#this is me trying x daylight was also performed!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

meiideryz · 7 months ago

Text

sounds of strings.

pairing: liu yangyang x reader

length: 2.68k

synopsis: yangyang is a man who would completely back off from people his friends like, but not this one.

tags: alternative universe, rock band au, wayv ensemble, unrequited love, rockstar!yangyang ft. hendery, one-sided attraction, implied pining, house partying, yangyang is head over heels for you consented, drunk kissing, slight heavy make-out session, alcohol consumption, mentions of vulgar/foul words.

note: the plot idea came from my sibling who intended to make this as a xhy social media au to be posted on another platform (if you are interested in reading it, please anticipate later on in twitter!), so i was granted permission to write their favorite part of the plot to see how it would turn out, and here it is!

yangyang couldn't understand why every person he knows is so drawn to him but not you.

he was that rockstar who played his maroon matted electric guitar in big bars to perform on stage. he was that rockstar that everyone would talk about in broad daylight. he loved the way people would get excited seeing him at his gigs and get asked to take pictures with him.

but the fact that out of all people, you don't show interest in him in the slightest bit upsets him.

one of his friends was hosting a party later tonight, and he was asked to perform at their place. yangyang made sure to dress nicely in case you were coming to see him perform.

when he and his band arrived, you were already there chilling in the backyard; drinking, talking, having fun with your friends. wanting to approach you, he took a step forward with a gentle smile on his face that was completely wiped off as soon as his other band member snaked his arm around your waist. the man holding you closer to an intimate position which led you to place your palms on his chest.

“hey, beautiful.”

right, he exactly understood why you never had interest in him.

he had no choice but to watch hendery spew out sweet words to you. he stared at your reddened cheeks, letting out a nervous breathy laugh while the man before you held you still with a hand on your hip.

“we’re about to perform, cheer for me?” the way hendery held eye contact with you was long and arousing. yangyang couldn’t handle watching anymore, tearing his eyes away from the scene, leaving the band member alone.

as he walked towards the set where they were gonna perform, the sound of short breaths coming from his back until a hand grabbed on his shoulders to stop him.

“why'd you leave me there?” hendery asked, there was laughter in his tone, which made yangyang roll his eyes. he took the maroon electric guitar in his grasp before turning on the amplifier beside him to adjust the sounds.

“jealous, perhaps?” a question that kept him still in his spot.

yangyang knew he was trying to insinuate things, but he also knew that he wasn't wrong for that. although his friend had his eyes for you, yangyang wanted you, too- despite how impossible it was considering the fact that you were at the brink of being wrapped around hendery’s finger.

“i don't have time for that,” prompted him, his tone sounded harsh and rude, but the latter never questioned. “you know, what i want you to do right now is to get the others. we'll be performing in 10 minutes.” completely deviating from the topic, a sigh left the latter's lips before leaving the guitarist alone in the area to set up the instruments.

when yangyang performed on stage, he scanned the crowd in search of you because seeing you always left him in excitement, thrill, and motivation. he wanted to impress you so much that during their performance, he turned the volume knob up to blast the sounds of his electric guitar, purposely overpowering the other instruments being showcased by his band mates. they would give him stares, but he didn’t care.

what matters to yangyang is that everyone would get on their feet and jump to the beat, and there he could see you, just watching the band perform.

his heart raced, finally getting your attention as you stared at him. it saddened him by how impassive you were, and to fix that, he flashed you a smile before going back to strum his fingers on the strings of the instrument. his charismatic image sparked the performance, causing the people to remarkably cheer for the band that gave him a content look on his face. yangyang grinned when you looked away, as he wondered if your cheeks heated up under the flashing color fairy lights shining and blinking above.

by the time they were finished, the band got off stage to have their time to rest too. hendery left to get the drinks, ten followed to get the food, and kun thanked the host for letting them perform at their house party.

the rockstar sat in one of the tables in the corner while the next performing band played a soothing jazz genre in the background. a helmet resting beside his clothed thigh while he thumbed over the motor gloves he was wearing in his hands. he inspected the area, finally looking in your direction at the other side of the yard as he watched you talking to your friends. he was so fixated on you, and wondered why you didn't feel the same.

moments passed after casually having a conversation with kun, his eyes found their way back to the direction where you previously were, only to find no one.

he looked back at the latter, “hey uhm, i'm going back inside, really need to use the restroom right now.”

getting the chance to excuse himself, he headed inside the house through the crowd. the pulsating of his heart throbbed from the loud beats coming from the speaker that is somewhere around the room that didn't matter to him.

walking through the crowds was such a hassle to get to the other room, his voice low and soft as he gently pushed through people. it took him a while to do so, the room was illuminated by led lights so it was hard for him to find the exit area to the next room with such minimal source of light.

once he arrived at the corridor, the roaring sounds of screaming filled the room next to him. of course, hendery's voice can't go unnoticed. yangyang exhaled, walking past the door, not feeling the need to come inside and deal with the latter's drunken state. he then continued to find where the restroom is. it could possibly be upstairs, but he might end up witnessing something that he shouldn't need or might regret seeing.

avoiding the 2nd floor, he continued searching for an available restroom. when he finally found one, he wasted no second getting inside, instantly reminding himself that he got here with a motorbike, and he couldn't risk getting into an accident from drinking too much. yangyang faced the dirty mirror that was filled with smudges of fingerprints and lipsticks. not that he minded it, it was a party after all, he expected these to happen in a house party.

opening the faucet, he removed the leather gloves from each hand, placing it aside before gathering a normal amount of water in his palms, splashing it to his face to try and sober himself up. he repeated the procedure several more times before wiping his face with a clean towel he found in the drawers.

as he was about to turn off the faucet, the door beside him swung open. startling the rockstar, he reacted quickly, backing away from the door with a wide-eyed expression. then the look on his face softened, finding you holding onto the doorknob.

he watched as your legs couldn't hold you up anymore, with one step your body launching forward to the ground. “fuck!” yangyang instinctively held his arms out to catch you, preventing you from falling on the floor.

“i got you, i got you.” he repeated, assuring you in an embrace where you nuzzled yourself in his chest, letting out a laugh as your hands were placed around his shoulders. he heard you slur, telling him how good he was at playing the guitar, following with how good he was with his fingers. yangyang felt like his mind was going blank, hearing some very vulgar words you were whispering to him that he wouldn't even dare to think about.

you really were that drunk.

yangyang's cheeks heated up, shifting in his position to hold you properly in his arms. “god, what have you been drinking this whole time?”

“red juice,” you beamed in between hiccups and sniffles. because of the proximity, yangyang couldn't help but feel his heart race at how close you were to him. you were really pretty up close and he wished he could just stare at you for how long he wanted— but you needed help right now and gaping at you wasn’t the best option in this situation.

“hey, let’s get you sober up, okay?” his arms moved down to your thighs, holding it firmly before lifting you up to place you on the restroom counter. your hands never parted away from his neck, instead, you interlock your hands together as you keep clinging onto him, making it harder for yangyang to actually help you.

“look, i’m trying to help you here,” he sighed, his hands going up to clasp around your wrists, trying to pull it down. “your friends might also be looking for you.”

“i don’t care.” you responded, following with a hiccup leaving your lips. “i’m here with you, and that’s all that matters.”

even if yangyang wanted to believe that, you were drunk. he knew what you were like towards him if you weren’t wasted at all with all that drinking. he did wish that there was more to what you stated, as some people said that one’s true feelings unveil when they’re under the influence.

“y-you’re drunk, you don't mean that.” he tried to pull your arms away from him for the second time, only for you to pull him closer.

yangyang's breath hitched, finding himself entangled in an embrace with his face inches to yours, the invitation of your lips tempting him to close the gap.

he composed himself, his arms caging in between your body as his palms rested on the counter to balance himself. as much as the desire was kicking in, he wouldn't do such a thing to you especially of how intoxicated you were, your vulnerability lay bare before him.

“come on, i need to help you and you need to help yourself. we’ve been here for god knows how long and people might start looking for—”

a pair of lips brushed against his. his completely blown pupils dilating at the action as the way you slid your tongue against his bottom lip melted him entirely, his soul leaving his body at that very moment.

yangyang was a nervous trainwreck at this point, not sure whether to push you away or to reciprocate. no matter how much he wanted you so bad, he wouldn’t want to be in conflict with someone who also liked you, especially hendery. he was a man who would completely back off from people his friends like, but not this one. the drummer had already expressed to the rest of the band that he liked you for too long, yet how he craved for your flavored chapstick smearing over his lips, your mouth driving him insane, and shared breaths between kisses was something he yearned for in every way.

he had fallen hook, line, and sinker.

fuck it, hendery won’t know.

it didn't take long before yangyang returned the kiss. he fluttered his eyes closed as he matched the pace of your lips while his hands traveling to grip the sides of your hips to hold you still. he wasn't so sure anymore if he was still sober, but one thing he is certain is how much he felt drunk from the make-out session.

the air around him turned hot, and somehow your hands were now on his hair, tugging it lightly, pulling him closer. his nails digging into the cloth covering your skin. how he wanted to get that thing away, but he eventually didn't as he just wanted to concentrate on your lips over his.

it was merely a perfect mold to his. both lips moved with such passion and hunger for each other as your tongue slipped into his mouth with ease, causing the rockstar to let out a breathy moan.

he felt his heart thumping against his ribs and your chest the more you tried to close the gap between you. the rhythm of both lips turned sloppy, messy, and fiery, craning his neck to deepen the kiss. yangyang knew that once he broke the kiss, he would never get to feel your lips on his again— yet his lungs were screaming at him, begging and seeking for air.

yangyang's chest heaved up and down, finally abandoning your lips to catch his own breath. his sweaty forehead covered in his bangs rested against yours, completely worn out and drained while his hot breath fanned over your mouth.

“you know, you and i are going to regret this when we wake up tomorrow.” he mumbled through exhales. you laughed in return, and it was such a pleasant sound for the rockstar.

an hour passed by and everyone soon left the party, including you. yangyang carried his things to the truck of kun’s car along with the other instruments and equipment. he gave a double pat on the shiny steel of the vehicle. “there you go, take care of roxanne for me.”

kun scrunched his nose up at the name, an eyebrow raised while looking at him. “roxanne?”

“my guitar.”

“...right.” kun's gaze went back to the front window of his car, the key that was inside the ignition key was pulled back out after he had started the engine. yangyang could see hendery and ten's sleeping silhouette in the backseat through the tinted windows, tired after all the performing, eating, and drinking.

“where were you a while ago? i was looking for you after i found out you've been gone for too long,” the former questioned, which made the latter feel a lump in his throat.

“sorry,” he apologized, “i went up to the balcony to use some stig.”

“oh, well...are you coming with us?” kun asked, hands gripped on the stirring wheel. yangyang refused, waving his hands at him and indicating the three to leave without the rockstar. “i came with my motorbike, i'd be fine alone.” signaling them to go, kun made no second thoughts before driving away from the party, leaving him alone with his motorcycle just around the corner.

he walked back into the backyard where he found his friend and other people cleaning up the area, picking up the used cups and plates on the grass. his hand grasped onto the helmet that he left a while ago during the party as he carefully placed it on his head, adjusting the helmet so that it wasn't too loose nor too tight to wear.

“i’ll get going, thank you!” he yelled out, calling his friend's attention, to which the latter smiled, acting out a salute gesture to acknowledge his presence and bid farewell.

yangyang set his foot out to leave the house, and there he saw his motorcycle at the side that awaited him. he made sure to look at the road before crossing, not wanting to run into some vehicles like he did last time.

the keys in his pants jingled as he took it out, inserting it into the ignition to start the engine of his motorbike. he ensured that his extra helmet was inside the storage under his seat before hopping on, and once he did, he left the area.

he crashed into his bed by the time he arrived at his apartment, and when he woke up this morning, his head throbbed from the massive hangover he had last night. he found himself tucked with the velvet covers of his mattress, his throat dry and itchy, and the oppressive force of his headache squeezing his head tightly.

his phone that was on the nightstand next to him was filled with notifications of messages from his friends. he was met with a video clip that was sent to him and some screenshots of people commenting under the video that was uploaded in a social media platform.

then his heart dropped, watching the video of you and hendery kissing each other at the party last night.

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lovelyhan · 1 year ago

Text

— daylight ⟢

when hoshi first opened his eyes, the singular impulse hard-wired into his circuitry is to dance. a performer in every sense of the word, he simply finds another stage to set foot on in the planet of salax after the escape. people never overstay their welcome here, but he unexpectedly meets you—a mechanic born and raised in a place where no one deigns to linger for too long.

★ FEATURING; soonyoung x reader

★ WORD COUNT; 9k words

★ TAGS; automaton!hoshi, mechanic!reader, a bunch of stray kids members make appearances bc HA!, mentions of sex work, mutual pining? angst, smut (MINORS DNI)

★ WARNINGS; implied dubious consent (with hoshi and a character that isn't the mc), mentions of terminal illnesses and surgeries

★ NOTES; fun fact! this collab was 9 months in the making and i am cramming this on the very last day of my extension :D very unprofessional of me, but here it is! p.s. little side note that the chan that's constantly mentioned in the fic is bang chan, not lee chan!

this is part of @idyllic-ghost's svt sci-fi collab!

★ SMUT TAGS; robot sex, unprotected sex, first time together, they're just so desperate for each other yk

★ PERMANENT TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @minnie-mouser22 - @homerunhansol - @mirtaspace - @ti--red - @zzucculent - @woozarts - @rubyreduji - @mozellerra - @lllucere - @cheolzip - @jjjzzzz - @lissiesykes - @dearjeonwonwoo - @meowmeowminnie - @colored-confetti - @partiallyinfluencial - @speaknowlwt - @flwrshwa - @lilylikesthat - @aurorahongg - @whippedforjihoon - @todorokiskitten - @immabecreepin - @98-0603 - @peachhiz - @dkswife

★ SOONYOUNG TAGLIST; @ak6ko - @nikkell - @yoonzinoooo

100 years ago it was thought that the Earth, as we know it, would disintegrate. That the sun would implode and leave everything in darkness. Miraculously, it didn’t. Due to some external force, human scientists still haven’t agreed upon what it exactly was, none of the planets in our former solar system were ever destroyed.

The Earth, along with the other planets, were pushed away from each other, and ended up in different parts of the universe. Earth just happened to come to a solar system with alien life. At first, we were cautious, and people were prepared to fight.

However, the aliens were welcoming of our planet. Those of us who didn’t die from ‘The Great Journey’ or from trying to fight the aliens, were welcomed into the new solar system.

Soon enough, we had integrated completely, and we received materials and assistance from our sister-planets in exchange for human labor. What humans knew of technology was very limited, but with the resources of the aliens we created artificial life forms. We named these robots Automatons, and they served as workers when humans couldn’t.

Eventually, there was no need for human labor at all. To pay back for the help the aliens gave us, we used Automatons. With the extensive development of these robots, we eventually managed to create artificial sentient life. These Automatons were human-like in looks and had human consciousness, but they could not bleed and were stronger than we ever could be.

At the present time, there are even different levels of Automatons. Level 3 robots are the workers, level 2 robots are the caretakers, and level 1 robots are the celebrities—

“That’s enough telly for one day, don’tcha think?”

A frown tugs at your lips when you hear the familiar voice of your next-door neighbor who also makes a living out of trading tech junk in exchange for money. Han Jisung is a bit of an oddball—even by your planet’s standards, and everyone knows how strange the dwellers of Salax could be. If he was on Earth, he would’ve been ostracized as a complete loon, but unfortunately the stack of television monitors right outside his shop is your only source of entertainment these days.

(Which might sound preposterous to some, since Salax is often dubbed as the planet of entertainment. Just not the kind you’re looking for.)

“Why are you even watching a documentary that’s nearly a decade old?” you huff, clutching a bag of tools you bought from the other side of town closer to your chest. “I thought you didn’t give a shit about Automaton celebrities—that Chan’s dancer trinity could outperform any machine?”

“Now, Giz, no need to be so stingy,” Jisung chuckles and your eye twitches at the condescending nickname. “You know that's not why I’m watching this old thing.”

As if on cue, the only working screen in the sea of television static before you flickers from a scene of breathtaking idol performances to a closeup on a familiar Automaton who’s been burning up the stage since he first opened his eyes.

“Hoshi looked so sparkly when he debuted,” Jisung comments as the documentary continues to play. “Actually, they all did. Makes me wonder why those idols thought it’d be a good idea to break out of their facilities. Weren’t they treated like royalty back on Earth? What’s he doing in a dump like this?”

“Jisung,” you sigh. “Why’d you ask me to come here again?”

“Oh. Right. I'll bring him into your lab, Giz.”

He calls you Giz because you’re known around these parts as someone who can fix any gadget and gizmo; every robot and Automaton that’s dropped into your care. It just so happens that, with the nature of his business, Jisung is the one who typically directs potential customers your way.

Which is what he’s doing right now.

“Didn’t he already come in here last week? And the week before that?” Your neighbor grumbles as he helps your mutual friend Minho heft a powered down Automaton on the table in your lab. “It was Hyunjin who brought him the first time. Then Felix. Now you?”

“He’s a bot, what’d you expect?” Minho huffs. “They break down every now and again.”

“You break down every now and again too, but you don’t visit the doctor every week, no?” Jisung quips. “Idol bots really have no business wanderin’ into the galaxy’s red light district when they can’t handle the heat.”

“Jisung, shut up,” you apprehend him sharply, all while getting to work on the Automaton lying on your work table. “I can’t fix anything when you’re running your mouth too close to my ear.”

Your neighbor simply chuckles before patting Minho on the back. “Oh, yeah. You’ve gotta be in your handywoman element and everything. Well, Minho and I are gonna pop open some cold ones from your fridge—”

“No.

“—from my fridge while you work on that dying star over there,” Jisung makes it a point to cast the same robot he’d just been watching a documentary of a pitiful glance. “Seriously though, won’t Chan-hyung just consider selling him to me? Bet this guy’s parts would make a great fortune in the black market.”

“And how are you going to explain that you managed to turn up Hoshi of 53V3NT33N’s body parts without getting arrested?” Minho barks before yanking Jisung by the ear to the entrance of your lab. “Sorry about him, Y/N. He must be a pain in the ass to have as a neighbor.”

"You're a pain in the ass for constantly getting me to fix this guy, too,” you mumble as you start to unbutton Hoshi’s shirt to access the panel concealing the circuitry panel underneath his chest. “I’m all for saving what can still be saved, but maybe Jisung is onto something. Why aren’t you guys just chopping up his parts if he breaks down this often?”

Jisung nods with a huff. “Can’t be good for business even if he used to be a famous idol, that’s for sure.”

The lab is silent apart from the whir of the machines mounted on your walls, and it’s this sullen atmosphere that makes Minho’s reply have all the more weight to it.

“You guys aren’t dancers. You wouldn’t be able to understand.”

The first time you met rogue idol Automaton Hoshi in his titanium-clad glory was during a rare night when Jisung coaxed you out of your lab to "have real fun for once". Your neighbor is easily one of the most overbearing people you know, so you simply tagged along for the sake of getting him to shut up more than anything else.

But when he droned on and on about this new recruit Minho managed to scour off the streets, you never expected that Jisung would be talking about a bot and not some fledgling dancer with little to his name.

Well, in retrospect, Hoshi is a dancer—a performer, even. Despite his group's intergalactic status as outlaws because of the simultaneous escape stunt they pulled several months ago, not a single soul in Salax wished to report his whereabouts to the concerned authorities.

Where the other bots from 53V3NT33N are, you haven't the slightest clue, but if your planet's natives have widely accepted Hoshi's presence even if he's been here for a month at most, who are you to dictate otherwise?

Passionate. That's the best word you can use to describe the way he dances. All the movements that his body makes are calculated, purposeful. Each roll of his hips, each snap of his limbs, every memorable expression that colors his face—the intensity of Hoshi's performance all bleeds into his passion for the art of dance.

In your many years of tending and tinkering with machines, this is probably the first time you wondered if a bot's creator infused part of his soul into the code. You know of a few Automatons that are being used as entertainers and even escorts for the lecherous visitors of Salax, yet none of them come as close to being human as Hoshi is in your book.

But on that same night, you managed to witness the polar end of the spectrum. The one where Hoshi's fiery passion crumbled into crippling anxiety.

Automaton malfunctions aren't an uncommon occurrence here. The reason why not many Level 1 bots ever set foot on Salax is because the planet's electromagnetic fields mess with their delicate circuitry and sometimes even tamper with their code.

These Automatons are celebrities—meaning their parts are made out of sleek material to allow ease of movement and rid them of the rigid and bulky framework of infernal bots. But because of the flimsy hardware coupled with the harsh environment, you're not surprised to see an Automaton as intricately crafted as Hoshi break down in the middle of a performance.

