecting comfort.
He knew he was intimidating.
He knew he could be scary.
It wouldn’t be fair to subject a child to that on a daily basis.
Honestly, it felt like a slap to the face that no matter how much he achieved, how many degrees he got, or businesses he owned, or careers he pursued, or money he made…
The universe felt that one couldn’t be complete unless said person also had a screaming, slobbering, dirty child in tow.
Janus ran a hand through his hair, again brushing the crescent scar on his cheek as he looked up long enough to watch a cluster of mothers with their dozen and a half children in strollers rush by, seeking salvation at the nearest set of golden arches with at least four of the kids already screaming for their happy meal toy.
Even if he did make a connection with any kid brave enough to approach him...Janus could never imagine trying to coerce a screaming brat into eating their chicken nuggets all by himself. Could never stand to walk around with food, slobber or worse, vomit stains on his best suits like a badge of honor. Could never be patient enough to listen to the long and rambling and pointless stories he’d heard multiple parents suffer through while observing them here in the food court.
No. There was no way Janus would allow the universe a say in how he ran these next five years of his life.
He had goals.
Life plans.
And he didn’t need some interfering Being with an obviously unhealthy parent complex ruining that.
The scrapping of a chair being pulled back broke through the gentle hum the noise the chaos of the food court had receded to, causing Janus to look up from his paper in time to see a boy, wearing a faded black long sleeved shirt with matching glasses and thankfully older than the screaming toddler throwing french fries six tables over, plop down in the seat across from him.
A child. With golden sparks shimmering in the air around him.
Oh goodie.
Janus barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. And here he’d thought that the fact that he’d caused a pair of twin girls, a baby, three boys, six preteens, and four other children under the age of five to scream in terror and/or burst into tears before the lunch rush had even started would have been enough for the universe to call it quits for the day on attempting a Parent Bond.
“I have a prospersition for you.” The boy said, making eye contact. Janus blinked, pen pausing mid stroke as he raised an eyebrow to the child. Prosper...prosper? Oh. “A prop-osition?” He asked, careful to pronounce the word correctly.
The boy nodded once, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Prop-osition” he repeated, saying it properly this time. “Will you listen to it? Please?”
Oh, now there was a please? The kid hadn’t even said hello. Janus exhaled, running a hand through his hair, again fingering the raised scar on his cheek, eyes darting about without much hope for any sign of a frantic adult looking for their wayward offspring as he sat back, tapping his pen on the table. “I’m busy.”
The boy’s eyes flashed. “No you’re not.”
Janus scoffed, gesturing to his papers. “I assure you that I a--”
“Are doing what you do every Friday. You’re not busy. You just sit here. All day. Reading. Writing.”
Observant. Janus frowned, again glancing around for a guardian figure. He didn’t think children thought much beyond eating, sleeping, and playing with their peers. “That is considered being busy by most people, I don’t have time to tal--”
The boy shifted to his knees, the golden sparks dancing around him as he carefully placed eight quarters on the table before pushing the pile over to him. “For your time.” He said, looking up to meet Jansus’s eyes once more.
Clever. Not quite the amount he usually took for a consultation, but he doubted a child could come up with that much cash. Still. It was the first time one of these golden sparked spawns of the devil decided to pay him instead of screaming bloody murder.
Janus exhaled, laying down his pen, sitting up as he clasped his fingers together, resting his chin on them. “I’m listening.” Though he doubted anything good would come from this proposition. He could already predict the direction this would go.
The boy relaxed, though he stayed half kneeling on his chair. “I need you,” his mouth twisted slightly, grey eyes glittering. “to pretend to be my Father.”
Father? Ha. Called it. “No.”
Golden sparks flared as the boy lifted his chin. “You didn’t even ask ‘Why.’”
He smirked, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach as he pushed the coins back. “I don’t need to.” It was obvious why the kid wanted to play pretend. After all, the sparks surrounding him were only visible to those like Janus. Single. Between the age of thirty and thirty-five. Childless. If the kid needed a fake dad...well this wasn’t his first rodeo with the concept. “You either need protection from some bullies, which--” He gestured to himself. “You think I look scary enough to intimidate them.” Though not scary enough to keep the kid from bugging him in the first place. “Or else you have lied to your friends about who your Dad is or what he does and so--”
“You’re wrong.”
Janus cut off, tilting his head. “Am I?” He was certain he wasn’t.
“You are.” The boy kept eye contact, grey blue eyes hard as stone.
It would be an intimidating gaze once he grew older, Janus was sure. “Enlighten me.”
The boy pushed the coins back across the table. “The Aquarium is having a Father/Son day today. I want to go.”