He's a mess. The practiced choreography was seemingly wiped out of his programming as he convulsed on-stage, sparks flitting from the seams of his joints. The bar’s manager, Chan, was quick to bark out orders to bring Hoshi off the platform and just let the other dancers cover the rest of the routine.

You thought the immediate recall of an obviously defected Automaton would mean he was done for. But then again, Salax is a place with little resources to burn. As long as a bot can still do its job, the owner will have it fixed time and time again until its artificial nervous system shuts down for good.

That’s how Hoshi ended up in your lab the first time.

There’s a childlike curiosity in his gaze when he wakes up after you check if all his wires are in place and if his code remains uncorrupted. It almost feels like seeing a baby open its eyes for the first time, but you know better than to associate human traits with something that’s anything but.

“Horanghae,” Hoshi says without any real context as he bares his fingers at you, while Hyunjin, the dancer who brought him here alongside Jisung, groans in contempt.

“That’s the first thing he said when Chan-hyung booted him up too,” he sighs. “Is it like some starting screen sound effect or something? What does that even mean?”

As things stand, you don’t know either. But seeing that Hoshi isn’t glitching anymore makes a wave of relief wash over you in a rather unexpected way. While it isn’t the first time you’ve had to fix a humanoid robot, you don’t work much on machines that grin at you so wide, their eyes disappear.

Then again, there’s always room for firsts.

“Why’d you choose to go here after you escaped?”

You chose to ask Hoshi the question that’s been weighing on your mind despite having little to no reassurance of the ingenuity of his answer. You’re aware that though Automatons—especially Level 1��s—are sentient, you have zero background on their psychological makeup, the thought process behind their decisions, everything but the baseline components of their hardware.

Hoshi hums for a moment, wincing when you accidentally nick one of the wires directly connected to the nerves on his thigh. “I dunno. I just wanted to dance.”

“Hm. And you thought you’d be able to do that here?”

He nods as if it was a practiced response. Maybe it is. “Yeah. My old mechanic told me Salax is a place where all sorts of dancers flock together. I kinda wanted to go with Wonwoo when we all escaped, but…I wanted to dance even more.”

Whoever that mechanic was, they must’ve left out the part where your home planet is quite literally a den for one’s deepest, darkest desires. Dancers at clubs are just merely scratching the tip of the iceberg. The depravity of Salax’s denizens and visitors alike goes even further than that, but you suppose it’s not the right time to disillusion such an innocent bot so early in his new career.

After all, Chan’s club might be like any other salacious establishment out there, but from what you know about him through Minho and Jisung, he isn’t the type to just throw a clueless Automaton into becoming a nightly escort. You’ll let Hoshi live out his dream to keep dancing on whatever stage he sets his eyes on—even if that means he’ll start frequenting your lab for regular maintenance checkups.

“Where’s Jisung?”

The question surprises you a little when Hoshi articulates it while you’re in the middle of tidying up your work table. Normally, he’d be out of the lab once you were done and whichever human dancer is chaperoning him for the day would pay for the services you rendered and they’d be on their merry way back to the main district.

It’s completely out of character for him to ask questions. You weren’t even aware that he knew Jisung’s name, which makes you wonder…

Does he know yours? You’ve never really introduced yourself to the machines you end up tinkering with on your work table.

Choosing not to dwell on it, you instead respond with, “Jisung is…at the hospital. He goes there every weekend.”

“Hospital,” Hoshi repeats the word as if it was something he’s only hearing about the first time. “My mechanic had to go to the hospital because she was sick one time. I didn’t see her for a while. Will Jisung be okay? Why is he in the hospital?”

You didn’t think sentient robots would have such a complex sense of self that they’re actually capable of empathy. It makes you stare at Hoshi, who’s staring back at you with a look asking for confirmation, and the unreadable expression on your face melts into soft laughter.

Your reaction, however, confuses the Automaton a little. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. It’s just amusing for me that you care that much about someone who’s constantly threatening to disassemble your parts and sell them in the intergalactic black market.”

“Well, if he needs them, I don’t mind.”

“If you let Jisung do that, you wouldn’t be able to dance anymore,” you point out before locking your toolbox, casting him a pointed look. “Will you really be alright with that? Not being able to do the thing that brought you here in the first place?”

Hoshi’s face scrunches up for a moment—as if he’s taking his time to actually think about his answer. Another speck of amusement prickles your chest. He has such human mannerisms that if you didn’t constantly see what’s underneath the clothes the bar provides him with, you never would’ve thought he was a bot.

“It would suck, but… Automatons were made to serve the humans around us, weren’t we?” he wonders out loud. “If my purpose is to get chopped up for parts, then I don’t really have any qualms with that.”

“Your purpose was to entertain millions of people across the galaxy as an idol group,” you deadpan. “But here you are in Salax, light years away from the rest of your members. You can cut the moral bullshit, Hoshi. We’re all selfish degenerates here anyway.”

For the first time, his expression twists into a frown. “I’m afraid I don’t understand…?”

“You don’t have to. It’s not that much of a big deal.” You shake your head and at the same time, you hear the sound of someone rapping their knuckles on the door to your lab. “Oh, Felix is already here. Good luck with tonight’s show.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

You can almost hear the pout in Hoshi’s voice, prompting you to cast him a sidelong glance. “Answer what?”

“Why is Jisung in the hospital?”

You let out your umpteenth sigh of the evening, opening the door to your lab to reveal a dressed-to-kill Felix that smiles and waves at the two of you.

“His older brother is sick and Jisung always goes to the hospital to take care of him on weekends,” you explain as simply as you could. “Does that finally sate your curiosity?”

It takes him a few moments to process the information he’d just been told, but Hoshi eventually breaks into that familiar, eye-crinkling grin—clearly satisfied with your answer.

“It did. Thank you, Giz.”

Well, that’s not quite your name, but you suppose it’ll do.

For Hoshi’s next checkup, you immediately sense that something’s amiss.

Typically, the Automaton waltzes into your lab and hefts himself on your work table before you can even get a chance to say hello to both him and his assigned chaperone. Today, it’s Minho but unlike last week’s visit, Jisung is here to lighten up the atmosphere in his usual Jisung fashion.

Though it’s not enough to conceal the obvious discombobulation your patient is currently experiencing.

“You two,” you call out, referring to the only other humans inside the lab. “Can you step out for a while? I’m gonna talk to Hoshi.”

Jisung, of course, is quick to initiate his rapid-fire questions. “What? Why would you need some alone time with a sexy bot, Giz? You’re not becoming one of those deranged mechanics who gets off with their Automatons, right?”

“Quit yapping and just let her do her job,” Minho scolds before dragging Jisung out of the lab by the wrist. But he doesn’t leave before yelling over his shoulder. “Just call us when you’re done!”

When Minho pulls the door shut and the automatic locks come into place, you turn to Hoshi with an inquisitive look.

“What happened?”

The question is met with a wince—as if you took out a cigarette and burned his silicone skin with the smoldering edge. Hoshi makes it a point to avoid your eyes, which only further confirms your theory that something is most definitely up.

“I…had my first client the other day.”

Ah.

While you haven’t personally dabbled in the services being offered by the red light district, you’ve been friends with Minho long enough to pick up on the basics. With how much attention Hoshi has been garnering for himself, it was only a matter of time before Chan would let him entertain their club’s regulars in a way that he was probably never taught as an idol.

After all, Level 1s are considered the purest of all the Automaton classes. You’ve always wondered what would happen if they were exposed to activities of the sexual kind, but from the uneasy look on Hoshi’s face, you’re afraid it might not have been a great first time.

“Do you…want to talk about it?”

It feels a little silly, playing therapist for a literal machine. But the longer you serve as Hoshi’s regular mechanic here on Salax, the more you realize that things would be less stressful if you treated him just like you would treat any other human being out there.

He’s an Automaton—a robot—but because of the groundbreaking discovery of their ability to become sentient several decades ago, you’re more than inclined to hear him out.

“The other dancers helped me prepare. Chan told me time and time again that I didn’t have to do it if I didn’t want to but…” He starts, voice coming out softer than you’re used to—more reserved. “I wanted to. I wanted to be of use to them. I knew that lots of our customers wished for me to become their escort, so I just repaid Chan’s kindness by doing my job.”

Your lips tug into a grimace. “You don’t look very pleased with the outcome though.”

Hoshi purses his lips and that alone is already an answer.

You don’t pester him any further than that. Instead, you quietly instruct him to take off his shirt and lie on the table like he always does. Hoshi complies surprisingly quickly—following your orders with clockwork precision. He’s in position merely ten seconds after you gave the word.

When you perform your regular examination beneath his chest plate, nothing seems out of turn. Part of you wants to check the circuitry inside his head just to make sure he’s doing alright up there. It’s been a while since Hoshi has been brought here because of a breakdown, so you haven’t bothered inspecting the wires beneath his artificial skull. You wonder if he even wants to—

“It felt good,” your patient tells you all of a sudden, nearly making you drop the tools you’re using to poke around inside his chest cavity. “I didn’t think it was possible for me to even feel that way, but I did.”

Composing yourself, you manage a small nod. “Okay. Did you enjoy it at least?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you want to do it again?”

“...With her? Not really.”

Hoshi falls silent for the next few minutes once more, which affords you all the silence you need to concentrate on what you’re doing. After closing his chest panel and lubricating the screws on his external joints, he was more or less in the clear. But from the way his uncharacteristic silence still persists, you know that he still has a couple more things on his mind.

“I didn’t like the way she said my name.”

You glance at Hoshi with a quizzical look, implicitly asking him to elaborate, which he thankfully does in a heartbeat.

“When I was still with the rest of 53V3NT33N, the fans would call out my name and it always felt good. It felt euphoric, even,” he reminisces as he sits up on the table, dark eyes trained on the tiled floor. “But with my client…it was the first time I felt unnerved hearing it come from another person’s mouth. It’s like—like she only saw me as a thing to enjoy. Not someone she loves, like our fans love me.”

The honesty in his words makes your heart sink.

Turns out, ridding an Automaton of its figurative innocence isn’t so different from that of a real person. The glittering curiosity that’s always been present in Hoshi’s eyes is nowhere to be found and you feel a deep-seated anger pooling in the pit of your stomach at the knowledge.

“Can you give me a new one?”

Blinking the irritation out of your eyes, you stare at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“A new name,” Hoshi says softly. “I never really liked the name Hoshi. Our management just thought it would make for good business to base my image around tigers. What’s more is that this city has already tainted it for me.”

The bitter laugh that follows his words has your chest aching with an emotion you can’t name. When was the last time you became this sad on a machine’s behalf, you wonder…

“Are you sure?” you murmur. “I’m not your boss or anything. If there’s anyone who has the right to give you a name, wouldn’t it be Chan?”

Hoshi shakes his head. “No. I want it to be you.”

Humans are already hard to figure out, but with each session you share with Hoshi, you learn that Automatons are even more so. He stares at you with such intense desperation in his eyes that you find it difficult to deny him. So, with a deep breath, you say the first name that pops into your head.

“How about...Soonyoung,” you breathe. “You are powerful because of your innocence and glory combined. It’s obvious in how you haven’t tapped out because of that less-than-stellar time with your first client.”

“Soonyoung…” he whispers under his breath, as if testing how the syllables would taste in his mouth. When the corners of his lips twitch into a smile, you know you’ve struck gold. “Did you just invent what the name means or…?”

“That’s for me to keep and for you to find out.” You shrug. “Well? Do you like your new name?”

“It’s not just my name. It’s yours, too.”

“...That doesn’t really make a lot of sense.”

Soonyoung laughs. “You’re the one who gave it to me. So it belongs to you, too.”

I belong to you too, you can almost hear him say, but erase the idea from your brain before you can get any more silly thoughts.

“Well, I think we should go. My sensors tell me that someone is very pissed off on the other side and I’m guessing that Jisung must’ve said something that annoyed Minho again.”

“For a robot, you’re pretty adept at picking up on human emotions,” you point out teasingly.

“Of course I am. I always want to appeal to the emotions of those around me, Y/N. Why do you think I dance my heart out every time I’m in the club?”

Oh.

He does know your name after all.

That evening, you decided to tag along with the boys to the club—grabbing a table for Jisung and yourself as you watched tonight’s lineup of performers. Soonyoung, with his newfound confidence thanks to the name you bestowed upon him, looks just as breathtaking as he was in the prime of his idol years. You wouldn’t have thought he’d just had an unsavory encounter with a client with how brightly he grins at the audience.

He reminds you a little of daylight breaking through the horizon minutes after dawn—almost blinding in his brilliance, but too precious for you to miss out on.

“What’re you doing?”

Soonyoung sounds a little annoyed when he glances over his shoulder. Your most loyal patient came in alone for the first time in months for his weekly maintenance check-up, but for some reason, his trusted mechanic is much more interested in something else.

You’re still tinkering with a portable hologram projector that wandered into Jisung’s weekly junk stash—one that your neighbor gave to you as a little plaything that’s been taking up most of your morning trying to figure out.

“Give me a second,” you grumble as you attempt to salvage the inner workings of the worn out thing with a soldering iron. “I’ve only read about these things in books, and my old mentor said they usually contain the final messages of a ship captain whose spacecraft is about to get destroyed.”

“That’s weirdly specific of you, don’t you think?” Soonyoung huffs. “Come on. I’ve got a client to meet in two hours and Hyunjin’s being really annoying with this new routine he came up with. I need to go back and practice as soon as I’m done here.”

You let out a quiet laugh before giving up on the hologram projector. “Oh? Time sure flies, doesn’t it? I could’ve sworn you hated taking up clients just yesterday.”

He whines. “It’s been half a year since I started doing that!”

“Like I said—time flies!”

Your sessions have grown shorter and shorter with each passing week. Every time you fine-tune Soonyoung’s circuitry, you observe that he’s become less prone to internal malfunctions. You didn’t think it was possible for a Level 1 Automaton to fully adapt to the frequency of the electromagnetic waves in Salax, but Soonyoung has surprised you time and time again.

Now, he can go on for weeks without powering down to regain his energy. He’s as good as any dancer—both human and robot—can be, and you honestly consider telling him that he doesn’t really have to come in for his weekly check-ups anymore.

Soonyoung, however, doesn’t seem thrilled with the news.

“What do you mean I don’t have to come here anymore?” He pouts.

“There’s nothing left for me to check, big guy,” you sigh as you seal his chest panel back up. “You’ve been stable for months now. I don’t even charge Chan for your check-ups anymore since everything is relatively normal.”

“But if I don’t get any check-ups, can I still come here?”

You make a face at him. “What for?”

“To hang out! Minho and Jisung do it all the time. Although Jisung always barges into the club uninvited and we have to stop Minho from beating him up…”

His invite perplexes you more than it flatters you because… You’ve never encountered any cases where an Automaton would willingly go out of its way to spend time with a human that doesn’t hold any sort of authority over it.

They’re sentient, yes, but at the end of the day, those emotions that others trick themselves into believing that bots can feel are just a clever arrangement of ones and zeros. It’s easy to lose oneself into one’s own delusions when in need of a little company, but you know that you aren’t that desperate for companionship.

It’s always just been you and the bots and other machines you fix for a living. Well, maybe Minho and Jisung when they’re not busy trying to piss each other off. You don’t need to hang out with Soonyoung.

And yet…

“Fine,” you relent with little resistance, feigning nonchalance by fluttering back to the projector you’ve been trying to salvage. “Just don’t make too much of a racket or I’ll kick you out.”

Soonyoung beams at your agreement, tugging his shirt back on before shuffling towards you and embracing you from behind. The suddenness of the gesture obviously catches you by surprise. You nearly drop the portable holo projector, but Soonyoung’s reaction time is quite phenomenal.

“Hey, don’t drop it. It’s already been through a lot.”

Still unnerved by the feel of his beefy, synthetic arms wrapped around your frame, you glance at him warily. “You talk like it’s some sentient creature.”

“It is! Well, by some degree, I guess,” Soonyoung chuckles before flipping the thing over in his hand. “Machines are just like people too. If you listen close enough, you can hear what they want to tell you.”

“Uh-huh,” you drawl before disentangling yourself from his embrace before you could implode from embarrassment. If he notices just how flustered you are, he doesn’t show it. “What’s this thing trying to tell you then?”

“Its creator hid the switch inside the motherboard, but you’re damaging it with a soldering iron. You just need to look for it harder.” Soonyoung hands the gadget back to you with a warm smile. “Well, I’ve gotta go now. Hopefully, when I go hang out with you, that thing will already be fixed.”

Soonyoung prances out of the lab with a skip to his step before you can even give your own input. When you hear the front door of your house click shut, you grab your toolbox with a withering sigh before trying a different approach to your current predicament.

To your chagrin, it’s just as Soonyoung said—the switch was hidden somewhere beneath the motherboard and you were able to witness a space cadet’s last five minutes of life.

He talked about how much he missed home, how he wished he just died on Earth instead of being launched into space after the implosion of the sun of the first solar system. Then, he left a message for a woman that used to be his childhood sweetheart—saying that it was only a matter of time before they were reunited. Before you can glean any more information about the cadet, the feed was cut off and hologram flickered out.

The entire experience leaves you dumbfounded for about five minutes. A hologram from over a hundred years ago just wound up in Jisung’s junk stash. What are the odds?

“Giz? Are you in here?”

Speaking of Jisung, the devil himself weasels his way into your lab just when you’re done tidying up your little experiment for today. You’re just about to tell him what you saw in the holo projector, but the look on his face makes you pause.

The cheerful, pain-in-the-ass neighbor of yours seems a little…exhausted. There are dark circles beneath his eyes, and his cheeks look a bit thinner than you remember. Jisung is the kind of person that rarely lets the things that bother him show on his face, so you’re a little concerned to see him in such a state right now.

“Jisung, what’s wrong?”

He doesn’t even hesitate. “It’s Jieun… He’s—He needs a heart transplant. If he doesn’t get a replacement in eight weeks, he’ll die. I can’t handle that, Y/N. I can’t lose him. He’s the only family I’ve got left…”

You panic internally somewhat when Jisung starts rambling in front of you, tears streaking his face as the man who you thought was always a step ahead of everybody starts to crumble before you. You’re not expert in consoling people who direly need it, but you’re at least rational enough to lead him out of your stuffy lab and back to the comfort of your living room.

There, you give Jisung a glass of water and several minutes to catch his breath.

Once he calms down, he speaks.

“I’ve already outsourced a compatible donor,” he murmurs. “It should all be in the clear now, but the problem right now is money. The shitty healthcare system on this planet won’t greenlight any transplants unless everything is paid in full. I-I can’t come up with the money they want from me in less than two months.”

Fuck. He’s in a tight spot then. “Oh, Jisung…”

“But I’ve thought of a way that might work if you help me.”

You flash him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

Jisung’s throat bobs before letting out a shuddering breath. You only notice how bloodshot his eyes are when he leans closer to tell you about his so-called plan.

“Some intergalactic guards have been spotted around the main district lately. Word from the street is that they’re still searching for the other members of that idol group that escaped Earth and that a generous reward would be given to everyone who’ll cooperate,” he whispers conspiratorially, and from those few sentences alone, you’re already dreading what he’s planning. “If I lead them to Hoshi, I should be able to raise enough money for Jieun’s surgery. Enough that I can even split the reward between the two of us!”

“No,” you tell him sharply. “You’re not going to sell out Soo—Hoshi like that. He practically lives here already.”

“He’s just a fucking bot, Giz,” Jisung snaps. “The worst they’ll do if they catch him is give him time out for a few days until he’s back to being the idol that everyone knows and loves. If I don’t get the money I need for my brother’s transplant, he’s going to die.”

You hold Jisung’s intense stare despite not having a good enough comeback. He’s right. Soonyoung isn’t even supposed to be here at all. And if surrendering him to the cops meant Jisung would have the means to help his brother survive, the only logical thing to do is give him a hand.

But then you remember the way Soonyoung’s eyes disappear behind the widest of grins whenever he’s enjoying himself. How he trusted you enough to confide in his troubles during his first client booking, the way his eyes sparkled when you first called him Soonyoung—

It’s not just my name. It’s yours, too.

“I can’t help you, Jisung,” you murmur. “If you’re going to go about the situation like this, I can’t help you. I’m sorry.”

Your neighbor and long-time friend nods once, twice before getting up from your couch. Guilt bites into your chest as Jisung leads himself to the front door, and you could’ve sworn your heart sank into your stomach when he closes it behind him.

In the ear-splitting silence, you wonder if there’s any way to save someone without sacrificing anybody else.

While it’s true that you’ve never taken up the type of entertainment that Salax is famous for, that doesn’t mean you’re completely unaware of what goes on during those sorts of transactions.