Not what he meant by enlighten, but he’d humor the kid. “So?”
The boy rolled his eyes, shifting to his knees so he could better rest his arms on the table. “I can’t exactly partisiis--partissee--par--”
“Participate?”
He nodded. “I can’t exactly participate if I go by myself, dummy.”
Dummy? Who just helped the kid pronounce ‘participate?’
Janus shoved the quarters back to the boy before picking up his pen, tapping it against the table. He could see the kid’s problem though. It made sense why the aquarium wouldn’t want to let hordes of little demon spawn run around tapping on the glass, licking the floors, and breaking things unsupervised. “I’m not spending fifty dollars to play your Dad, kid, just so you can look at some fish.”
A pet store would work just as well and wouldn’t cost a dime. If he was willing to go along with this.
Which he wasn’t.
He didn’t even like fish. Not since that stupid childhood fishing accident that had given him the lovely scar on his face in the first place.
No way would he willingly go along with some brat to a place filled to the brim with the creatures.
Despite how brilliant of a scheme it was. One Janus would have used himself though under different circumstances.
Though he supposed, if he felt like admitting it, which he didn’t, but he still---it….hurt in a way, that the kid, even having the sparks, just wanted to use him to get in to see some boring fish instead of trying out a real Trial with him to see if they had any sort of parental bond.
It was a stupid feeling.
He should be used to being used.
The boy adjusted his frames, barely blinking as he shoved the quarters back across the table, staring Janus down. “Adults get in for only ten dollars today. Kids get in free. If.” He emphasized the word. “Their Father brings them.” He shifted in his seat, pulling out a twenty and slid it across the table. “For your ticket.” He said simply, eyes flashing. “I’m only asking for your time. I don’t want to go on a Trial with you. I don’t need or want a Dad. I just need an adult with the time on his hands to pretend to be one and let me esplore the place for two measlely hours.”
Double ouch. At least some kids attempted to do an actual Trial Run with him to see if their sparks would Flare before being so blunt in telling him he wouldn’t be their Dad.
Janus frowned, already shaking his head. “Kid, I don’t--”
The boy pulled out another twenty, placing it on the table. “Two hours.” He said simply.
“You don’t even know me--” Sure, he knew the boy knew he was in the Trial stage of life since the stupid floating sparks thing, even if he couldn’t see his own, went both ways. But that didn’t mean that he should just shove--
The boy placed a third twenty on the table.
Janus exhaled, running a hand through his hair, again fingering his scar as he glared at the child. “You’re seriously bribing me? Where did you even get that much cash?” Hopefully it wasn’t stolen, but he’d applaud the boy for being so prolific in his thievery.
“Not important.” The boy stated, pulling out a fourth twenty without breaking eye contact.
Why was he being so persistent?! Any other child would have run away by now.
“Why me?” He demanded, leaning forward, sneering in a way he knew made his eyes look even more creepy. “Why not bribe some other--”
The boy hesitated, a fifth twenty already in his fingers as his steely gazed wavered. “If I tell you why, will you go with me to the Aquarium?”
That was hardly a fair exchange. The answer could be super simple and he’d be stuck with the kid for two hours. “I’m going to stick with my ‘I’m scary theory,’” Janus said instead, gesturing to his face. That was the usual reason kids gave in most circumstances.
The boy frowned, lifting his chin. “I can be scary enough on my own without your help.” He said shoving the sleeve of his shirt up, revealing an angry red corded scar that wrapped around his arm from wrist to shoulder. “We match, kinda. Your scar looks similar. Makes it easier to pretend that you’re my Dad. That we were in the same accident.” He pushed the pile of money towards him. “And if anyone suspects you aren’t my birth father, then the sparks will show them that we’re on a Trial and that our scars mean we’re meant to be.”
Meant to be.
It took a lot of effort to not touch the crescent mark on his cheek. To ignore the fluttering in his chest at those words.
They’re just pretty little lies.
Sure, there were ongoing theories that families all shared a similar trait that marked them. Whether that was having a mole on the same part of their stomach, sharing a taste in mustard, having an allergy to hay, hair having the same cowlick, or having similar looking scars--Janus kept his hands firmly on the table as he pulled his eyes back up to meet the kids.
It was hearsay though. Nothing had ever been proven. Not when the sparks flaring between parent and child was a far more accurate indicator that they were meant to be a family.
No, he highly doubted anyone would Flare with him during this five year tortrue period. Not even this kid despite the sparks dancing between them.
Janus took a steadying breath. It was fine. He didn’t need a family. Not even a pretend one for two hours. He was better off alone now that Virgil had harred off to who knew where. “How long do I have to wait before you run out of twenties and give up?” He said, keeping his voice cool. “Because I’m not taking your bribe, kid, regardless of the amount. You’d be better off hiring a nanny or something.”
Though he was curious just how much the boy thought it would take to convince him to go along with this farce.
The kid made a face. “I don’t want to be coddled the entire time.” He snapped, the fifth twenty vanishing as he shoved his sleeve down. “All anyone ever does is treat me like I’m breakable since--” he gestured to his arm, the scars once more hidden. “And I’m sick of it. You look like you’d happily let me fall off a bridge if I wasn’t careful and I just...I just--” He shook his head. “I need to not be cared about for a bit.”
Let him fall off a bridge? Ouch. Janus focused on relaxing his clenched hands, one finger at a time. “So you have a death wish? I’m not gonna be complacent to--”
The boy growled, slamming his hands on the table, steel grey eyes hardening even as they shimmered with unshed tears. “No. I just want to look at the fish.” He hissed. “I want to esplore. Learn. SEE. Without having a grown-up hovering over me like I’m freaking china. All you would have to do is stay near enough to keep any other metaling adults away. That’s all I want. For two hours. To be treated like a normal kid.” His hand clenched as he took a breath, bottom lip trembling. “I thought you of all people would understand that.” He whispered, eyes flickering to the scar and back.
It took a lot of effort to not touch his face. To maintain eye contact.
Sure.
He understood.
Janus had wasted years chasing that particular dream throughout high school and well into his first couple of years at college.
It had all been for nothing.
People judged the book by the cover. Few ever took the time to look deeper.
And it sucked that Janus was being forced to reckon with the fact that if he didn’t go with this kid and pretend to be his Dad, he’d be like every other adult unwilling to give the boy a chance to be ‘normal.’
…Great. Just. Great.
He’d just been guilted into spending two hours looking at the fish.
Janus broke eye contact, cursing under his breath as he shoved his papers into his book bag and stood, grabbing his jacket and hat off the chair.
Maybe he should follow Virgil’s lead and disappear into the wilderness for the next four and a half years if the kids were going to start pulling this type of act on him.
“You got a name, kid?” He asked, fishing out a single twenty from the stack before shoving the pile back at the boy. Enough for the ticket. That’s it.
The boy caught his breath, eyes going wide. “You mean--”
How could eyes hard as steel one second go so soft like freshly fallen ash the next?
You know what. He didn’t want to know. If the kid knew how to do puppy dog eyes, then he knew how. That was that, but after today Janus would not be falling for them again.
“Name.” He repeated, impatiently gesturing for the boy to follow him as he tugged his hat down over his eyes. “Else I’ll make one up and I guarantee you will not like it.”
The boy was by his side in a flash, golden sparks swirling. “Logan.” He said, adjusting his glasses with a small smile. “My name is Logan.”
#Be My Dad#stillebesat#Sanders Sides#Janus#Logan#Deceit#Logic#Soulmate!AU#Familial Soulmates#Dad!Janus#Child!Logan#A Vague AU prompts
505 notes
·
View notes
Text
when you resist me, I cease to exist
pairing: kung lao/gn! reader word count: 1.2k rating: G
kung lao throughout this entire thing: if an attractive person pins me to a tree and tries to assassinate me; do not prosecute! that is on me! they caught me slipping!
Kung Lao swears he can hear birds exchanging whispers at night, he tells Liu Kang so who only responds by chastising his sleep ethic. He knows they are there, chirping and tweeting about a brand new day to come and what his mentor might have in store for them. They know secrets he can not translate, only whistles that lure them to his windowsill.
The night sounds like blue jays mocking his form and red robins always near just to remind him of his shortcomings. He is not the chosen one. He is Kung Lao, the one with the long braid and razor-rimmed hat who spends his nights lonely. And even the animals seem to know that as they chitter and chatter right outside the bruised large oak that sits only a few feet away.
Maybe the night does not know of secrets but gossip, pointless rumors that are stretched across the canvas of his man. Twisting and turning to fit any narrative he needs. He is blessed with a chance, a gift so few are afforded yet his mind is impatient. Trying to rush to the end of a story that's barely been told.
He can never be sure if it's even just begun. Sighing as he sees the dawn approaching, Raiden will predictably ask them to arrive just before a light blue haze has settled above the Earth. He was asks for things ( greedy and reckless, he sometimes thinks but that's rude ).
So instead, he gets out of bed, finding his feet and lightly gasping as they touch the floor. The world is still dark but he can stumble through it without disturbance. Shuffling sounding throughout the halls as his bare feet wander through.