Despite himself, Minho can be a bit of a chatterbox especially when he’s had one drink too many. There was a time when he told you about how he was booked for the night by a married couple and they edged him until he was in tears on the mattress. Then, he proceeded to share that he was quite literally incapacitated for days because the wife had exceptional skill with her strap-ons.

You don’t really hear these kinds of stories from Soonyoung. The possible reasons are 1.) Automatons don’t have a sense of gossip and see no benefit in sharing the gritty details of their sex lives, and 2.) He just doesn’t see you as someone worth telling said gritty details about.

The second possibility gnaws at you more than it should. You don’t really care about Soonyoung’s nightly escapades. You’re just his mechanic. As long as he doesn’t fuck himself up like he used to when he first started working at the club, you’ll have no complaints.

But after a late-night grocery store run, you unknowingly run into Soonyoung and someone who you presume to be one of his clients. They’re right outside the building of Chan’s club, and Soonyoung is obviously romancing the woman who paid for his company that night by caging her against the wall, whispering something in her ear with a sordid smirk.

You’ve never seen him like this. Whenever he’s with you, Soonyoung’s all too-wide smiles and unprovoked hugs. The more he hangs out with you during his free time, the more difficult it is for you to picture him as that seductive dancer that has charmed everyone who’s anyone on Salax.

Part of you—an irrational part of you—wants to hide him away from the rest of the world. But then you remember you’re just his mechanic and that it would be weird to be feeling this way about an Automaton, of all things.

You manage to brush off the scene you witnessed for a few weeks. Soonyoung still shows up at your house to watch a few movies or help you fix some other bots that come into the shop. He’s excellent company because his robot-to-robot communication skills make your job easier than it used to be.

Until one night, he snuggles up to you on the couch a little too closely—your heart beating a little too fast at the close proximity.

“I don’t get why she has to give up her tail for a man,” he murmurs from where his chin is propped on top of your shoulder, pulling you closer to him whether he knows it or not. “Aren’t there any other mermen that Ariel could just get with?”

“That’s what makes the story interesting, Soonie,” you chuckle, trying not to melt in his embrace despite knowing that the heat of his body is all artificial. “She’s sacrificing everything for love. It’s all part of the human experience.”

Soonyoung scoffs at that. “But Ariel’s a mermaid.”

“Just shut up and watch the movie.”

Ever the obedient bot, your current company does as he’s told until the credits start rolling and you have to get up to rid yourself of a crick in your neck. You’ve been in the same position for over two hours, having forgotten that Automatons don’t need to move around to get comfortable in their seats. Oversight on your part, really.

But before you can even attempt to crawl out of Soonyoung’s secure embrace, he tugs you back down—forcing you to face him with a puzzled expression.

“I’m gonna get some water,” you tell him. “Let me go, clingy robot.”

He doesn’t budge. Soonyoung simply pins you in place with his firm grip and the heat of his stare, and it takes you a few moments to realize that he’s looking at you the same way he looked at that woman outside of Chan’s club a few nights ago.

“You saw me while I was working, didn’t you?” he murmurs. “I’m sorry.”

You swallow thickly. “W-Why are you apologizing?”

“Because I accidentally introduced myself with the name you gave me,” Soonyoung sighs, lower lip swelling into a pout. “I always go by Hoshi at work, but we’d just finished watching Pocahontas together before I timed in that night.”

“Soonyoung,” you address him warily, unsure of where you should place yourself in this situation. “What are you going on about? That name is yours.”

“And I told you that it’s yours as well, didn’t I?” His laughter is a soft noise that tickles the back of your neck, making gooseflesh prickle the skin of your arms.

“I’m yours.”

His words make a steady buzz resound in your head, making you second guess if any of this is even real. Did you drink too many pints of beer and are currently hallucinating a Soonyoung that might feel the same way you do about him? That’s not right. Jisung already emptied your fridge of alcoholic beverages months ago and you haven’t bought any new packs since.

But if you’re not intoxicated, why in the world is an Automaton speaking to you as if he’s confessing feelings he doesn’t even have?

“You’re just hung up on the movie, you bucket of bolts,” you grumble, trying to push him off of you to no avail. Fuck. This is all very much real then. “Soonyoung, I’m not playing around.”

“Neither am I,” he whispers. When he leans closer, you don’t feel his breath on your face, don’t hear his heart thundering in his chest because he isn’t human.

He isn’t human, yet why doesn’t that stop you from wanting him anyway?

“Tell me to get up and leave if you want me to stop,” Soonyoung proposes with a dangerous look in his eyes. “Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll leave you alone for good.”

You want him—you want him so fucking bad, it feels like a disease.

“Why’re you only coming for me with this now?” you whisper. “What prompted it?”

The handsome Automaton laughs quietly, caressing your face so delicately, you wonder if he learned to practice it from the countless clients he’s entertained. “I think I’ve always been a little attached to you since I first woke up after breaking down. You’re the one who cured my anxiety, Y/N. It’s only natural for me to feel drawn to you.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“Heh. Fine. Maybe it’s because Ariel inspired me to be a little more like her—to sacrifice everything love.”

…Love?

Soonyoung loves you?

It doesn’t make sense. He isn’t supposed to love. Automatons are sentient, but they aren’t capable of a full spectrum of emotions. The mere prospect of it goes against everything you’ve been taught ever since you decided that you wanted to become a mechanic.

But from the way Soonyoung is looking at you alone, you remind yourself that every now and again, there are outliers to all the facts printed on every Automaton textbook you’ve buried your nose in.

Rationality is your enemy at this point, and you toss all of it to the wind when you yank the front of Soonyoung’s shirt—mending your lips into a kiss that shouldn’t feel as good as it does. His mouth is soft on top of yours, and he moves to the cadence you’ve set so languidly, it almost feels fluid. You gasp into his mouth when Soonyoung curls an arm around your waist, pressing you as close to him as humanly possible.

“Soonyoung,” you whisper. “Want you.”

He pulls away for a second—not even looking a fraction of how disheveled you are from a single kiss. “Are you sure?”

The concern in his tone sends a rush straight through your skull. What kind of algorithm allows for an Automaton to express that kind of emotion on its own accord? Are the other idols that escaped with him the same way? You find out that you don’t really know the answers to these questions right now—nor do you want to know.

What you want is for him to be so deep inside you, you’ll feel him for days.

You yank him down for another kiss all while you desperately rid yourself of your once-comfortable and now-stifling clothes. They come off one by one until they’re but a heap on the floor and Soonyoung has the gall to chuckle at your impatience.

“If you wanted me this much, you should’ve just told me sooner,” he whispers, peppering your face with featherlight kisses. “I think I’ve had enough practice to be a good enough lover for you.”

“Mention that so-called practice again and I’ll deactivate your nervous system,” you growl and Soonyoung responds by trailing his mouth across your neck—suckling at the skin above your pulse with a conniving grin.

Just like any other humanoid Level 1, Soonyoung is soft in all places humans should be. His lips, his skin—everything. While the physics that surrounded an Automaton’s male genitalia are out of your scope of expertise, it’s infinitesimally interesting to know that their cocks work the exact same way as a human’s. Even if there’s no blood coursing through his non-existent veins, Soonyoung still gets hard with just the right stimulus.

That stimulus being the swell of your breasts because he hasn’t parted from them since he started suckling on the sensitive flesh five minutes ago.

“Soonie,” you whimper, grinding your sopping core against his thigh. “More. Give me more.”

He laughs—a breathless little sound before his gaze flickers up to you so lovingly, it almost hurts. “I thought I was the impatient one between the two of us.”

“Just shut up and fuck me, please.”

The raw desire in your plea makes the smile disappear from his face. When Soonyoung presses his forehead against yours, his gaze sears into your own so intensely, you’ll still be able to see him with your eyes closed.

“I never thought I’d ever get to hear you beg for me,” he admits, adjusting himself on the couch for your comfort. “I want to hear it again.”

Your Automaton lover doesn’t give you any forewarning that he’ll be pushing the head of his cock inside you. You’re simply greeted by the welcome intrusion of him parting your slick walls—little to no preparation needed because of how much you’re dripping onto the cushions. Soonyoung hisses between his teeth, a ravenous look that you’ve never seen sitting on his face, which has you clamping down deliciously against his length.

“Do you feel it?” he murmurs, sinking inch by fucking inch into you. “Do you feel me inside you?”

You feel him everywhere. All of your senses are overloaded with him, him, him. Right now, he isn’t Hoshi from 53V3NT33N or Hoshi, the rising star of the red light district.

He’s Soonyoung. Your precious, irreplaceable Soonyoung.

“Yes,” you moan out loud, fucking your hips back onto his to generate the friction you so direly needed. “Deeper, Soonyoung. Want you deeper.”

And he gives you just that.

Soonyoung pistons his hips with practiced ease, not a single pant to be heard from him as his cock plunges in and out of your wet heat. You pull him into your embrace like you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you don’t hold onto him tightly enough and your lover quickly picks up on the message—wrapping his strong arms around you as he mercilessly pounds you into the sofa.

Every word you know eludes you as the mind-numbing pleasure frazzles your brain. You can’t even articulate how good it feels to have him ram into you like he wants to leave his mark inside your body forever. You’ve never had sex this toe-curling, and it’s a little pitiful to make that discovery when the one who’s fucking you to an inch of your life isn’t even human.

But that’s what makes it feel right in the midst of its wrongness.

When you come apart on his cock the first time, it makes you wonder if that’s what it feels like to fall from grace. The creeping high leading up to your release as you free-fall into oblivion should’ve been daunting, but all that sings in your veins is pure ecstasy as Soonyoung fucks you through your orgasm.

He leans down to capture your lips, devouring your mouth in a way that only means he’s staking his claim. It’s a kiss that bruises—a kiss that persists. And you barely hear yourself scream his name into his mouth when you finally come down from bliss.

Just when you thought you could finally let yourself breathe, Soonyoung gently turns you around on the couch—forcing your back into an arch as he props you up by the knees. Still disoriented from your last orgasm, you don’t immediately process what he’s trying to do until you feel the hardness of his cock nudging against the ridge of your ass.

That’s when you remember that Automatons do not get tired.

Fuck.

“You better be ready for me,” Soonyoung chuckles into your ear before pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“If you want me, you’re getting all of me.”

In the aftermath, you let yourself look at Soonyoung even with your eyes streaked with tears. He’s smiling at you like you’re the most precious thing in all the galaxies combined and you’re too fucked out to not melt into his embrace when he engulfs you in the heat of his arms.

You love him, you think.

Loving a machine that shouldn’t be capable of love is contradictory in every sense of the word. He’s a complete softie whenever he hangs out with you, but would pass as a predator when he’s with his clients. He’s a bot that loves to dance, but would give that up in a heartbeat if others needed him for another purpose.

Then again the lines have started to blur considerably since Soonyoung started fucking you into incoherence. Pain and pleasure, human and not human, love and lust—

“I love you,” you murmur, only half conscious as Soonyoung carries you to your bed. “Soonyoung, I love you…”

A soft laugh rumbles deep in his chest as he tucks you in—replacing the warmth of his body with the comfort of your blanket. You frown at the sudden change, but he’s tired you out too much for you to hold up any sort of protest.

As he stands before the doorway, you manage to wrench your eyes open just a tad—enough to see the ray of sunshine standing before you with a loving look on his face. He even does that little pose with his fingers clenched like a tiger’s claws—the one he did when he opened his eyes after you managed to fix him the first time.

Horanghae… That’s what he called it, right?

You’re too exhausted to notice the pained undertones that lurk beneath Soonyoung’s smile, but perhaps it’s something that you can deal with once morning comes.

If he’s still there at all.

“That took you a while.”

Jisung’s voice is clipped when Soonyoung emerges from your house with an indifferent look on his face. Standing right behind him are a bunch of familiar faces—namely 53V3NT33N’s main manager along with a handful of guards that used to keep them tightly locked up back in their main facility on Earth.

He never thought he’d have to see them again.

“If I’m leaving this place for good, I’m not going to go without giving her something to remember me by,” Soonyoung grumbles, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweats as he rejoins his former colleagues. “Is it true? You’ll give Jisung enough money for his brother’s transplant if I come back?”

His manager nods once. “Positive. The reward money will be doubled since you returned without resistance. But I cannot guarantee the degree of the punishment you’ll be facing because of your escape.”

Right. Of course there’ll be consequences for his own actions. But Soonyoung is just glad that he got to have you at least once in his robotic life before he has to turn himself back in.

“Jisung,” Soonyoung—no, Hoshi calls out. “Can you promise to take care of her? If you don’t, I’ll personally fly back here to kill you with my own two hands.”

“Hoshi,” one of the guards grunts behind him, shoving his back with a warning glare. “No violence. Even minor threats like that will make your sentence even heavier.”

He doesn’t care. Not really.

“Just give the man his money and let’s go,” he grumbles, forcing himself to turn away from the direction of your house before his code malfunctions and he ends up bolting back inside.

His manager nods before one of the assistants presents Jisung with a suitcase full of enough wads of cash to fund his brother’s surgery and more. There’s a look on your neighbor’s face that Hoshi can only identify as regret, but there’s really no use for that now.

Even if Jisung didn’t need the money from turning over a rogue Automaton, Hoshi still would’ve surrendered eventually. When word got around that his hunters had finally tracked him down to Salax, he already knew his days were numbered.

But despite knowing all that, it doesn't stop him from wishing he had more time.

When daylight comes and the sun lights up the darkness of your room, you squint at how bright it shines even through the curtains. You’re sore all over and it only takes a single glance at your body to realize that maybe having multiple rounds of sex with a tireless Automaton wasn’t one of the best choices you’ve made in your life.

That, and you’re going to have to give Soonyoung a very long lecture about the physiological differences between his body and yours. And that leaving without waking you up is a major foul when it comes to sleeping with someone you care about.

Right after freshening up and soothing every bit of tender flesh, you go about your day like usual—doing chores, checking if Jisung is home (he’s not), and holing yourself up in your lab to work on a few projects you’ve been procrastinating long enough.

But just when you’re about to bust open your toolbox, you notice a familiar gadget sitting on top of your work table. The same work table that you could’ve sworn you made sure to clear out the previous evening.

It’s another portable hologram projector—one that looks exactly like the old artifact you managed to revive thanks to Soonyoung’s intervention. This one looks less shabby than the one Jisung gave you back then, and you realize that there’s a note stuck to the bottom.

The switch is right beneath the motherboard. Don’t forget! - S

Huh. That guy had the time to put together a hologram for you, but he couldn’t be bothered to wake you up before he left? The nerve of some Automatons, really…

None the wiser about your newfound lover’s actual whereabouts, you followed the instructions Soonyoung whispered into your ear several months ago before letting it play.

⟢ end notes: yay you're at the end of it! thank you so much for reading <3 thank you so so much to bee for being big-brained enough to put this collab together. i've always wanted to 1.) write a sci-fi fic and 2.) write more for soonyoung so this opportunity was a good avenue for both <3 i'm just bummed bc i procrastinated this for too long and kind of ended up with a subpar fic, but !! i still kinda enjoyed building the world around soonyoung and yn and their friends :') in another life, i would've fleshed this out properly, but for now, i'll leave you all with this! do check out the other fics in the collab bc it will definitely expand on this massive universe that we all worked hard to put together <3

this is part of @idyllic-ghost's svt sci-fi collab!

#seventeen smut #svthub #soonyoung smut #hoshi smut #seventeen x reader #soonyoung x reader #hoshi x reader #lovelyhan #📖 collabs #full length fic 📚

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emeraldtart · 8 months ago

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TWST X No Straight Roads (ft. 1010!Yuu)

After the whole Rock Revolution fiasco, Neon J decided it's time to introduce a new member to 1010. Also because his twins (Eloni and Haym) wanted a baby sibling.

So he made Kaw*. The crew's newest member, rapper, and the mysterious one. Since they're recently made, they're as sentient as MK-I androids, but it doesn't stop their fellow troops and captain from trying to indulge them.

Unfortunately, an incident involving Kliff messing with Neon J and DJSS's newest equipment caused them to be pulled to Twisted Wonderland to everyone's horror.

Facts about 1010!Yuu

Their name is a pun on two things 'kau' which is one of the ways to say 'you', which is in a more casual way as opposed to 'awak'. And also 'kaw' which means strong tasting beverages.

They're not sentient (yet)

They are made as a foil to Rin, from their colors (white vs purple), roles (leader and loner) and 'age' (oldest and youngest).

Their weapon is a gun, and they have a sniper gun installed in their arms. Think of Lady Nagan from MHA.

They haven't met Bunk Bed Junction. Their siblings were planning to meet with them until the incident.

Throughout the prologue they're just standing there like ._. while the chaos is happening around them. Nothing in their programming make them equipped with this situation.

Flirt with the first years + dorm leaders because they mistake them as a crowd of fans.

Their base programming/personality can be summed up as: quiet.

Shroud brothers are equal part excited and confused. Excited because holy crap, an idol robot!? That's cool! Confused because who installs weapons inside a idol robot!?

They're waterproof, as they are a navy robot.

Idia realizes he's a hypocrite because he did the same thing to Ortho.

Kaw is mostly expressionless until they see a large enough crowd and they suddenly flirts with them.

They can sing and dance, and sometimes sings the last word of a sentence.

Neon J made Kaw more durable, as he had learnt from his encounter with B2J during the Rock Revolution. They won't explode from people screaming, and they also have a sort of mini-Qwasa in their body that they can charge by listening to Funky House and Dance-pop/Europop music, which they can do simply be performing a song in that genre.

They're also charged by cheers like their brothers.

Since they came from a world that revolves around music, their body occasionally moves to an invisible tempo, even when they are standing still.

Started to show signs of sentience during Heartslabyul when Riddle insulted Neon J. They began to insult him back in a way only robots can, and everyone who heard their words were scared of what they said.

In Savanaclaw they started to 'have fun' playing a magicless form of Magishift with the first years and Savanaclaw.

Octavinelle was when they became fully sentient. They suddenly cried when the Savanaclaw students tried to pick a fight with them, as the stress finally catch up with them.

Everyone freaks out because 1) They can cry!? and 2) Oh shit, they're crying.

It also happens that at that moment Neon J managed to connect with Kaw's hologram projector + communicator, sees his metal child crying with an awkward Savanaclaw gang and Grim trying to console them, and began to threat the ever-loving daylights out of the students.

After all is said and done, Kaw explains everything and Neon J starts making plans on how to take out Azul.

Kaw: Dad. You can't do that, that's illegal.

Neon J: I know. But just so you know, your older brothers are not going to- wait. Did you just call me dad!?

Kaw: Wha- I- I mean SIR! *salutes*

Neon J: Oh my gosh... TROOPS! YOUR FELLOW SOLDIER HAS GAINED SENTIENCE! COME TAKE A LOOK!

Kaw: DAD, NO!!!

Savanaclaw looking at Neon J and thought: Oh Sevens, they weren't kidding when they said their captain(dad?) has a sonar for a head.

Jack may or may have not taken a picture of Neon J's hologram and send it to ADeuce (the picture got photobombed by the rest of 1010)

Let just say that Crowley's on NJ + 1010's hit list when they found out what he made their youngest member do.

The list of people increased when Neon J brought it up to NSR meetings.

B2J found out through 1010 who were hanging out with them.

Crowley is on sight in Vinyl City, beaten only by Kliff.

When VDC rolls in, they join in the training as emotional support.

Kaw managed to find a loophole in Vil's Unique Magic so they sneak in some sweets for the VDC team.

Trein noticed Kaw's disappointment at not being allowed to join in on VDC, being a 10-feet 10-inches tall robot and all. He pulled some strings with Crewel and allow Kaw to join in on the closing ceremony with their brothers.

Let just say that Kaw aced both history and potionology as a thank you gift.

As for Malleus, he was interested in this tall robot. A being made of metal, that sings and dance and powered by music? Very interesting indeed.

Their talk at first is very brief because of Kaw's lack of sentience, but then they started to become more human and eventually Malleus pointed out how they have become much more than what they were born for; a living being.

Kaw calls him Abang (Big brother/older brother).

Rin felt that his status as the eldest brother is being challenged.

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httpiastri · 9 months ago

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im really looking forward for perfectly fine but I also support popstar!reader x paul

i love to imagine him acting like all shy around someone hes intimidated and attracted at the same time 😭

i rlly feel you, i really enjoy writing perfectly fine but that popstar!au is lingering on my mind... im still thinking about the reader being sunshine and rainbows and everything nice, and paul is just "😦 she's real?"... seeing her in these rlly hot outfits for her performances etc. and watching her perform in front of thousands and thousand of people, with that amazing confidence... he doesn't believe in it, it's surreal. he forgets how to act completely. he gets so stiff and cute 😭 and she has to try to hard to pull him out of it and eventually when he does relax a little, he realizes how natural he can act around her....

ive been thinking about when they eventually do get closer and he feels more comfortable w her, and she invites him to a red carpet event with him. and he feels so so out of place, but with her hand in his, her easygoing nature and that cute smile on her lips, he can maybe at least breathe just a little <3

omg and i also have this one headcanon about her releasing a new song with like little hints to him... and him listening to it like "...that sounds like... what we did... but it can't be about me, no way... she's a huge star, she could never write something like this about me".......

oh and i might've especially thought about sabrina carpenter's "fast times"...

"sun's up too soon like daylight savings" = about her going with him to other time zones...

"picturing us in all these places; ahead of myself's an understatement" = her dreaming and thinking about him and the places they would go together...

"tiptoeing past so many stages, but what the fuck is patience?" = he's careful, she's impulsive. he's very but what if someone ––?, she's very so what?

"fast times and fast nights" = he literally drives fast cars 😶

#the reader's paddock fashion.... *chefs kiss*#would be so iconic #paul is such a cutie <33 i love him sm #and i love this idea sm aaaaa thanks to everyone whos contributed #🫶🫶🫶#asks!#anon!#paul thoughts #paul x popstar!yn au

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herearedragons · 4 months ago

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ok oc relationship ask again. same thing (3, 6, 40, 100) for lorenzo x aloth <3

OC relationship asks

3. What is their love language?

Well, Lorenzo did teach Aloth Vailian, which they use to flirt without their Aedyran-speaking friends knowing exactly what they're saying, so they do kind of have a "love language" I guess hshshdhdjd

but in general I do think that they show affection a lot through just. talking. they've both spent a lot of time being alone and unable to really share their thoughts and be honest with anyone, so having someone to freely speak their mind to means a lot. In terms of physical affection, I don't think they do it a lot in public (that one line of narration about Aloth brushing his knuckles against the Watcher's sounds about right for them), but privately, yeah. Also Lorenzo *is* a chanter and he *will* just straight up write poetry and songs for the person he likes and then perform them in broad daylight.

Also, I think they're pretty aware of each other's anxieties and know when the other feels unsafe, so they'll keep an eye on each other and try to help if they see the other start to get nervous for whatever reason.

6. Who would ask the "would you love me if I were a worm?" question? How would their S/O answer?

hsjsbdjdjr I think both of them would have to be in a pretty weird headspace to ask that question, but I'm going to say Lorenzo is probably the one asking (he may or may not be a little drunk). Aloth says that if Lorenzo was a worm he'd just turn him back into a person, because he's NOT spending his life with a worm. Lorenzo goes "so no???" and Aloth goes "well I would still love YOU, but I would NOT love the fact that you were a worm. where is this even coming from?? do you WANT to be a worm?" (Lorenzo does not want to be a worm. to Aloth's great relief)

40.What is a song that reminds you of the OCs' relationship?

The Alorenzo song of the day is: Everyone by Sleeping At Last! (specifically pre-relationship vibes, with their relative secrets not being out yet)

What have you seen?

What have you felt?

Your lips are closed, the curtain's shut

All that we can see is on your sleeve

I know from time to time

That hope seems but a foreign land

A distance that we cannot reach

A language we cannot speak

100.Make a meme of this ship.

Answered in a separate post!

#thanks for the ask!!#alorenzo tag #oc: watcher lorenzo

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taey0ngsvape · 1 year ago

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wayv’s relationship styles as taylor swift lyrics

pairing: ot6 x reader genre: headcannons, fluff word count: 1.1k contains: idol!wayv, so much fluff, just them being cute

for my swifties out there <3

Kun

“i want your midnights

i’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on new year’s day”

- New Year’s Day (reputation, track 15)

This is my favorite Taylor Swift song Ever, it is so indescribably special to me, and I think it’s perfect for Kun.

To me, this song is about a resilient relationship of strength and support. No matter what sort of obstacles you face or mistakes you make, at the end of the day, you always come back to each other.

I think he would want a lot of reassurance from his partner, sometimes he finds himself wondering if he’s doing enough. His busy schedule makes it hard for him to spend as much time with you as he wishes he could and sometimes he just needs a verbal confirmation that it’s enough and that you love him no matter what.

This song also reminds me of a more domestic type of love. Like he’ll wash the dishes while you dry them or dancing together in the kitchen at midnight while cooking something for him to eat after coming home from a late practice.

Just likes a reminder that regardless of the hardships you face, together and individually, you’ll always be together at the end.

Ten

“i once believed love would be burning red, but it’s golden”

- Daylight (Lover, track 18)

He’s very passionate about everything, dancing, performing, he gives every ounce of energy he has. But when it comes to love, it’s different.

His love is less of burning fire and more of consistent warmth, light, and comfort.

He can brighten up any day, no matter how bad it ends up being. One smile and you already feel miles better than before.

He would sit with you for hours and just talk about anything and everything. It doesn’t matter if it’s a good day or a bad one, he just likes hearing about your life. He’s the kind of person who values a deep connection and he wants to know you as much as he can.

He’s gentle and caring, but he’ll still tease you sometimes. He never takes it too far though, he can read you well and knows when to stop before crossing a line. Little jabs are a part of his love language, but he balances them out by being attentive and affectionate.

Winwin

“i’m the one who makes you laugh when you know you’re about to cry

and i know your favorite songs and you tell me about your dreams”

- You Belong With Me (Fearless, track 6)

Falling asleep on FaceTime together would become a routine whenever you’re apart.

You get used to him calling in the late hours of the night after he’s finished work for the day he just wants to hear your voice. He likes hearing about your day, even the most mundane things (those are actually his favorite details) like the lady with a little dog in her purse on the bus or the woman in a business suit and headphones dancing by herself on the sidewalk. He likes the fact that you’re so open with him, always willing to share yourself.

It makes him want to do the same for you as well. I don’t think it would take long at all for you to really get to know him well, especially once he gets comfortable around you. Your late night talks would become his favorite thing.

Xiaojun

“all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing”

- Sweet Nothing (Midnights, track 12)

This lyric goes both ways in your relationship. He’s always supportive of you and doesn’t expect you to try and “repay” him in any way, he does it because he loves you and wants you to be happy.

I once heard someone describe this song as “everyone wants something from me, you just want me” and I think that’s exactly the case with Xiaojun. He’s an idol, he is constantly surrounded by people who all want something from him, expect something from him, so he absolutely treasures the fact that you just want him.

He also doesn’t seem like one for grand gestures but instead he’s more subtle about showing his care for you, like holding onto little pieces of information about you like your favorite food so he can cook it for you at some point, or a movie you mentioned so you two can watch it together.

His love is in the little things but they all add up.

Hendery

“you carry my groceries and now i’m always laughing”

- Stay, Stay, Stay (Red, track 9)

He would find so much joy and comfort in the domesticity of your relationship.

Late night runs to the grocery store for ice cream, sitting next to him while he games with your head on his shoulder, cooking together, he loves the moments when it’s just the two of you.

Also, he loves your laugh and he loves it even more when you’re laughing because of him. He tells corny jokes and embarrassing stories all in the hope of making you smile.

He’s all fond smiles with a tender, loving gaze. He also likes holding your hand and it hurts him that he can’t hold your hand in public so he tries to make up for it when you’re alone.

Yangyang

“you can hear it in the silence

you can feel it on the way home

you can see it with the lights out”

- You Are In Love (1989 (Deluxe Version), track 15)

Even without verbal declarations of love happening very often, he will make sure that you never ever doubt how much he cares about you.

Likes spending time with you as much as possible, it doesn’t even matter what you’re doing. You could be hanging out in his room and just talking and that’s more than enough for him. He just loves being around you.

Very attentive and a good listener but he also knows how to add to the conversation and give advice or support. He definitely seems like the type to love dates where you just stay in, order some of your favorite food, and talk for hours.

When you get tired, he’d ask you to stay “just a little longer” and when you lean on him he plays with your hair until you’re about to fall asleep. Even then, he would still ask you to stay, it’s an unspoken ‘I love you.’

If you do decide to go home, he’d drive you himself so he can make sure you get home safely.

Never ends a day without sending a goodnight text.

#wayv imagines #wayv fluff #clare’s fics🌸

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thevoidisvoid · 1 year ago

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Concept Idea Porco Rosso (Underfell and Swapfell????"

Okay, so I was watching Porco Rosso and it occured to me that it is literally the perfect movie for Underfell Red? Like smexy Skelton Pilot in a bad-ass red plane? And the dork in me exploded.

I tried to make concept art, because when I picture it, I think of a Insert-Self x Red opportunity. But in two different ways. So I got sidetracked. Didn't put a lot of effort in. I also suck at drawing Skelly-Boys so that didn't help but I decided writing it out may work better???

I hope you enjoy, and possibly get inspired. The art will be at the end.

(Version 1.)

"But the answers no, I have kind of a bet going on here."

You look down at the book in your hands that you were clutching. Smiling fondly at it.

"I bet myself if a certain man came to visit me in my Garden, we'd fall in love…"

You can't stop the sigh that escapes your lips.

"But the fool only comes to my restaurant at night. He…he never shows in the daylight."

Black inhaled as he prepared to speak, you froze as a familiar noise came from the distance. Standing up you shoved your book into Black's hands and rushed out of the pavilion to your balcony.

He- he's here.

That red plane you'd both come to love and despise was flying through the air. Coming straight towards you it seemed.

"THAT GUY'S BACK?!"

But as always he never landed, instead performing an aerial loop, and spinning away into the clouds… where he belonged.

Of course…it was too much to hope today was the day he'd actually…

"Stupid…"

Black shot you a quizzical look as you shook your head.

"He left without landing."

You smile.

"I lost the bet again."

"ARE YOU KIDDING? YOUR BET IS ABOUT THAT JERK?"

Your smile was more and more genuine as you spoke with a soft laugh.

"Life is more complicated here, than in your country."

"If you're only looking for a fling that's easy…"

"Go to Hollywood yourself little boy."

With another laugh you left him.

(Version 2.)

"What the HELL are you talking about? You guys don't understand a word I said!"

Red could only watch with interest as they yelled at the group of Sea Pirates. This was definitely not how he expected things to turn out.

"I asked whether you feel ashamed or not. Aren't you ashamed of being helped by Black, an American? If your mother's heard about that, they would cry."

"Also what the hell are you saying, you don't even bathe?!"

He couldn't help but chuckle at the stunned expression of those stupid bastards.

"Red came back to fight against Black, for the pride and honor of the Pilots of Ebott Sea!

Wait…what?!

"You guys have no guts or honor. You are the lowest of the low. Fight with dignity!"

You crossed your arms, scowling at Undyne. Red could tell she'd been rather stunned by your push back.

"Well that's why I was opposed to hiring Black in the first place."

Yeah right…

"Coward. Trying to worm your way out of this."

"B-Boss what should we do? They have a convincing argument."

"We'll need to preserve both sides honor…we'll have to ask Black."

"You mean ask him to fight the SKELETON- Again?"

Oh the irony. These idiots seemed to miss the fact Black was also a Skeleton.

"The contract is already over…I'm so ashamed."

Undyne seemed really distraught. Which was well deserved. And now to wrap things up here-

"MWEHEHEHEH."

Oh great.

"It's Black!"

High above, in a gap carved into the cliffs Black stood (?) His arms and legs pressing against the walls of the cliff. Keeping him held in place.

"I HEARD YOU TALKING. I'M NOT GOING TO RUN AWAY!"

"you morons, you came down through there?"

Black gave a yell before leaping from his position in the cliffs and plummeted before landing firmly on his feet. He almost stumbled, but firmly continued walking as if he was a damn god.

"hey, hold this-"

Red shoved his bag of various items into the arms of one of the pirates and began moving towards Black.

"YOU WANT A REMATCH DON'T YOU. BUT I ALREADY WON ONCE."

He was going to wipe that pathetic smirk off his face.

"I'M NO LONGER A BODY GUARD FOR THESE GUYS."

All the more reason to beat-

"You mean you won't fight for free? What's your proposition?"

Oh no-

You had made your way to the front of the small mob of pirates and were glowering at Black. Who took one look at you before-

"T-THEY'RE BEAUTIFUL."

He clasped your hands, and you gave a small noise of disgusted surprise.

"WILL YOU MARRY ME IF I WIN? I'M SERIOUS."

Ha! As if they'd give in to-

"Okay- but if Red wins you pay these bills!'

You somehow managed to slap Black in the face with that notebook of yours. A small distraction that kept him from completely losing it.

"wait-"

"Back off you!"

Aaron shoved Red backwards and he was immediately surrounded by a mixture of weapons and magic attacks. Something he could've easily escaped. But he didn't.

"You still have time to think about this."

Undyne sounded rather gentle for once, and Red eyed her suspiciously.

"Ask him, not me."

"THESE BILLS ARE A LITTLE EXPENSIVE."

"They're extremely reasonable"

"Are you going to fight or not Black?"

Undyne almost seemed to be trying to prevent this, which was an abrupt change from before.

"I'LL GLADLY FIGHT FOR THE ONE I LOVE."

"Okay everybody listen up!"

Undyne's yell echoed through the island, almost as loud as that insufferable Black's.

"I'm very impressed with the humans determination! My group will back this fight up!"

A chorus of agreements.

"The air pirate alliance will too!"

"Bye Human!!! See you soon!"

"they're full of crap."

"HEY SKELETON, DON'T RUN AWAY."

"shut up, and get off my island!"

"Later!"

As quickly as they'd exploded onto the small island they vanished, Black following on top of the crowd.

#sans x y/n #undertale #red underfell #underfell au #porco rosso #artwork #short story #idk why #inspiration #planes #studio ghilibi #ghibli au #undyne #swapfell #funny #first post

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embracethemadmess · 2 years ago

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chapter #2 - kimchi burrito

Fandom: Moon Knight

Pairing: Steven Grant x Jake Lockley

Will they date?: Can be read either as platonic or romantic

Summary: Khonshu really craves Jake as his avatar, therefore he makes the decision to divide moon system into three individuals. Marc takes this opportunity to work on his relationship with Layla, Steven tries to build his very own life from scratch. However, when they’re split, there’s a little surprise awaiting for the two of them. Turns out Marc had more than one alter. His name is Jake, he speaks Spanish and wears flat caps. He’s also… hm, a tad like a stray cat at first - wild, unpredictable, scared. Steven convinces him to stay with him and in between Moon Knight’s missions he discovers that Jake is fond of sun-dried tomatoes and toying with Steven’s rings.

You can read it on ao3: https://compress.boo/g/BDP4TYGP

⁺₊⋆˖⁺‧₊ ☽ ◯ ☾ ₊‧⁺˖⋆⁺₊

“Turns out, it wasn’t about getting 10,000 steps in, you know? That’s the funny part, actually,” Steven mumbled between one bite of a vegetarian wrap and another. It was a homemade vegan kimchi burrito that he’d done for the first time, and it turned out so delicious, he couldn’t stop himself from literally devouring it, even though he knew he was being a bit rude speaking with his mouth full like that.

Especially while sitting so close to his converser, his face was most likely the only thing the living statue had in his view.

He sniffled, took barely a second to glance around at the people strolling by them on the town square, and then took another bite of his lunch.

“All that time I spent trying to stay awake at night to prevent my body from wandering about like crazy, it was just… another me, know what I mean?” he asked prior to continuing his disquisition without waiting for a proper response he wouldn’t get from the man before him, “You probably don’t, but, like, can you imagine? Two mes. Three, even, as I’ve recently learned.” The brunet laughed briefly, shaking head at his own words. He took another bite, at which the living statue didn’t spare him a disgusted look, even though he himself could feel his own breath smelling of garlic. “I thought I was all alone, and in reality I wasn’t lonely at all, I just was too high up my own arse to notice that. That’s amazing and also quite terrifying, to be totally honest with you, mate.”

Nodding at Crawley’s stoic expression, Steven let out a deep exhale, relief slowly flowing in his veins for the first time in days.

Officially, it’s been a full week since Marc flew back to Chicago.

Usually Steven visited the living statue man after his shifts, so mainly on late evenings, when the whole area was only lightened up by colorful lights from the main fountain, and fire from many torches maneuvered by street performers, warming his cheeks from afar. Now he was sitting on the bench beside Crawley in the daylight of a windy wednesday, ten o’clock was the time he had spotted on the phone that had been given to him to take a photo of a lovely couple of tourists a few minutes earlier, and he was squinting his eyes due to the late spring Sun mercilessly blinding him. It was a bit strange, he had to admit, not working at this time of a day. Not working at all.

“Yeah, anyways, it was only me, then it was me and Marc, me, Marc and Jake, and now it’s just me and Jake. Marc wants to rebuild his relationship with Layla, you know. Which is nice, they’re lovely together, yeah, it’s just…” he paused to try and think of a way to explain his feelings, then pursed his lower lip just a tad, when he felt hot sauce stinging in the corner of his mouth. “We’ve barely gotten to know each other, me and Marc. And, you’d think after all we’ve been through at this point, he shoulda wanted to stay in touch, right? I’ll admit, thinking he’d move in with me was a bit silly of me, that’s the truth, but like, the USA?” once again he asked rhetorically, his voice small, barely there. “And Jake, he’s a good lad, yeah, but I can see he’d rather follow Marc than stay with me. Which is fair, of course, between the two of us, Marc is definitely cooler. Handsome fella, very decisive. Good lad, good lad, yeah.”

Rambling, Steven finished his burrito, folded the cooking paper neatly and put it in his postbag, then cleaned any remaining crumbs and sauce on his mouth with a sleeve of his cardigan. Crawley didn’t move one bit, his arms spread as if inviting over for a cuddle, the golden paint on his kind face complimented by the sunlight. It was nice, Steven thought to himself, being able to sit with him once again after all the mad rubbish that had turned his life upside down in a matter of a few days. For that opportunity, he took out a small box of chocolate pralines with caramel flavoured cream and put it in a golden hat laying at their feet.

“I wonder if Jake knows about Marc’s ways of making a living,” he stated curiously, scratching his nose mindlessly. “I mean, he had to, right? With how close he stayed to Marc the whole time before Marc’s departure, he ought to know, don’t you think? But, he seems so… so-hmm…” he paused mid-sentence again, irritated with the way he struggled with words that day. He spat at himself with contempt, head lowered in shame, unable to see Crawley’s sympathetic gaze. “Ferocious? Like, he looks like he could murder in cold blood, but one rapid move of mine is all it takes for him to flinch away to the furthest corner he can find. Like he’s been hurt, but it was Marc taking our mum’s harsh touches, right? So it doesn’t make much sense. What do you think, Crawley?”

If Steven chose to look for the answer to this question on the living statue’s face, he would be met with confusion dancing around baby blue irises, making the red overline of his eyes even more prominent, at the way Steven so casually addressed him by his last name for the very first time. Instead, Steven only sat there, with his back huddled, fingers entwined on his own lap while his feet were barely reaching the ground. Memories of the day he had gotten the sack filled his mind as he was staring into an unspecified point somewhere ahead, and they made him wince visibly - deep lines creased olive skin, paper-thin and marked with a few after-shave scars, as well as countless tiny constellations of freckles. Full lips were left agape while his brows furrowed as the brunet glared suddenly at the golden man, ears almost fuming under thousands of thoughts flooding his lost mind.

“That’s worth exploring, innit?” A certain kind of déjà vu hit them both the moment these words left Steven’s throat, but he couldn’t care less for this odd repetition, as he was already hanging his bag over his shoulder, ready to sprint home. “He’s, Jake, he is the missing piece to our story. Like, if I could get him to trust me enough to feel comfortable around me, we might solve this mad puzzle once and for all. Oh, Crawley, you’re the best, honestly. No clue what I’d do without you sometimes.” With a small chuckle, Steven got up from the bench, brushed some nonexistent dust off warm-brown loose trousers, and then tossed a few coins into the golden hat. “I mean, Jake can trust me, would you agree? I’m far from being a threat, yeah? It’s not like I’m about to play any mind games with him, I just… I dunno, I better jog on,” he admitted the moment he could feel a single tear collecting in his left eye. “Thanks, mate,” he added right away, already leaning closer to the living statue, his arms reaching for the man on their own accord, and before he knew it, he had the golden-painted man locked in a weak hold.

“Cheers!” A cheerful greeting was the last thing Crawley heard before Steven briskly left the town square, almost bumping into some strangers several times during the process. Black cardigan was tousled by the gentle breeze, there might be a little sauce stain on the collar, but that was fine as long as it wasn’t the grey t-shirt

juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu65555555555555555555555555555555555`1killllllllllllllllll233333333333

he might’ve or might’ve not worn for a simple reason that that’s the piece of clothing Steven had seen Marc wearing the last time they had spoken before Marc had started erasing every trace of his presence in Steven’s apartament. So what, if it was a little sappy, it made him feel comfortable and warm, therefore he didn’t care.