Pinks stain the sky as the horizon clears and he sighs as the slight. A slight shiver running down his back as he craves for the warm sun to brush over his skin. No one appears to be around for miles ( only the whisper of birds ) and he is content with that. No one to bother hi or to put him in his place, simply a body that travels with a name he rarely says.
He stops short of the tree outside his window, a thick trunk that's able to hide him away from the small world he's disposed to. The chippering hasn't grown louder, in fact, it's been secluded into it's own sphere. One he is only able to witness once he's allowed to rest. There's meaning there—at least, he assumes there is—but he is not granted time to mull over the prospect.
Slammed into the bark, groaning as his hair is tugged on and his neck is left vulnerable. He should be frustrated, easily calling his friend or mentor but that would be too easy. There's already a blade tracing patterns against his flesh; ready for the slightest sign of struggle.
The tree shakes in resistance to the sudden movement but all it does is let a few birds loose from their hold on those insufferable calloused branches. The bark already digs into his skin but he’s far more focused on surviving than possible injuries.
The masked figure hums, inspecting him as their weapon taps against his neck. "I thought you would be far more .... resilient."
The taunt nearly makes him laugh but he's reminded one quick slash would rid him of his larynx amongst other things. Confrontation makes him nervously chuckle and assault people with dim-witted jokes. He is not suited to deal with an assassination attempt.
"In the life of monk, one is always in tune with his surroundings."
"Is that so? Are you so in tune that you just allowed me to pin you and have a knife against your throat?" the weapon is propped against his chin, the dull part gliding across it. There's a playful tone to their words, almost as if this is entertainment.
Entertainment, he can deal with that at most and a shaky smirk crosses his features. He's sure that anybody can see the strain on his expression but there's still enough leeway to speak.
"Maybe I was merely distracted by your beauty."
"You haven’t even seen the rest of my face. A cheesy line only a monk could make." They sigh and release their hold on him. Kung Lao still resting against the trunk as the figure begins to pace. "Looks like you aren't my mark."
They start to mumble, brows furrowing and he can assume their lips are puckered in thought. He should speak, but on the other hand, they are also an assassin. One part of him is grateful he was not murdered, another part of him feels like he is insane that any side of him feels gratitude at all.
Still, he stands up from the tree ( more birds crying out as they are forced from their home ) and speaks.
"Any chance I could help your search? This hat holds knowledge beyond your years," he forgot he was even wearing the stupid thing, the braid that trails behind him is more noticeable than anything.
A huff leaves their mouth and they turn to face him. "Alright, I'll bite. A man around your age, loose hair tied by some stupid thing I can't remember and looks like he could punch a hole through me."
He knows very well who that is, an person he's seen a thousand times over that their image is seared right onto one of the lobes of his brain. It'd be downright insulting to not recognize when one is describing Liu Kang. "Oh, you mean my wonderful, darling best friend?"
"Fuck, I knew this was more than it's worth.” They let out a frustrated groan, sheathing their blade within a leather pouch ( he worries when there's a longing to see the weapon again and maybe wishing he was still pressed against that tree ). He shouldn't be thinking this way, he was close to becoming another decapitated corpse.
“Well, when you see him, tell him he has a bounty. His head costs a pretty penny.” He doesn't understand why he just won't turn them in but this interaction intrigues him.
Being mistaken as the handsome Chosen One of Earthrealm? It's ridiculous, a scenario that would only play out in some fantasy.
“It’ll boost his ego, I wouldn’t bother.”
“Oh, as if you’re the humblest savant I’ve encountered.”
“Maybe I’ve earned it,”
“Hope you prove it to me next time—” and he says his name during the silence ( the one he rarely uses ) and blinks as they repeat it themselves. “Kung Lao, couldn’t have expected a prettier name than that.”
Their shallow flattery feels like heaven, blessed to have even witness this occasion. There's a wrench at his chest as he watches them turn, readily leaving the temple as if they never truly existed.
“And yours?” He can't help but ask.
But he knows there's a smirk toying at their mouth, even if it is covered, and shakes their head. “Ah, there’s still a bounty I’m after. Money is your only real competition.”
They slink behind an eroded pillar ( he does not bother checking for them ) and he hopes this lives on through the whisper of birds.
#lol two idiots flirting with each other#what if i was hired to kill your best friend but almost murdered u and we left off with unresolved tension?#the first half of this shit is a basically a character study but i don't want to hear no one complaining#i am bringing kung lao content bc the mortal kombat movie did him dirty#mortal kombat x reader#kung lao x reader#mortal kombat#mortal kombat preferences#mortal kombat 2021#mortal kombat 11#julianscribbles#gender nuetral reader
70 notes
·
View notes