It was a really nice day in London city; the sun was shining like there was not tomorrow, it was too early for tons of annoyingly annoyed Londoners to be stuck in traffics, cursing with their windows open, honking at everything and anything as if it could somehow give their cars wings to fly above the rest, right back home after a hard day at work; streets were moderately silent, letting Steven think through every tangled concern. Not that he would actually come up with solutions, oh no, but at least he could focus on what was going on in his very own mind, so the shivers he was feeling tossing his body around finally made sense, in a way. That was something; that could count as a small success.

Right?

As he was strolling down the street, dragging his feet in the direction of an old-fashioned block of flats, his thoughts kept coming back to the discovery of the third alter. It was exciting, after the initial shock, but it also didn’t sit right with him that Jake was so drastically different from him and Marc, in a completely new way. Jake’s flinches in situations he himself found quite normal; Jake’s alarming lack of care for his own needs that exceeded even the one Marc had evinced; Jake’s odd mix of self-consciousness and harshness in his every move.

He wanted to get to know Jake’s story, he needed to know it. He was determined.

Nevertheless, his determination meant as much as nothing in the light of their shared reality in the past week. Their schedules couldn’t be more divergent if they tried - when Steven was wide awake, Jake was deeply asleep and vice versa, during Steven’s sleep time Jake was either treading restlessly across Steven’s flat, or nowhere to be seen. And, in one or two moments they somehow managed to share, Steven could only be biting the inside of his cheeks while Jake only spoke Spanish - a language Steven hadn’t ever even heard aside from some random songs played in the radio that he hadn’t paid any attention, or a glimpse of a telenovela he had come across during jumping through tv channels in the time of lazy mornings consisting of eating too-sweet-for-his-own-good cereal and chatting with Gus and then Fake Gus. So, to sum it all up, Steven could come up with a solid conclusion that he was screwed.

He sighed heavily, buzzing himself in through the door prior to calling a lift probably way older than he was. Shivered at a memory of the day he had first encountered Khonshu in there; how the tall figure covered in ancient bandageshad limped toward him slowly, golden staff banging frighteningly into wooden hall-floor, lights switching on and off and on again, torturous pace Steven’s heart had been thudding against his ribcage, freezing coldness of walls and ground he had met when sliding down, cornered in a small box of a room vandalized by a few generations of rebellious teens, he supposed. Anxiety locked its claws tightly around his neck at just the thought of that moment in his life, and he put his hand close to his chest to try and massage his hurting sternum, his eyes clenched shut, nostrils widening uncontrollably under the pressure of air being inhaled greedily.

“It’s okay, he’s not there anymore, Steven,” he had spoken aloud before he could even register it fully, his voice oddly low and surprisingly deep, so not-his. He knitted his brows as the comforting words hit his ears, still he jerked against his own will, coughed as if to clear his throat, then added, “he’s gone.”

“He’s gone,” he muttered under his heavy breath, already standing in front of door number 502. Blinked away a lonely tear forming in his left eye, took two or three deep inhales before unlocking the entrance to the safety of his own apartment.

Despite weather outside quite literally blinding him with sunlight, that pyramide-shaped studio of his welcomed him with an eternal shadow and raw chill keeping the mess of books and other shenanigans somehow hidden in the background. Even the warmest, brightest of colors got washed away by how dark it was there. Locked out from reality, toned down to plain shades without even a speck of uniqueness, boring. Funny, how even his own place was designed to keep him reduced to an old item, covered in dust, insignificant, forgotten; how it refused to let him shine, show off all the things that could make him special in one’s eyes. Steven lowered his chin at that sudden realization, momentarily aware of how tiny his whole existence was.

“All those windows, and I still am going to get bloody cleaned out when the bills come this month,” he burbled silently, gently placing his messenger bag on the nearest table. Perked up when in the corner of his eye he noticed a lifeless silhouette splayed carelessly in an old lounge chair Steven had found recently at a second hand store.

Clothed in one of Steven’s plain sleeping shirts with a tiny hole right under its collar, as well as the same pair of trousers Steven had been seeing him this past week, was laying Jake, with his head leaned slightly against the backrest, his arms crossed on his chest as if he was trying to protect crucial organs from a sudden attack, and his legs bent in knees so his bare feet could fit in the seat.

Steven let the corners of his lips pull up to a ghost of a gentle smile at that sight, already on his way across the living room area in search of some thick blanket. His every move was almost echoing in the dead silence the flat was drowned into, too loud, too notable, too pretentious for this quiet room in which was a man, a clearly exhausted man, trying to sleep all of his worries away. Having found the perfect soft blanket, Steven stopped in his tracks with arms hanging above the sleeping figure, and for a moment he just looked. Jake looked sick, that much was obvious to him; normally olive tone of their skin resolved to pale paper-thinness, with bluish veins sticking out on his palms and arms, his shoulders seemed painfully stiff as he kept his guard up even when unconscious, and his whole body radiated pure malaise. A flat hat was sitting in Steven’s way to see Jake’s face fully, but even with additional shadow it was casting over that face, the Britishman could easily point out dark circles under his companion’s eyes, and he hated them as much as he’d hated his own during his worst days. His whole posture was drained of life in the most terrible way imaginable for an alive person, he looked so horribly tired, it got Steven thinking he had never in his entire life wanted to hug anybody more than right in that very moment, looking down at a fragile form of his mirror image.

Grievous blend of warmth and ache sent a shiver down his spine, filling his ears with the sound of sandstorm the moment he wrapped the blanket around the weak body and saw Jake intuitively moved just the slightest, nuzzling his nose into the soft light-green fabric. Such a simple thing somehow managed to toss Steven’s heart down to his stomach, causing him to gasp like he’s been just caught red-handed doing something he wasn’t supposed to. For a few seconds he became completely still, just staring at the helpless man curled up in a chair. Couldn’t really stop himself from gracing Jake’s half-hidden face with the lightest of touch, his knuckles barely brushing over the dehydrated skin in the bottom of his cheek, sliding to his jaw with not more than just one finger.

Steven bit his lower lip, then looked around until his eyes fell on an open book laying at the top of a pile, on the coffee table near them. In one swift movement he reached for the book, at the same time gripping with his other hand at an armrest of a wooden simple chair, literally tightening his eyes and wrinkling his nose while slowly moving the piece of furniture closer to the other’s man lounger the quietest he physically could, even holding his breath during the whole process, afraid to wake him up with his clumsiness.

In complete silence, he sat down in his chair, tentatively slid down a little bit, so his head could lean against the backrest in a cheap mimicry of Jake’s position, crossed his legs just the way he preferred, and smeared the book’s random page with his fingertips with the same affection he poured into the touch he’d given the man sleeping beside him.

There was a smile tugging at his lips.

“Sleep well, Jake,” he whispered into the air between them, barely audible but still there, marking the loose atmosphere locked in the grip of a moment. After that, he focused on words written in a small font, a little too small for his sight, but that was okay- he couldn’t really lose himself in the story, anyway, due to a perfect symphony of gentle breathing gracing his ears, flowing down the skin of his arms in the form of light shudders. How could he turn his senses off and block all external stimuli in favor of a book he probably had read two or three times already, even if he’d skipped the ending, when something so pretty in its grace was right there, allowing him to be the only witness? He didn’t even feel bad for stealing shameless gazes.

As it turned out, though, he wouldn’t even have gotten a chance to read in peace if he’d wanted to, because the clock in the kitchen didn’t even manage to count out more than ten minutes before Steven heard rustling on his right, right where Jake was situated in his chair. The smile on Steven’s face widened.

“Well, lookie here. Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he chirped cheerfully, but immediately winced, shrinking within himself, when Jake - once again in his presence - flinched at the greeting, with his hands automatically clenching into fists under the blanket. “Sorry, didn’t mean to shook you,” he apologized right away. If it hadn’t been for the way he’d lowered his head, ready for a scold, he could’ve noticed a set of brows furrowed in confusion, rather than anger, though.

Jake blinked at him once, twice. Glanced at the light-green blanket that had brought him a little bit of comfort and soothed backache he’d guaranteed himself by falling asleep in one of the worst poses possible, only once prior to looking back up to the face of a broken man sitting beside him.

Then grunted. It was firm, it sounded aggressive, but in reality, he only cleared his throat. That was sort of a Jake thing to do, a sudden realization appeared among conflicted thoughts in the mess called Steven Grant’s mind. Doing the most mundane things, he left the impression of being the toughest one in the room.

“Honestly, mate, it wasn’t, uh, I did-”

“Gracias.” With that one word, Jake interrupted Steven mid-sentence. The tone of his voice was strong, commanding even, but it also held something Steven hadn’t been expecting - a sense of security. They way he said it, it was as if some higher powers poured the sweetest and stickiest honey all over the inner acrimony.

Steven peered up at him again, faint blush spread across his cheeks while the soft brown of his irises growed sprinkled with brightness that only added another dimension to his already captivating eyes. He nodded, seeing Jake point at the blanket, so he could understand better what he’d had in mind.

“So, pardon if I’m being nosy or something, yeah, but I- I could help but notice you had barely eaten anything ever since we’d arrived from this madhouse of the Ammit hell on Earth,” Londoner remarked shily, with his arm reaching behind his head to scratch his nape there as he was speaking. “And, if I’m being honest, what you ate was rubbish, mate. Like, it physically pained me to be witnessing this horror,” he added, this time more confident in his insights.

Jake huffed at that. “No era tan-”

“Lemme stop you right there, yeah?” It was Steven’s turn to interrupt, and he did it with his finger raised suggestively. “No clue what excuse you were trying to make there, and frankly, I don’t give a monkey’s. I literally saw you eating my vegan sushi I made before Marc took us to freaking Egypt, there’s nothing you can say to make up for it, and believe me when I tell you it’s going to hunt me in my nightmares. You ate rice that could’ve been used for saké, Jake.”

When Steven was finished, he was almost visibly fuming at Jake, who - as if on cue - jerked suddenly, having felt a bile rising to his throat. He barely held it back, but still somehow managed to swallow it right back, so the only issue left for him to deal with was an excessive amount of saliva accumulating in his mouth. Steven, of course, didn’t let it slide.

“Yeah, that’s exactly how I feel every time it crosses my mind,” he rebuked, sighing heavily. “It happened a few days ago, though, so I take it you, once again, haven’t eaten anything ever since then, am I right?”

Generally, Steven’s apartment was quite cold, hence why Steven often got the flu. Jake usually tried to avoid it, either by making sure Steven wore warm clothes, or increasing temperature to a bearable level, and then sliding a few notes to Steven’s wallet, so the man didn’t have to worry about the bills. Nonetheless, the apartment tended to be cold. For some reason, though, right then Jake felt his cheeks burning with heat that certainly hadn’t been there before, and it had him toss the blanket away, almost suffocating. It was a shame eating at him, he knew. And Steven must’ve known, too, because he just stood up, shaking his head with disapproval.

However, he was back from the kitchen before Jake could swallow the rising bile down for the third time in a row. Hated that feeling, but couldn’t actually say he wasn’t used to swallowing much worse liquids than that, so it was fine, really. For him, definitely not for Steven, that much he could easily read off of the Englishman’s face. And, additionally, from some amazing smell that hit his nostrils as soon as Steven crouched down on the floor right ahead of him. Jake barely kept his eyes open when put in the spotlight like that. Discomfort crept its way up his head under his skin, and it took all his willpower not to let it show, so his companion wouldn’t have to worry.

“I made us burritos in the morning, hoped you’d eat it by the time I came back home, but…” Grant purposely paused to give Jake a few seconds to fill the gap himself, then he finished what he meant to say, so it wouldn’t go unsaid out loud, “Suppose you inherited the death wish from Marc.” Jake only glared at him, though there wasn’t a single bad intention behind that, he just didn’t know how to respond to such accusation, especially when they both knew there wasn’t really a way out of this one for him. He sighed, and Steven replied with a smile the other deemed cheeky, before the mentioned burrito was pushed into his palms.

“I made kimchi on my own, since the ones at stores are based on seafood, so… You know, it’s a no no for me. Hope you like it,” at that, Steven’s smile turned shy, and Jake quickly came to the conclusion the previous kind of smile suited Steven more. He didn’t comment on it, instead, he gave the burrito in his hands an unsure look, mainly because hunger had made him a little bit too sensitive to the concept of food itself, hence the bite he took was tiny, and the movement was so slow, he could see how self-doubt was entering Steven’s system seeing him do so. “If-if you don’t, which is perfectly fine by me,” it wasn’t, Jake knew, “I also have, well, bread and some other stuff in me fridge, I can make you sandwiches. Or, or we can order pizza, even. I just-just thought that-”

“Kimchi?” Jake queried, not an ounce of regret for interrupting Steven this time, knowing full well the Londoner was already in his head. And fortunately, he got the response he was counting on, with Steven gaping up at him again, instead of directing his sight at everything and anything but him out of embarrassment, before letting himself info dump the curious man that Jake sometimes was. “‘s not a poison, so you can veg-out, yeah?” he replied, another shy smile graced his face for Jake to appreciate. “It’s just cabbage with some wicked ingredients that truly make it taste bomb. You like it?” There was about a ton equivalent of hope, both in the tone of his voice and on his entire face when he asked that, and how could Jake give him a negative response to that question? It was impossible, even if the burrito was the worst thing he had ever put in his mouth willingly. Which wasn’t the case at all. Jake chewed at it for a second or two, then swallowed.

He hummed, and Steven pouted at that.

“Dulce,” he replied with, and chuckled briefly when Steven rolled his eyes, visibly getting irritated, then swiftly corrected himself with, “sweet. Why is it sweet? Cabbage isn’t sweet, is it?”

“Oh!” They both flinched at Steven’s unexpected exclamation. Grant smiled apologetically. “So you do know English. You got me worried for a second, cuz I can’t say a word in Spanish to safe my arse, yeah, and I’d like to talk to you more, now that I know you exist, but I- it wou- ogh, I guess I could try with phrasebooks, right? It would take ages, though, to actually chat even about some codswallops like weather and all that” he half-said, half-chucked it all, and Jake didn’t have to ponder too long to decide he liked the sound of it. “Thank fuck you know English, seriously, mate. Woulda been easier with French, as I know a little bit of it, but Spanish… Oh, great heavens-” “Steven,” this time, Jake hated the fact he had to interrupt. He hated those mood swings if you asked him, but sometimes, he noticed, Steven had a tendency to blow hot air when asked about something. Like right then, dragging the subject far too far when there wasn’t need for it. Hence, Jake snapped his fingers to catch the other one’s focus. “Kimchi. Sweet. Why?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he replied, already lowering his head in embarrassment, which put a wince on Jake’s face. Mood swings, horrible stuff.

“Don’t be.” Was the only response, but Jake smiled at him in an encouraging manner, then nodded for him to continue, so Steven did.

“Apple,” he stated as if it was obvious. Giggled at the man sitting in an armchair after noticing pure confusion dancing around his rough features. “I added some apples to break through the spiciness of onions, ginger and gochugaru paste, which is basically a fermented hot pepper. You like it?” he asked once again, a slight sign of impatience shining throughout his curious facade.

Jake sighed at that, then took another bite, this time much bigger, earning Steven’s huff with that. It was nice, he had to admit, to be able to tease the other man; to finally be seen after all those years of living in the shadows, doing everything he could not to make his presence known. A little bit overwhelming at times, but overall nice. He nodded slowly.

“I like it. Mucho”

“Well, of course you do,” Steven mocked, a frivolous laugh ripping from his throat before he could even finish what he’d started, “it’s basically spoiled food, lad. Right up your alley.”

Jake leaned against the backrest more comfortably, the light-green blanket suddenly landed on Steven’s head, and he watched the Londoner getting all riled up while he himself focused completely on enjoying his burrito.

It was nice.

⁺₊⋆˖⁺‧₊ ☽ ◯ ☾ ₊‧⁺˖⋆⁺₊

The way Steven had lowered his head, ready for a scold, was the only thing he had before his eyes, drilled into the brain of his as he was straddling his target tight, golden crescent darts shining beautifully when raised in several sweeps before being pushed right back into the bleeding chest. The way Steven had huddled up tore once or two grunts from his throat, hyping him even more to hit onejhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnvfffffffffffffffb

that human trafficker one more time, two more times, harder, deeper, cutting through ribs smoothly like in a soft butter. The darts were sharp on all sides, designed for throwing rather than close-quarter combat, but that was fine, he could deal with that kind of pain, he wanted to feel the skin on his palms break with every strike. He simply couldn’t really stop himself from wishing for that belt Wendy had used on them also had been sharp on all sides, not just the one that marked their skin, so she could have felt the same pain, could have faced the same troubles hiding cuts and bruises under itchy clothes, could have know what it had felt like to hurt repeatedly to the point of screaming, fainting even. Maybe then he wouldn’t have been here, achingly aware of contemptuous thoughts Marc had of him, of untrustful looks he had sent him the day he had decided to try and live a normal life without them, without him. Although he knew it, his heart still was Marc’s place, despite aching days and gray lonely nights.

“Enough.” Voice holding the weight of whole centuries of serving vengeance rumbled loudly, whether for everyone to hear, or only in his insignificant head, he didn’t really care. One of his hands stilled, holding what remained of his target’s throat, the other stopped mid-way down to what was left of his ribcage, golden dart catching the warm light of a nearby lantern.

“Yes, Netjer.” The Moon Knight bowed his head obediently. Yet, he struck one last blow, right to the shreds of his target’s lungs. Awful stench of blood mixed with vomit penetrated every remnant of fresh air around him, even his mask was useless at that moment, yielding to it, letting it poison him slowly, ruthlessly.

“You have proven yourself as my avatar once again, Jake Lockley.”

“Thank you, Netjer.” With those words, he lazily dragged one of the darts across his target’s cheek, carving a crescent moon in skin purely for a little bit of fun.

“You are now dismissed. You did well.”

“Thank you, Netjer,” he repeated, the tone of his voice exhausted but grateful.

He took his time getting up, swayed dangerously mid-way, to then trip over the definitely dead body, too busy glaring at torn bandages on his palms, stained with dark blood from already healed wounds, left with silvery white scars only. He sniffled, brushed nonexistent dust off his suit, and blinked multiple times in a weak attempt to focus on the exit of the dark alleyway, back to his car. Moon Knight suit unhurriedly, as if to mock him, unwrapping, giving way back to his normal clothes that consisted of Steven’s sleeping shirt, some old pants he didn’t even remember getting, and his favorite faux leather jacket Marc had purchased almost a decade ago.

He got in his car with a single grunt, recited the only prayer he actually knew to ensure a safe ride back to Steven’s flat, and eventually started the engine.

He wanted nothing more than to be at home already, Steven’s home, perhaps also Marc’s home, if he could dare to admit it without consequences. He wouldn’t dare to call it his home, too, though. That was a forbidden fantasy. That was his pain threshold.

⁺₊⋆˖⁺‧₊ ☽ ◯ ☾ ₊‧⁺˖⋆⁺₊

Darkness welcomed him about forty five minutes later as he crossed the threshold of Steven’s apartment. Nothing new, he thought to himself, it was basically this place’s characteristic at this point. 09P —---p

Eternally nestled in the shadows, such a familiar feeling. Who would’ve thought he would find a place so perfect for him, yet so not intended for him. The most painful paradox.

In this darkness, though, there was a single, small source of light in the form of a reading lamp laying abandoned on the bed, right next to a sleeping silhouette buried in thick bed sheets. As Jake walked up to the bed, he could hear panting, and there was a thin layer of sweat shining on the skin of Steven’s calm face, all the way down to his chest. He looked as if he was suffering the slightest bit, with the way his chest was heaving like a stormy sea at night, and with how tense he seemed to be, even though his eyes weren’t tightened, and he wasn’t tossing around. Strange mixture of signs that could only mean one thing, and one thing only. Jake let out a resigned sigh when he came to that realization, shook his head as he leaned forward to carefully, doing his best not to wake Steven up from his slumber, untangle his limp body from the too thick bedding. When he did that, a sight he’d been expecting was revealed to him - Marc’s precious Steven, the innocent alter, the british angel and the cheekiest little piece of shit of the three of them, the grown-up man, contrary to his clothing habits during the day, was drowned in layers over layers of different fabrics; from his standard pyjamas, so a t-shirt and a pair of thin pants, to a thick cardigan and his winter socks, to a velour dressing gown with the hood thrown over dark curls that had lost their volume due to caging them like that and letting them get soaked with sweat, to the cursed bedding, way too thick for Steven’s own good in a season like late spring and early summer.

Steven breathed freely at the new sensation of being freed from the tropical hell he cooked for himself, visibly relieved then. Cool hand pressed to his forehead to comb a few damp strands back, and Grant unconsciously chased after it when Jake pulled it away, causing him a ghost of a smile to tug at the corners of his lips.

Then he sat on the floor by the side of the bed, making sure the other wouldn’t pull the bedsheets back on himself in his sleep, because he was already dressed thick enough for a night without any blankets, that was for sure. The one awake barely held a grunt back at the glimpse of another pair of socks protruding from underneath the winter ones; he looked up to the ceiling for a second or two, his mouth clamped in a thin line, an enormous amount of air being let out through his nose - all that prior to reaching, with great resignation, to the british man's feet to then take his winter socks off. After that, he pressed his back into the bedside, exhaled with fatigue even greater than any other negative feeling that was ruining him from within at that moment, and leaned his heavy head against the mattress, more than ready to drift off into the land of Morpheus at last, when something behind him stirred, momentarily bringing him back to the world of the living.

“Mira eso” Jake muttered under his breath. “Buenas noches, La Bella Durmiente,” he added mockingly, hoping Steven would somehow dig out the playful tone from underneath the exhaustion. Luckily for him, Steven seemed sober enough to catch that joke, judging by the light movement of his arm across the mattress, nearing Jake’s head.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Steven complained, and Jake couldn’t really help but huff at his offended voice. “Where were you?” he asked then, at which the other sighed.

“At work,” he replied, glancing in the direction of his own palms, pretending he could see, aside from feeling, all those fresh scars he’d decorated the insides of his hands with. Pondering how he would explain them to Steven, when the other man would notice. If, also. “I’m a cabbie,” he beat him to it in explaining his career path before the Londoner could’ve asked. A hum was then heard, filling the silent space between the two of them. A question was trying to squeeze itself in there, too, Jake could feel it in his veins. And he was right, he quickly discovered, right after Steven exhaled heavily.

“Would it be okay if I touched you, Jake?” There was an unpleasant hesitation crawling under the tone of Steven’s voice, so small, so quiet, barely audible, yet betraying a sense of desperation.

He didn’t answer, only nodded slightly, but that was enough for the other man to gently brush his knuckles over the side of his neck, up into his hair, fingers straightening on the way. They were gone sooner than they arrived, though - vanishing in the exact moment Jake allowed himself to indulge in that touch, with his eyes shut and breathing steady. He opened his mouth to ask for the fingers back, but then he felt them being replaced with something thin, metal, creating an enlarging circle, and so so good, it almost ripped a pleasant purr out of him.The circle shrinked in a matter of second, only to enlarge again, and again, sending the good kind of shivers down his whole body, like and electric stimuli running through all of his nerve endings on his scalp. He had to admit, fortunately only to himself, that it felt amazing, that it felt like nothing he had ever felt before, and he was glad Steven didn’t want him to form a cohesive opinion on that, because he doubted he had the right words in his dictionary to fully express how much he liked that feeling.

“I just- I…” Steven hinted something, but paused mid-sentence, and Jake could sense the same embarrassment he had already seen in the other’s graceful form earlier that day. The one sitting on the floor sighed encouragingly, begging in silence for him to stop feeling so ashamed in front of him; he was only Jake, at last, there was nothing to be ashamed of there. If anything, Jake was the one who should be ashamed. “... had this weird feeling that you’re hurt. Couldn’t shake it off no matter how hard I tried. Sounds silly, I know, I’m sorry,” he finished, and it left Jake breathless for a minute. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, though, it felt right, felt like a much needed time to gather their entangled thoughts and to put them into the right words- something they both sometimes needed help with, needed support. That was the aspect of their personalities that clicked just right with one another, Jake had realized it a long time ago, and it seemed Steven was starting to realize it, too. Such a clever man he was, that went without any doubt.

“Yeah,” Jake said eventually, still completely lost in that crazy sensation Steven was granting him, “could feel you were feeling scared.”

“I’m glad you’re home now. That’s all that really matters.”

Jake didn’t answer. He wasn’t in a mood to lie any more than he had already lied, so he didn’t say anything. What could he say to that, honestly? That whole sentence was false.

Steven wasn’t truly glad.

This wasn’t Jake’s home.

Nothing about Jake really mattered.

“You hungry..?” his voice was so weak when he asked that question, so sleepy, so tired, Jake almost pitied him. Still, he let out an even weaker chuckle when he heard it. And then Steven chuckled as well, equally exhausted. It was nice.

“No, Steven, I am not,” Jake responded, barely able to let out a real voice. He felt like he was floating, the feeling amplified by the other’s ministrations.

“I’m just sayin’. Don’t come to me tomorrow, complaining of nausea first thing in the morning.” There was a spark of a fight in the way Steven said it, Jake noticed. But, he also noticed the way Steven’s hand stopped massaging his scalp, so he had to be the one waving a white flag between the two of them.

He shook his head gently, still feeling the thin metal circle in his hair. Sighed one last time, in an unexpected harmony with the man laying in bed behind him. This was also nice.

“Duerme tranquilo, Stevie.”

#silver rings and sundried tomatoes #moon knight fic #steven grant x jake lockley

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bunxxy · 2 years ago

Text

Record

Doyoung x idol!reader

Genre: Angst and Fluff

Warnings: suggestive and cursing.

W/C: 1.4k

It’s been an odd few months.

A tv series decided to ask you and Doyoung if they could record both of you guys day to day lives as idols. This meant that there would be camera set all around your shared house except for the bathroom.

At first, it was very uncomfortable. You were so used to walking around naked, you completely forgot that there were cameras. Which caused you to dash back into the bathroom when you finally remembered. It was embarrassing. You didn’t want to leave the bathroom again even after you put on your towel.

It wasn’t easy for Doyoung either. He loved touching you. A lot. Especially since you both were busy with training and performances, he wants to touch you any chance that he gets. He also wants to fuck you any chance that he gets. He would grab your ass, kiss your neck, put you on the counter with your legs spread to dive right for your pussy and each time you would say “Doyoung, the camera!“

“Doyoung, stop!”

You would motion to the camera with wide eyes, “Remember?”

And each time he would sulk. Of course you would too. You miss making love to your boyfriend.

Which is why he decided to say fuck the cameras. He gave the camera in your shared bedroom and mischievous smile and simply said, “Sorry.” Then fucked the daylight out of you.

The next week, you’re cooking dinner. Your favorite nct song is playing in the background and you can’t help but mock Doyoungs beautiful vocals in the most foolish way. As your chopping the vegetables, your stomach starts to get queasy. Your face scrunches up in pain and you run to the bathroom to throw up.

“What.. the hell” you pant as you grip the toilet bowl. You recall everything that you’ve eaten yesterday. There wasn’t anything that you don’t eat on a daily basis. You flush the toilet and slowly get up to brush your teeth, trying to think of any possibility for you throwing up. Your stomach drops at the one possibility that adds up the most.

“No..” you think.

You quickly spit into the sink. Then rummage through the drawers. You pull out a pregnancy test, setting it on the counter.

You pace back and forth, scratching your head aggressively. “This can’t be… right?”

You sigh deeply, “No.. no …no”

You bite your lip then proceed to use the test. After you’re done, you slam it back on the counter then take a seat on the closed toilet seat. Your leg bounces uncontrollably as you wait impatiently.

Fifteen minutes on your phone alarm pass and you quickly get up to view the test.

It’s positive.

You feel your whole world crashing down.

“No..n-no no no”.

Tears well up in your eyes, your body shakes as you cover your eyes.

Loud sobs can be heard as Doyoung walks into the apartment after a long day of training. “Y/N?!” He yells, running towards the sound of your cries. He gets to the bathroom and knocks loudly on the door, “Baby, are you okay?”

The sound of his voice makes you sob more. You fall to your knees, weeping loudly. This could ruin his career- you’re both so young. You don’t know how he would react. You’re afraid he would reject you or leave you.

“Baby, please open the door!” He says desperately. He’s afraid the worst has happened to you. He slams the side of his body against the door, soon opening it causing the door to slam against the wall.

“Y/N!” He runs to you, engulfing you in his eyes. The sight of you tears him apart. “Tell me what happened”

More tears fall out of your eyes, “I- I” you can barely speak through your cries. He looks around the bathroom trying to find the cause of your pain. Soon his eyes lay on the pregnancy test. He grabs it and examines it closely. His eyes widen when he sees the positive sign, “Y-you’re pregnant…?”

Your fingers dig into your face as you weep. You can only nod your head.

You feel his body leave yours then you hear… laughing?

You lift your head up, confused from his reaction. He’s beaming with joy. He runs to the closest camera in the hallway and waves the pregnancy test. “We’re having a baby!” He hollers then running in place and dancing. He runs back to you, giving you a huge bear hug nearly knocking you over. “We’re having a baby…” he drew out, looking at you longingly. Blush creeps onto your cheeks and you nod slowly. “But… your caree-“

“Babe, I love you so much. I care so much about you. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. Of course I would want your baby” his thumb wipes a fallen tear off your cheek. He lifts you off of the floor and walks you to the couch. He touches your stomach before giggling like a child. “I’ll be back” he runs off to the bedroom, leaving you in the living room. You’re nervous but excited to have a child. You don’t know if you’re gonna be a good mother. You know nothing about motherhood. This is so new to you. You smile to yourself remembering Doyoungs reaction. He’s really the love of your life.

“Y/N…” you look up and quickly cover your mouth, astonished. Doyoung is on one knee, holding up a small velvet box with a beautiful ring with your birthstone and tiny diamonds on it.

“This isn’t as romantic as I would have liked it to be… but.. I couldn’t wait. You’re truly my everything. You’re why I get up everyday, why I smile” At this point tears are falling down your cheeks once again.

“Y/N…” he lets out a deep breath, “L/N Y/N… will you marry me?” You let out a whimper and nod yes aggressively.

“Yes baby yes” you fall into his arms and grip his tshirt.

“I love you” he whispers before pulling you in for a kiss. You pull away giggling, “I love you too.”

Two months later, you both told your companies what happened. They didn’t mind- after all they expected it to happen. You told your group members and they were ecstatic. Some even cried tears of joy, causing you to cry.

When Doyoung told his members, they all jumped on him, congratulated, and teased him. They expected one of the other members to get their girlfriends pregnant before him.

Your fans have been worried about why you haven’t been performing the way you used to. You looked tired just by dancing a little compared to before. Some of your fans even speculated you were pregnant but no one wanted to believe them. Their worries heightened when you were 5 months pregnant and were on hiatus. The production team in charge of filming you both asked permission to air you finding out your pregnant and Doyoung proposing. Even though the thought of millions of people seeing you bawl your eyes out in the most ugliest way possible embarrasses you, you agreed.

6 months pregnant, the show finally airs and it blows up. It’s a funny and unconventional way to tell people that you are in fact pregnant and you and Doyoung are engaged. All of your fans lost their mines. Of course some were extremely upset their kpop husband is getting married and has sex with someone who isn’t them. But most of them were happy. You were happy.

Currently, you are on the couch with Doyoung leaning against you and rubbing your stomach, watching the episode. You both laugh as Doyoung runs up to the camera making the most goofiest face. “I could watch this all day” you say in between laughs. He chuckles, looking at your stomach. You smile watching him do so. “She’s getting so big” he says softly. Your heart flutters. You rest your hand over top of his. The ring glistens in the light. He pauses the tv then sings for your baby. He’s has been singing the same song every night ever since your baby bump has gotten bigger. And each time, like now, the baby moves. It makes his heart race. He looks at you as if he’s going to cry. You can’t help but giggle and lean in for a kiss.

#xxfics #nct 127 scenarios #fanfic #nct127 #doyoung x reader #doyoung fluff #doyoung angst #nct angst #nct fluff

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vermillionmars · 3 years ago

Text

YOU CAN'T HIDE — !!

yandere! funtime freddy x reader

cw/tw ; yandere, sadism, blood, strangulation, cutting skin idk, ooc ( ? ), manipulation ( ? )

a/n ; i have had this in my head for a week...please don't judge me...also this is rly bad ik, i just had to get it out of my system before i exploded / lost all interest and motivation to write lol, i can't write bloody scenes v well sadly. also baby is probably ooc idk im not going to rewatch sl gameplay for this lol

“ — YOU CAN RUN, YOU CAN'T HIDE ! ”

❝ Bring you down here, in the dead of night. Keep you working, try to survive. We are secretly watching you, too. Trying our best to get at you. Run. ❞

Steady your breathing. Keep calm, don't make a sound. Hide yourself from his view, make sure you're invisible. Don't let him know where you are, don't let him find you. These were all things you told yourself, over and over again. They were meant to reassure yourself, to provide yourself some momentary comfort.

They worked, but only for a few minutes. Because just as soon as you'd convinced yourself you were safe, you heard that familiar, glitchy voice. Funtime Freddy was broken, in desperate need of repairs, but no one really stepped up to fix him. It wasn't that it was an impossible task—anyone with experience could repair him in a jiffy—it was that most people were scared of him. And rightfully so, considering you cowered in fear from simply hearing his footsteps.

You were naive to think you would be different from previous mechanics. It's just a robot, you told yourself. You can do this. But you, quite clearly, couldn't. The night started off well. You did as the Handunit told you, performing your duties like a good employee. But then came the task of fixing Freddy. The Handunit was of no help to you right now, it was ominously silent, like it had no clue what you were intended to do, or it hadn't noticed anything went wrong.

Or maybe it simply didn't care. Maybe it expected you to fend for yourself. You were the one who took the job offer, after all. You were responsible for your own actions and if you put yourself at risk of getting murdered by some children's animatronic, then the company wasn't responsible whatsoever. Circus Baby's Pizza World was, under no means, responsible for any injuries caused to you, regardless of whether or not those injuries came from their animatronics.

So you were hopeless, pretty much.

❝ You can run, you can't hide. We'll always seek, we'll always find. You can run, but you can't hide. We'll always seek, we'll always find. ❞

Oh, but you couldn't be blamed for being frightened by the large robot. Whose bright idea was it to make these things six feet tall? And not to mention the faceplates that opened up to reveal their freaky endoskeletons...Jesus, wasn't this enough to give kids nightmares?

Maybe the animatronics weren't so scary in the daylight. But in the dead of night, deep underground, they (specifically Funtime Freddy) shook you to your core. Maybe you were just a coward.

But you weren't willing to quit this job because of your cowardice. You had to survive this, to make it through the week. Then you could collect your paycheck and leave. You could go home, watch that trashy soap opera that kept playing on your T.V. seemingly on loop, and never think of this place again.

No Circus Baby, no Ballora, no Funtime Foxy, no Funtime Freddy. Just you, The Immortal and the Restless, and your lovely bowl of popcorn. It was just a few more nights, in the grand scheme of things. It might've seemed like longer to you, but it really wasn't that bad!

A loud, metallic clank changed your tune quickly. You took it back, this was horrible. You couldn't go another night stuck with these robots.

❝ You can run, you can try. You can run, but you can't hide. You can run, you can try. You can run, but you can't hide. ❞

You tried to think of happy things. Your paycheck, your compensation for surviving this job. Your friends, the ones who had been worried sick when you told them you'd be working here. Your parents, who urged you not to take the job at the place with a history of child murder. Your—

It was no use. No matter what you tried to get your brain to focus on, all it could think of was the situation you were currently in. It was either that or flashbacks to moments prior to this, and you honestly couldn't tell which was worse.

What led up to this...oh yeah, your job to fix Funtime Freddy. In all your hiding from him, you had almost forgotten that was why he was seeking you out. It was part of your job to repair him, and you had come here with every intention to do so.

He was supposed to be powered down. The Handunit told you so. He wasn't. He was faking it, you could tell. But you couldn't do anything about it, so with shaking hands you began pressing against the small buttons on his face. There wasn't much movement at first, a slight twitch here and there as you poked and prodded.

When his faceplates successfully opened, however, he quit his deactivated act. You screamed embarrassingly loudly when he jumped at you. Scrambling around the room, you gripped onto any surface you could find to steady yourself.

From there, your night quickly deescalated into madness. It was an endless cycle of squeezing yourself into crevices and tight spots and then changing your spot as soon as you heard the robotic bear, and the both of you were growing weary of it. You were tired, exhausted from all the running and hiding. Funtime Freddy was...well, you couldn't know his emotions (if he had any) because you weren't him, but you could guess he was growing more and more agitated.

You held your breath as you heard him make another step.

❝ They're laughing while finding. I'm hiding, I'm trying. I feel like she's lying, I feel like I'm dying. She's guiding me quietly, instructing me blindly, afraid of what might be. I feel like I'm dying. Hide. ❞

"You seem to be in quite the predicament."

A voice resonated through your mind. You recognized it, of course. It belonged to Circus Baby, the ringleader of this animatronic circus. She had spoken to you on your first night, but hadn't said anything else after that. You weren't quite sure how she was talking to you, because she wasn't present in the room or anywhere close, and Freddy didn't seem to hear her. Though, you weren't going to question it.

"Don't worry, I'm here to help you."

You didn't believe her, but what other choice did you have? You nodded, unsure if she could see your motions or not. She appeared to be able to, oddly, as she replied quickly after.

"Good. All you have to do is listen to me, and you should be safe." You caught onto the ‘should’ rather fast.

'Should?' You parroted back. She hummed softly, clearly not as concerned as you were.

"Yes, should," she paused. "I’d like to believe I have a good grasp on the mindsets and thought processes of my coworkers, however, I cannot guarantee your safety. Funtime Freddy is unpredictable at times—he is erratic and acts on his emotions. So, I can only hypothesize the best possible outcome and how to get there. If you’re worried by my uncertainty, you’re free to go about this your own way, I will not stop you. Just don’t blame me when your organs are rearranged."

She said all of that so calmly, it unnerved you. Regardless, you accepted her offer. 'Why do you even want to help me?' You asked in your head.

"It’s really none of your business. If you wish to know, however, I need you. Not you specifically, of course, anyone would do, really—so if you die, it’s not that big of a loss. I would just prefer not having to wait for the next unfortunate soul to make their way down here."

You were too confused to ask anything else, which Baby seemed pleased about. A bang startled you into remembering Funtime Freddy was still here. "Relax," Baby began. "Do you see Bon-Bon?"

If your memory was correct, Bon-Bon was the puppet attached to Freddy.

"You're correct. The bunny has a mind of its own. He and Freddy are...friends, I suppose. It is perhaps the only thing that can calm him down. So, use it to your advantage. If you can convince it to help you without alerting Freddy—don't ask, I don't know how to accomplish that either—or can convince it you already left the room, you'll be safe. Freddy will listen."

You gulped. Okay, so planning time…Baby's idea was far too risky, you deemed. You couldn't get to Bon-Bon without getting to Funtime Freddy, so that was off the table. You needed something else…You glanced at the door briefly. There was little chance you could open the door without being followed, but…maybe that’s what you wanted.

❝ I hear a sound… (It's prolly just a mouse!) I see them in the dark... (I only saw a spark!) I know there's someone there… (Not as far as I'm aware!) Why don't you believe me? ❞

You zipped across the room. As you were no longer being sneaky, Freddy’s eye caught sight of your form instantly. He laughed to his puppet pal.

"You saw that, r-ri-right, Bon-Bon?"

The little rabbit placed a plush hand against his cheek. He looked contemplative, as if determining whether what he saw was a human or something else. "It’s probably just a mouse, Freddy. You know how they are, and with the cold weather they’re probably desperate for warmth—"

"N-no, Bon-Bon, I swe-ea-r! They were here e-earlier to make repa-air-airs, I doubt they’ve l-l-eft yet!"

"Freddy, I think you should let it go. There’s always next time."

"There won’t b-be a next time-e, Bon-Bon!" Whether that was in reference to the coming end of the week (and therefore your job) or in reference to his plans on killing you, you weren’t sure. It could’ve very well been either, or even both. It was hard to tell with these freaks.

Nevertheless, his distraction allowed you to reach the door. You made sure to be as loud as possible as you twisted the doorknob. It opened with a long creak and the path to the Funtime Auditorium opened up. Freddy perked up at the sudden sound. You shuffled back to a hiding spot.

"Birthday k-kid!" It wasn’t your birthday, and you weren’t a kid either, but you had learned this was just a part of his programming. His feet stomped, shaking the floor and you. He chuckled, probably calling you ignorant and stupid in hushed whispers to his puppet. You could care less what he said about you.

❝ Maybe you're right… (It's just another night!) But I heard a creak… (Just go back to sleep!) I'm always quick to rage… (So go back to your stage! Wait...Now I hear it...) Run. ❞

"Making your own plan, are you?" Baby chided. "I thought I said to make use of the Bonnie puppet. But if this is your course of action, I suppose I can't stop you. Good luck…" What did she...mean by that?

Funtime Freddy made his way into the Funtime Auditorium slowly, torturously. You just wanted him gone already so you could lock him out of Parts and Services and you could stay in the room for the rest of the night. Finally, his feet came in contact with the flooring, and he was fully in the room.

You were quick to approach the door. You fumbled around and locked it, then paused. You breathed in deeply, then shut it with as much force as physically possible, slamming it and possibly partly breaking it off its hinges.

You could no longer hear Circus Baby. She wasn’t talking…why? Did that mean you were safe, if she was no longer guiding you? Or did it mean—

Cold, metallic hands (paws?) clamped down on your shoulders. They pressed into your skin through the polyester work uniform. Oh, so that was why.

❝ What's that sound? I know someone's there, hiding in the shadows, thinking I was unaware! Who's that I see? The birthday boy-to-be! Let's invite him over, hurry up before he's bolder! ❞

You were too scared to look him in the eyes. Freddy didn't mind. He just dug his hands further into you. Neither of you spoke, the silence was engulfing.

"Surprise! I fo-ound you," Freddy said, breaking the silence. It was odd to hear him speak directly to you—all this time, he had just been making comments to himself or calling out to you, as he wasn't close enough to get his hands on you and actually say anything. "Ch-ee-er up, birthday kid! We're your f-friend-s!"

You didn't reply. He made a noise that you interpreted as a scoff (it was hard to tell with his glitchy voice), and he lightly shook your shoulders. "Bi-i-irthday kid?"

He repeated his call, again and again. It would've been funny, if he weren't a giant hunk of metal fully capable of killing you. At your persistent lack of a reply, he shook you roughly back and forth.

"Freddy! They're clearly frightened, you should let them go now!" Bon-Bon, thankfully, caused Freddy to loosen his grip on you.

The bear frowned—well, as much as a robot can frown. "B-but Bon-Bon!" He let out a mechanical sigh, removing his hands from your shoulders.

You took a shaky breath. It was still rather dark in the room, you couldn't see either Bon-Bon or Funtime Freddy in their entirety. You only saw the outlines of their bodies. The door was still closed, locked. You had no clue how Freddy had even gotten in here (perhaps he slipped past your gaze and entered the room before you shut the door?), but you had no way of getting out. Not with Freddy right beside you.

Then, to get out, what did you need to do? You could just run, sprint to the door and scramble to unlock it. But Freddy would never let you get that far, he would hear and see you the moment you started moving.

Freddy suddenly moved, directing himself to the corner of the room. He sat down with a resounding thunk...right by the door. It was almost like he knew what you were thinking, and quickly wiped away any chance you had of succeeding.

❝ Oh Bon-Bon, let's make this fun! You can't deter me this time, no I'm done. I won't go back to my stage, it's my new trend. Well, let's go say hi to the new friend! ❞

"Sit with m-me, friend!" Freddy's tone was cheerful, friendly even. You didn't trust it, not one bit. "C'mon, it'll be f-fun!"

You reluctantly sat down next to him, longingly looking at the door. He reached for your waist, and pulled you closer to him. You started at the contact. It was sort of like a hug, except not very warm or enjoyable.

“Why were you run-n-ning, birthday kid? Why did you hide from m-me?” He sounded rather sad at first, but there was something more sinister behind his tone. "Are you scared?"

There were two answers to that last question, both of which were wrong in some aspect. If you said yes, he clearly wouldn’t be happy. Or maybe he’d be delighted, actually, reveling in your terror. You didn’t want to potentially give him that satisfaction, but if you said no, you’d be lying not only to him, but also to yourself. He would likely be able to tell your deception, too, seeing as you weren’t the greatest of liars.

"Yes…" you admitted nervously. Better to be truthful than risk upsetting him if he found out you lied, after all. "I’m sorry…" you weren’t, but Funtime Freddy accepted the answer regardless.

"It’s alright, fr-r-iend," he mumbled something that you couldn’t hear (despite the echo of his voice), then whispered to Bon-Bon. The puppet looked down towards his bow, not meeting either you or Freddy’s eyes. He gave a tiny nod, and covered his eyes with his hands, plush ears drooping down. "You made a mis-stake, but you just have to lea-r-rn better! I can help."

"Wha—" He didn't give you a chance to reply, because he suddenly dug his fingers into your neck. You gasped, rushing to soothe pain, however Freddy pressed against your skin harder. Harder and harder, he scraped your skin. In spite of his dull, hardly sharp fingers, he somehow drew blood—it trailed down from your neck slowly.

❝ I knew I was right to think I would find you over here. Well isn't it intriguing that you seem to be just a little bit weary of Bon-Bon and me. Well there's no need… ❞

He smiled wickedly, eyes conveying the same, twisted emotion. He moved his thumb to your neck, wiping the blood onto it. He was all too passive about having his thumb stained red, eyeing the smudge like it was natural. Like he had seen the sight far too many times, and had grown desensitized to it.

"S-see? Was that so ba-ad?" It wasn't the worst of injuries you'd ever had, you conceded, it was just the knowledge that he was fully capable of much more that made it so bad. There was nothing stopping him from biting your head clean off, or knocking you out with his microphone (that you had only now realized was discarded on the floor).

He could snap your legs in two or three or four or five parts if he so pleased. It wasn't that hard of a task—your bones were brittle and weak and pathetic, especially compared to a 350 pound animatronic. It was child's play to him, all he'd have to do is put his entire weight on you, and you'd be out like a light. That was, no doubt, the reason every other mechanic had quit...or maybe they hadn't exactly 'quit.'

"I sa-aid, 'was t-that so bad?""

"O-oh! N...no…" your voice came out as strained, hoarse.

"Good! Thank me. I helped you, like I said, right? You'll be better now..."

You shivered. It was the first time you'd heard him speak without a stuttery echo. It was threatening, foreign and weird. You vaguely wished he'd go back to glitching.

"Don't ignore me, now. Do you need...extra help? I can provide that, if you wish. Can't I, Bon-Bon?" Bon-Bon waved his paw in confirmation. "Do you want that, birthday kid?"

You were well aware it was a rhetorical question. Even if you answered, Freddy wouldn't listen to your protests. He would just continue without a care in the world. So, you kept your mouth shut.

"Bon-Bon, what do you think?"

"I-I think you should lay off the topic for now...you can discuss this with them later, y-you know! It doesn't have to be right now, it could be tomorrow, or, or next week even! I think they're tired—"

"I shouldn't have asked you," Funtime Freddy sighed. "I said it before, there won't be a next time. Because they'll—you'll—just collect your paycheck and leave as soon as you can, won't you? It always happens…time after time...I don't blame them, the previous workers. It's not their fault they couldn't handle getting a little messy."

He patted your head condescendingly. He ruffled your hair, messing up the hairdo you'd worked on for a solid ten minutes to perfect. Then, he yanked on a tuft, and pulled violently. You cried out at the harsh snatching action. "But you're different from them, aren't you, friend? You know how to have a fun time, don't you?"

You whimpered, rubbing the spot he ripped the hair out of. Shaking your head and casting your view to the tiled floor, you dreaded his response. You didn't think you were mentally or physically prepared for how he could respond.

"What's the pained look for? I'll just teach you. There's nothing to worry about, [Y/N]."

"You...know my name?" He had never called you by your name before. It was always 'birthday kid' or 'friend,' or the very rare 'pal' or 'buddy.' You had been convinced he didn't bother to learn your name, or anyone else's.

"Of course I do, silly," he pointed to your uniform, and the shiny name tag attached. "It says it right there!"

You felt stupid for forgetting about the name tag, but in your defense, the only time you saw it was when you got dressed before coming to work. "Oh…"

"Back to business…" his hands reached for your neck. Not again…This time, he wrapped both paws around you, and squeezed, twisting around the skin and making it fold in on itself. He treated your neck like a wet wash rag or a towel, hanging it out to dry and wringing it of any remaining water. "Let's have fun!"

You felt like you couldn't breathe, his grip firm and tight. Your chest felt constricted and tense, it was so, so painful. You let out rough, anguished coughs. Could he just get this over with already, and kill you? Crush your chest with his weight, slit your throat with some sharp object...anything was better than this.

Squeeze. Paws, frigid and solid clasped down again and again. He maneuvered rhythmically, gaining a vicious pleasure from your pants and coughs. Twist. Fingers, dug so deep they could surely feel the underlayer of skin, twirled bits and pieces of your neck together and overlapped them. He let go briefly, to watch your long, unsteady intake of air, before he pinched immediately after, and let go. Agonized sounds tumbled from your lips, yelps and groans and screams.

All of your features communicated torment and terror. You hadn't processed it at first, too caught up in the moment, but there were salty, wet tears streaming down your face. You were sniffling, too, snotty-nosed and pitiful. But hey, at least you got a second to breathe, right?

Freddy gave one final, malicious wring of your neck, before he relaxed. He scanned your body, noting the cut from earlier and the dripping blood, the newly formed marks across your neck, and the tears. He chuckled airily, turning towards his bunny pal. Bon-Bon had his eyes covered and ear drooped down again, like when Freddy had made the cut against your skin.

"Yo-ou can open your eyes now, Bon-Bon. There's not-othing scary anymore…" Bon-Bon reluctantly did so, though he closed them as soon as he saw your miserable appearance.

"Freddy! Don't you think that's a little too...harsh?"

"Don't be su-uch a nag, Bon! They're abs-so-lutely fine. Just a little rough-oughed up."

❝ We know you want to deactivate us, but we just can't let that happen. Every night always, it never changes. But we can make accidents happen. ❞

Bon-Bon glared as best he could at his friend, and detached himself from his arm. He jumped down, falling flat on his face. He picked himself up, and started crawling, considering he didn't have legs.

He made his way over to you, which wasn't very far. He was slow, though, so despite the close proximity, it took him a good few seconds. He reached you, and jumped (somehow) onto your thigh.

He pressed a soft paw on your jeans, and stared innocently up at you. He offered one of his hands to you, and you slowly took it. He giggled softly.

"I'm sorry about Freddy! He's a little mean, I know…" 'A little' was an understatement. "I know you probably can't forgive him—I-I wouldn't either! But I'm not like him, I promise!" His already high-pitched voice raised a few octaves.

"So we can be friends, right? If," he started whispering now. "If you're friends with me, then Freddy might be less cruel...an-and I want to help!"

Funtime Freddy watched the both of you closely, curiously. He couldn't hear Bon-Bon's words now, because he was purely speaking in low, hushed tones. The puppet tugged at your finger and gestured for you to move him closer to your face. You did as he wanted, and he wiped your tears away. "You'll let me help, won't you?"

❝ We can make accidents happen, we can make accidents happen. We can make accidents happen, we can make accidents happen! ❞

You nodded—what else was there? Let Bon-Bon crawl back to Freddy and cry that you rejected his friendship? He'd strangle you again, or worse. Bon-Bon's eyes shined happily, and he jumped back to his companion.

"Wha-at did you talk ab-out, Bon-Bon?"

"Oh, nothing! I was just discussing something with my friend~!"

"Your friend?" Freddy peered at you intently. "The-them?"

"Of course, silly! Who else?"

"O-oh, Bon-Bon, that's great! You should've told me you were fr-riends with the birthday kid s-sooner! We could've had a party-y…"

"Aw, I'm sorry Freddy! We can always schedule that for some other time. I'm sure my—our—friend won't mind!" You would mind, in fact, but Bon-Bon was currently keeping you from dying, so you wouldn't complain.

"You wo-won't mind, wi-i-ill you?"

"Haha...nope, I won't mind a-at all…!"

"How fun! Whe-en should we ma-ake reservations, frie-end?"

"I—I get to pick…?"

"Of co-ourse! It's yo-our party, isn't it? I would hate-e to ruin your party plan-nning fun…"

"Ah...alright...then, how about...tomorrow?" You hoped that was a suitable reply.

Thankfully, it was, because Freddy perked up and clapped his hand with one of Bon-Bon's. "See-ee you tomorrow, [Y/N]. Don't keep us wai-iting…" He then unlocked the door (of course, he struggled to, with his big hands) and opened it.

You thanked him halfheartedly, and rushed out of the door. You slammed it shut, and sighed in relief. You were free to go now...so you did, running as fast as your feet could take you. You were going home after what felt like an eternity stuck here…

You'd have to come back the next day though, right? You told the rabbit and the bear that you would, and while you didn't particularly care if either of them got their feelings hurt, you also needed your paycheck. If Freddy believed all three of you were pals now, maybe he'd be softer?

Before you could leave the pizzeria in its entirety, you heard a voice in your mind. Baby.

"So, you survived…?" She sounded vaguely surprised. You understood why. "And...you're coming back, are you? Do you wish for pain? Or are you truly that desperate for your paycheck?"

You said nothing. "Nonetheless, I applaud you. Though, you certainly aren't the prettiest sight at the moment…"

'That wasn't my fault…'

"I'm aware. I warned you, so I can't feel all that bad about your current state...still, you should rest and patch yourself up. I suppose I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight."

You wished Baby a goodnight in return. Finally out of the place, you found your car and hopped. You sped off, not looking back once.

Your house was peaceful, as was your state of mind. You weren't dead, just damaged emotionally and physically. But that was fine. It was nothing a little T.V. couldn't fix. You snuggled under a warm blanket and prepared yourself some popcorn. That same soap opera was on again...it was very clearly the vampire's baby, why didn't he understand that?

Yelling at the characters for their stupidity, you shoved another piece of popcorn into your mouth. You felt bad for Clara. Vlad was an idiot.

#x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf x reader #fnaf sister location #fnaf sl #funtime freddy #funtime freddy x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere fnaf #i should talk more in tags #its fun #its 1 am im going to bed now

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c0s-lettuce · 3 years ago

Note

could we get more Captain Carter please? I’m- in love

lovestruck dances - peggy carter x reader

gender not mentioned, set in earth-838

a/n: hi anon! i'm glad you enjoyed my first fic, and many apologies this took so long to write. i've been very busy lately. thanks for reading! love ya <3

word count: 1363

warnings: mentions of alcohol

You like working at the Illuminati Headquarters and exploring beyond the realms of possibility. But one thing you would've never anticipated is the loneliness that comes from studying the multiverse. One would assume knowing there are infinite worlds of people would be the least lonely thing. But it seems that it just emphasises your own loneliness.

One thing that makes it all better is Peggy Carter. Your work rarely involved interactions with the Illuminati Council. But that didn't seem to prevent Peggy from catching sight of you.

Not before long, she would hang around your workplace quite often, exchanging flirty remarks. You had to come to terms with the fact that the Captain Carter was trying to woo you. You made a note to scream into your pillow that night.

After your shift today, Peggy asked you for a walk around the city. It's the early evening, and remnants of daylight are fading from the sky. The two of you walk side by side along the street, engaged in a casual conversation with the bustle of people and traffic as comfortable background noise.

This is not your first outing together. You and Peggy would dance around each other. Something further than a friendship was there, but neither of you would say or do anything about it. In your case, you were too scared to do it. You wonder if she was too, or if she just prefered this dance, with only the music of unspoken love.

Peggy was a lot of things. For one, she made you feel a lot less lonely. She also sparked thought and made you deep-dive into the ideas of multiversal constants, absolute points in time and eventually the concept of soulmates. Was Peggy your soulmate? You couldn't help but believe it so. But at that point, you had to stop thinking as to preserve your sanity.

On your walk, the two of you end up on Memory Lane. This place is a bit of an attraction. But not everywhere has a highly advanced device that can instantly replay your best memories. Most of the inventions that make the city what it is today are thanks to one of Peggy's co-workers. You don't question how he came up, let alone made all of his innovations.

"Hey, we should try these," Peggy says.

Before you have time to reply, she grabs your hand and walks towards the small platform on the ground.

"You want to let a machine read your mind?" you ask.

"This thing is perfectly safe," Peggy assures you.

"Yeah, I know. It's just a little weird," you say.

Peggy smiles coyly, "Well then, how about I go first?"

Peggy sends you a wink while stepping onto the platform. Before you can protest, the AI starts up.

"Memory Lane. Replay your significant memories. We remember so you don't forget." it says.

A scene materialises in front of you. You recognise it's the club downtown. Remembering from a while ago, Peggy loves dancing. So when her favourite band was going to perform there, she took that opportunity to ask you out.

The two of you are sitting at a table. You had just finished eating and were chatting about Peggy's childhood.

"And so," Peggy says in the memory, "My mother would get so sick of me playing outside and getting mud everywhere that she made me wash my own clothes one day."

"Wow," you respond, "Top tier parenting."

"I know. I was scared of mud for months after that," Peggy tells you.

"That's pretty funny," you say.

You're about to say something else before Peggy jumps up in excitement.

"Oh, this is my favourite song!" she exclaims.

Standing up and rushing over to your side of the table, she holds her hands out.

"Come dance with me," she says.

Hesitating a bit, you say, "What? Peggy, I don't know how-"

"Oh nonsense, come on," she says.

You don't think you've ever seen Peggy this excited before. Happy to indulge her, you let her usher you to the dance floor.

Once you arrive, you say, "This is nice, but I really don't know how to-"

Peggy hushes you, "It's ok, just follow my lead. Ok?"

You smile, "Ok."

She holds onto you throughout the night and makes sure you're always alright.

Peggy has an innate ability to make you feel like the most valuable thing in existence. She takes the time to care for and tend to you. It's one of the things you loved about her.

The memory fades away, revealing the familiar sight of the street.

"See? That wasn't so bad," Peggy says, stepping off.

"I suppose not," you say.

"Well, your turn," Peggy gestures to the platform.

"What? Why?" you reply, feeling unsure.

"What's wrong? Are you embarrassed?" she asks playfully.

"Pft, no. I just..." you begin to say.

"Just what?" she asks again.

You try to think of a response.

You take too long, and Peggy says, "You don't have to if you don't want to, but I would love to see what memories are valuable to you."

You sigh, knowing it'll definitely show a memory of the two of you. Especially since it just did it with Peggy. Which means you'll probably end up embarrassed.

Hanging your head in defeat, you say, "Ok, fine."

"Hooray!" Peggy does a mini celebration as you walk towards the platform.

As you step on, the system boots up again, repeating the same procedure it did for Peggy.

Your memory shows a view from the top of a building. The city illuminates the landscape beautifully while stars shine in the clear night sky. You see yourself leaning on the railing alone, looking out. A speaker off to the side plays some soft music.

You remember this night. Peggy had just got back from an expedition. In hopes of helping her relax, you had invited her onto the top of the Baxter Building.

Not soon after, Peggy walks up from behind in the memory.

"Hey you," she greets.

You turn and smile, "Hey Peggy."

"You look stunning," she tells you.

"I look the way I normally do," you say.

"Exactly," she responds.

You're thankful the night hides your face.

"Well, you're not too bad yourself, Captain," you say.

"Aw, thank you," she holds out a bottle and two glasses, "I brought your favourite wine."

"Peggy, you shouldn't have," you say, walking towards her.

"The most wonderful person asks me out, and I'm not going to bring a gift?" Peggy asks, "That's absurd."

You laugh, "You're absurd, Pegs."

"Yeah, maybe," she sets the wine down, "But before we drink, may I have this dance."

Peggy holds out her hand.

"Why, of course," you reply, taking her hand.

Peggy smiles brilliantly, guiding you into a slow dance.

That's another thing you loved about her. Peggy could be so fierce in combat. But with you, she's gentle and patient, and she's always there for you for anything.

The memory ends.

You look back at Peggy. She's standing there with a smug smile and her arms crossed. She definitely enjoyed that.

"Happy?" you ask, walking back towards her.

"Oh yes, quite," she smiles.

"I can't believe I agreed to that," you say.

"I am truly honoured to be part of your best memories," she brings her hands to your cheeks.

You ignore the fact that, at this point, it feels entirely natural for her to do this.

"I'm just returning the favour," you say.

"Thank you for trusting me," Peggy says.

You say, "Yeah, well, there's no one I trust more than you-"

Peggy cuts you off with a kiss. It's soft and sweet, her hands still holding you gently. It's delicate, with just enough to keep you wanting more.

From the first day, you knew Peggy would be your reckoning. She levelled your world. And you felt it coming long before this moment. But it's something you wouldn't give up for anything.

You lose track of time. Peggy pulls away while still holding onto you. She smiles lovingly, and you feel your heart beat out of your chest.

"Why don't we find someplace to have dinner?" Peggy asks.

And you reply, "That sounds perfect."

➸

#peggy carter #peggy carter x reader #peggy carter x you #dr strange #dr strange in the multiverse of madness #doctor strange #doctor strange in the multiverse of madness #captain carter #what if #marvel #mcu #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #hayley atwell

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minsyal · 4 years ago

Text

The Fugitive (Finding Home), Pt. 1

Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Warnings: strong language, Resident Evil-esque violence and descriptions of gore, and dark/sexual themes

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime trip turned dark. You're quickly exposed to the sinister and mysterious world of a cursed village under the control of dark leaders. How long will you last and will you ever return home in one piece?

Backpacking through Eastern Europe was not a top priority on your “to do” list. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Being one to preplan everything, you were completely caught off guard when your roommate sprung the idea of the trip out of the blue. You roommate, Jezebel Haine, was your first and only roommate from college onward. All legs, she was one of the stars of the track team but was most certainly not one of the brightest shining ones. She was considerably dim-witted, fanatical, and had a booming over-the-top personality that scared every potential boyfriend who had the disservice of meeting her. There were times, though, that she was rather endearing. Her childlike sense of self and emotional drivers consistently put her at a crossroads between what everyone else was doing and what she should be doing; she was, and always will be, a follower.

After four years of becoming “the bestest of friends,” you had a hard time imagining such a hard shift either into another roommate or living alone. Plus, her parents funded most everything she did and, in turn, funded the apartment the two of you shared.

“It’s an amazing opportunity!” She insisted, waving her hands in a simple manner as she rose from the condensed cushion of the leather-clad couch. “Think about it.” Gathering your hands in hers like a 20’s actress who had just met the man of her dreams, she pulled the bundle to her chest. “We frolic through the European countryside, it’s golden hour. My skin looks absolutely gorgeous… yours too, of course. The sun is just about to set, but alas!” She let out a dramatic gasp, removing one of her hands to cover her mouth. “It’s growing dark out!”

“That’s what happens when the sun sets.” You noted, causing her to drop the act for a moment only to immediately go back into character.

“We hear the crunching of leaves and twigs all around us as if something…” she drew close and lowered her voice to a whisper, “sinister is coming. Out of no where we’re ambushed! By what, I’m not sure. Then,” her eyes became glassy as she lay a delicate hand to her forehead, “two absolute studs… and I’m talking big bulging muscles, gorgeous trendy hair, captivating eyes… really everything a simple girl could ask for… seemingly drop from the sky! We’re saved!” She throws your hands into the air as if they’d fall like confetti. Drawing both her arms in, she sways back and forth in a waltz of one. “We’d be married by the next day! Hell, maybe we’d even end up as princesses.”

Oh, how utterly wrong she was.

“I told you this was a stupid idea.” You groaned, haughtily holding your chin up while feeling your spirits low. A few miles back, on an asphalt road that quickly turned to dirt, sat the dingy red rental truck with a blown out engine and a deflating tire. With no cell service and the last town being over 100 miles back, your only choice was to walk.

“Don’t blame me!” Jezebel stopped walking, feet falling flat to the ground as she stomped her foot in a childish manner. “I,” her lip quivered as all the anger held in her body dissipated, “I just wanted to have a fun time with you.” Big tears flowed from her eyes quickly after finishing her proclamation, leaving smearing black lines down her face from the eyeliner she insisted was necessary in the Romanian countryside. God, if her parents weren’t funding this trip, you’d throw a fit for your money back.

“Jess, just,” reaching backward, you fished a rag from your backpack, “don’t cry. That’s not going to make this better.” Sniffling, she accepted the rag and wiped her eyes, further smearing black all over her face. You couldn’t help but feel a shred of sympathy for her. “Let’s just keep going. No use in wasting daylight. I really don’t want to get caught out here in the dark.”

“Where are we supposed to go, then?”

“I’m sure the next town will have some sort of inn or hotel. At the very least, they’ll have directions to the nearest city.”

After another five miles of walking, the sun was beginning to set and no gorgeous studs were waiting to save you. The blazing yellow ball inched slowly beyond the horizon. Its warming rays that had kept the snow from freezing the two of you in the day crept down below the snow peaked mountains that were nestled in the distance. Shadows began dancing between the trees, sending the forest into a theater of silent performers. The dirt road that was once large enough for two cars was now only a walking path so slim that Jezebel had to follow on your heels. Every now and again you were reeled back by the piece of rope that she had attached to your backpack that was firmly gripped in her hand. She claimed it made her feel safer.

“You think those two hunks are going to come save us now?” You joked, attempting to make light of this dark situation.

“I wish.” She huffed, frustration evading her voice as exhaustion took center stage.

Flickering light caught your eye. Hues of yellow and red mingled together in the distance, the outlines of rooftops and smoke-filled chimneys littered the ground below. “I think that’s a village.”

Another mile of downhill travel was all it took to reach the place where the once distant flickering of torches and lanterns grew into the quiet streets of a cluttered settlement. There was no clear indication of movement once you stepped foot in the village; the only evidence of any life came in the form of fresh boot prints, livestock, and the ever-blazing lanterns. Jezebel was all to happy to release your makeshift leash from her fingers, trotting mindlessly by to examine the street corners and homes. Your eyes continued wandering up the rooftops, finally landing upon the eerie looming castle situated on the mountainside above.

From around the bend, you heard Jezebel screech.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You threw caution to the wind, quickly rounding the corner to scold her like a parent would to a misbehaving child. “You don’t know if these people are violent or not. We can’t just go parading ourselves into the town center.”

“I think they’re violent.” She mustered the shaky words. Her hands covered her eyes and the majority of her face as she backed away from whatever had caused her distress.

“What?” The unpleasant squelch of snow beneath your feet caused your attention to draw downward. Dark snow surrounded your boot, an unnatural red hue stained the pure white. Gaze moving upward, your chest restricted feeling as if it had crushed inward on itself. The putrid smell finally fell upon your nostrils as you backed away from the scene. Severed animal heads hung lazily above you, their tongues flopping from their opened mouths.

“I want to go home.” Jezebel sobbed, rasping her cries into her cupped hand. Shaking her head as if to knock this moment from her brain, her short-lived façade of curiosity gave way to her immediate feeling of impending dread.

“That’s what I’m trying to do right now, Jess. Just, calm down.”

A low grumble had you standing further on edge, if that was possible at this point. The sound was clear as day and was anything but human. You weren’t even sure a human could get to an octave so low without the help of technology. Eyes darting upward once more, a chill ran from your shoulders to your toes.

Hauntingly yellowed eyes lingered upon the two of you. The beast-like figure was silhouetted by the moonlight, outlined like a ghost. It looked to be a man, but also anything but a man in the same sense. Its mouth was parted, baring old rotted teeth that looked to have dried blood caked between its gums. Its hands were bloodied as well, small cuts were painted across its forearms only hidden by the rags that clung to its chest.

Before you could process the situation, Jezebel let out another yelp. In an instant, the beast lunged down from its perch, landing with a ground shaking thud nearly five feet before you. “No!” Jezebel’s open palm collided with the space between your shoulder blades as she pushed you toward the monster. The last thing you saw was her backpack falling to the ground as she began running toward one of the homes. You landed face-first in the snow, groaning as all the air in your lungs were forced out. The beast snarled, once again showing its teeth as it hunched down to your level. This was, most certainly, not the way you envisioned dying. Things like this weren’t supposed to exist; this is myth, this isn’t real. It all felt like bad dream gone worse that you couldn’t wake from.

“Pesky creatures, aren’t they?” A new voice called out as the horrendous sound of metal crushing bone and muscle slithered through your ears. The disgusting feeling of gore instantly trickled down your hands. “Please,” the voice continued, “feel free to thank me anytime.”

A moment later, the stranger let out a scoff with the squishy suction of whatever he had used to quiet the monster. The tap of a boot on your elbow finally prompted you to uncover your eyes. “Or don’t.”

“I,” you started, opening and closing your mouth multiple times unable to find the right words, “thank you.”

“Oh.” He tiled the stiff rim of his frayed hat back, exposing a pair of circular sunglasses perched upon his nose. “Foreigners, eh?”

“Yeah, um.” You gathered yourself, finally pushing up to stand on your feet. “We got lost.”

“And ended up here, no doubt.” A stifled chuckle left his lips as he tilted his hat back in place and swung whatever he used to kill the beast over his shoulder. “If I were you, I’d get the hell out of here.”

Without another word, the stranger sauntered off with a backward wave of his hand. “Oh, and have someone clean this mess up.”

“Y/n!” Jezebel’s shrill voice called as she returned with a rather confused villager. He held a shotgun with both of his hands, Jezebel shone a flashlight in your eyes.

“Are you okay?” The villager moved forward with extreme caution after peering around you dumbfoundedly seeing the crumpled body.

“I’m fine, no thanks to her.” You spat, anger swelling in your throat causing a particular acidity to your words.

“All of you! Inside this instant.” A matronly holler came from behind Jezebel and the villager. “You know Miranda’s protection only runs so far as we grow closer to this time.”

Who is Miranda and, more importantly, who was the man who saved you?

The home you were ushered into was on the outskirts of town. It was one of the larger estates given the fact that some people seemed to live in one-room shacks. Upon entering, you were greeted with the warm glow of yellow light trickling in from what looked to be a formal living room. The sweet aromas of honeyed tea wafted through the air, drawing further in as the woman led the three of you deeper into the home. What was worse? You pondered. Being killed by that beast or potentially being murdered by the inhabitants of this home? You couldn’t decide. Thus far, the two gave no indication of malice.

“Please, sit.” The woman pulled out two of the chairs at her table, the wood scratching against the floor. “I’ll fetch the tea.”

Jezebel was so brainless. She smiled at you as if she hadn’t just offered you up as a midnight snack. Surely there was no hamster running on that squeaky track that powered her.

“What was that thing?” You turned to the man who was now seated to your right. “The monster.”

The man ignored your question, instead grabbing a piece of rounded bread from the plate at the center of table. Slathering butter on it, he looked to you. “How’d you kill it?”

“I didn’t.” You frowned, recalling the mysterious man who saved your life without even dropping his name. The villager raised his brows and kicked his foot up on the table. He was waiting for more information. “Some man came out of nowhere. He had some hammer-like weapon.”

As soon as he processed the words, his foot fell from the table and he leaned forward, uncomfortably close. You could smell the distinguishable bite of alcohol percolate from his lips. “Did he wear glasses? A hat?”

“He did.” The words slowly drifted from your mouth. “Hair to about here.” You motioned to the halfway point of your neck.

“Adelina,” the man called, presumably to the woman who guided you inside. He got up quickly, rushing to the other room leaving you and Jezebel alone.

“What the hell is going on here?” You whispered in a harsh tone, leaning forward to get closer to her. “Is this not weird at all to you?”

“I think they’re nice people.” Jezebel responded at full volume without a second of thought.

“That’s coming from someone who tried to feed their supposed best friend to a monster.”

“I was buying us time to get help.”

“Help? I almost died!”

“But you didn’t.”

“When we get back to the U.S. I never want to speak to you again.” You seethed. How could she be this bad? You knew there were a few… a considerable amount of screws missing from Jezebel, but how in God’s green earth does she justify her actions at this point? The thought of it accompanied by her dazed and empty stare only fueled the fire of anger more.

“Dear,” the woman, who you now knew was Adelina, reentered the room accompanied by the man with a tray of cups and a kettle in her hands. She set a delicate china glass in front of you, softly filling it with a reddish colored liquid that she assured you was Celestial Seasonings, a tea imported from Africa. “I hear that you’ve met Lord Heisenberg.” Placing a hand over her heart, she gave a warm smile that only sent another wave of dread through your body. There was something so alluring about this woman, yet so sinister.

“Lord, who?”

Adelina stiffened, craning her neck to the side as she plastered a forced smile upon her lips once more. You had upset her, that much was obvious. “One of the four Lords that rule here alongside our dear Mother Miranda.” She explained, pushing the cup of tea closer to your body. Jezebel had already finished her first glass. Warily, you lifted the cup in your hand and allowed the warm water to heat your frozen body. An elongated finger pointed to the framed painting that hung to the wall. “Mother Miranda protects us here.”

Mother Miranda. You could only focus on the image of the woman silhouetted by six black wings and a halo outlining her head. Her eyes were indistinguishable behind the raven-like mask that clung to her face. Adorned in a black garb, she looked to be a holy figure in this town. But like Adelina, something just wasn’t right with Miranda.

The unsettling reverb of crickets and cicadas chirping grew louder and louder with each passing hour. You counted the seconds between waves of mass chorus; so far, it was roughly thirty seconds between each bleating scream of their nightly tune. You couldn’t sleep. Despite the somewhat comforting, but entirely unsettling welcome given by Adelina and Marion, you couldn’t help but feel like a caged animal in the tiny cupboard room they had given you. A curious thought tickled the back of your mind, willing you to remain as alert as possible after an exhausting day of hiking; where had they put Jezebel? Not that you particularly cared at this point. After the attack she had done a 180, dropping all suspicion of malice in this village. She simply flushed the pictures of hanging heads and wild beasts from her memory. You sometimes envied her lackadaisical memory accompanied by a fanatical view of the world. Living blissfully ignorant, especially in a situation like this, seemed to serve her best.

After a small dinner of fish that smelled of ammonia, of which you politely picked at, Adelina insisted the two of you stay the night. “The beasts will return!” She exclaimed, holding a firm hand over the intricately carved wood of the doorframe. “Early tomorrow we can arrange for a car to pick you up from the next town over.” Hushed murmurs climbing up from the cracked floors pulled you from your thought. The voices spoke in an incomprehensible argument.

“I’d quite like to keep...” the words faded in and out.

“No, no, no. Don’t be ridiculous...”

“What if....”

The floor spoke a soft squeak from beneath your feet as you shifted to get closer to the voices. Their conversation stopped, and you waited with bated breath for it to continue.

“We have to offer someone up tomorrow.” It was Adelina.

“I know, I know.” Marion sounded frustrated. “But you know Mother Miranda prefers only the purest. How are we supposed to know if either of them are-”?

The words faded once more as the two moved from room to room. Walking on the sides of your feet, you followed. Peeking around the corner, your eyes landed on Adelina and Marion illuminated by a flickering fire. They stood close to one another, keeping their tones low.

“Clearly, we offer the frumpy one. Take a look at her. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s unexperienced.” Adelina snickered, taking a seat on the worn couch with her back to you. “She wouldn’t fit in here anyway.”

“The dumb one would get along nicely with our son.”

“I agree.”

A knock at the front door sent a shiver of adrenaline down your spine. Quickly scrambling to hide, you took in a deep breath as Marion passed by with his shotgun in hand. From the parted door, you could see the sun barely peeking over the horizon. Had it really been that long already?

“Are you sure she’s pure?” The new man stood in the doorway rushed past Marion, looking in the direction of the room they had put you in.

“I suppose we could check.” Adelina called, rising to join the others. “The both of them had that tea. They shouldn’t wake until the ceremony later today.”

“Is she in there?”

“Yes, the other one is upstairs.”

“Let’s check this one first.”

With heavy footsteps falling upon the rotting floorboards of the somewhat dilapidated home, you slunk further into the shadows of the room behind you. The glint of something metal caught your attention; a small handgun sat perfectly on a dresser as if set there intentionally for you to find. Holding your breath, you crept forward to it. You’d never shot a gun in your life, but you knew the basics... both hands, check for ammo, rack the slide, pull the trigger. At least, that’s what the movies told you.

“Out of bed so soon, are we?” The soft voice turned malevolent as Adelina appeared in the doorway of the room. “I wouldn’t use that if I were you.” She motioned to the gun that was aimed rather unskillfully for her chest.

“What the fuck is going on in this village?” You spoke with purpose now, tone wavering slightly as Marion stepped behind his wife.

“You don’t understand things around here, girl.” Adelina spat, moving aside as Marion began charging into the room. The loud blast of the gun echoed from the walls of the home followed by a harsh curse and the sound of a body crumpling to the floor. You had shot Marion in the leg; he’d live.

“No,” you started, re-racking the slide as Adelina’s other friend approached wielding a similar gun to your own. Adrenaline washed over your nervous system, your hands shook violently, but you attempted to remain composed. “You’re the one who doesn’t understand. This isn’t normal! Tell me what’s going on now or,” your eyes trailed down to Marion who was attempting to control the flow of blood from his wound.

“You wouldn’t.” She laughed bitterly.

“Like hell, I wouldn’t.” You exclaimed, training the gun onto her. “Now tell me, what’s happening here.”

“You’ll understand soon enough.” Adelina’s friend’s words were the last thing you heard before your ears rang and the sting of a bullet burnt white hot in your shoulder. You weren’t sure if your gun ever went off again.

Despite being tied, bathed, dressed, and currently sitting on a freezing alter-of-sorts, you still hadn’t the slightest clue as to what was going on. A crowd of villagers surrounded from the south, all carrying on with a rumble of conversation. Adelina shot daggers at you, Marion as well, from a small, inclined hill at the edge of the crowd. The clothes you wore were your own, she had fished through your backpack claiming that it was of no use to waste a nice dress on “someone like her.” Jezebel was likely still fast asleep at their house.

A woman with the likeness of the framed photo you had seen appeared out of nowhere. So, this was the famous Mother Miranda that everyone regarded so deeply. She stood before you as the crowd’s voices hushed and their eyes became hazed with looks of admiration and devoted appreciation. Surely, she was a human, deities and gods didn’t exist in a physical form, you assured yourself.

Without a word, Miranda moved gracefully as if flowing across the ground to stand before Adelina. Taking her face between her hands, she whispered what you assumed to be praise as Adelina’s lips moved rapidly thanking Miranda. She then moved to Marion and grazed her hand against the wound on his thigh, speaking of how his steadfast devotion would quickly heal any injuries of cruelty spread by evil. When her attention finally fell back to you, she frowned. Stalking around you in circles, Miranda’s imposing figure made you want to shrivel to nothingness.

“Thank you.” She turned to the villagers as if to dismiss them. “When the time comes, I will return for another.”

The black wings you had seen in the photo sprouted from her back, shielding your sight of the villagers as they retreated to their homes. Hopeful cries and shouted blessings to Miranda echoed from the crowd as the village gate slammed. The only evidence of them once populating this empty square were flowers and offerings of fruit and grain left for the supposed goddess.

The world swiftly darkened once more.

Part 2 - Paths Meet

I promise there's more Heisenberg in the next part..

Feedback is always appreciated

#karl heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #resident evil village #resident evil heisenberg #re8 heisenberg #heisenberg imagine #lord heisenberg

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

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ice lolly, m | ksj

pairing(s): seokjin x reader

summary: You (accidentally?) deep throat a popsicle in front of Min Yoongi. It's not what it looks like! Well, it kinda is, but you have a good reason! You just want to give your boyfriend, Kim Seokjin, a mind-blowing blowjob and you read some stuff online and, uh... okay, that still doesn't sound like a good reason, but I swear it is.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship; featuring seagull-BTS LOL; crack and fluff; smut (fem reader, m-receiving oral); ft Min Yoongi witnessing your, um, attempt XD; my tongue technology strikes again, maybe you'll learn something?

this is inspired by your hapless adventures, cat whiskers. you told me not to do it, but I'm a brat and I did it anyway LMAO get rekt

So.

You read this thing online.

What if you just...

"What are you doing?"

You started with a shriek, jamming the entire ice lolly right into the back of your throat, instantly choking and yanking it out of your mouth, only for it to be flung off the wooden stick and fly across the sidewalk, leaving a long, ice-blue streak of melting sugar syrup ending with a demolished hunk of discarded popsicle.

A seagull immediately appeared to peck at it.

You gawked, still clutching the wooden stick, Min Yoongi standing beside the bench you were sitting on.

"Why did you try to deep throat your popsicle?"

A second seagull arrived to peck at the icy hunk of sugar water.

Your mouth was still open, mechanically jerking to face him with fire-red cheeks, and it wasn’t because of the bright sunny weather. He looked very much like a disgruntled cat with his expression, black eyebrow raised, dark brown eyes narrowed, pink lips slightly pursed. Yoongi squinted disapprovingly from under his wide-brimmed straw hat. He wore a long-sleeved black shirt under a white t-shirt, breezy black trousers, and sandals.

Yoongi hated the sun.

A third seagull flapped down onto the boardwalk and joined the other two to poke at the rapidly melting mess on the ground.

"Um..."

He raised a hand dismissively, eyes flicking away from you. "On second thought, don't tell me. I don't want to know." Yoongi jammed his black clutch under his armpit and ripped open his own cold sweet treat, turning away from you to face the ocean.

A fourth seagull flocked over to peck one of them in the head and assist in devouring the ice pop.

"Hey, hyung, what flavor did you get?" a smooth baritone voice piped, appearing in an aqua-and-pink colorful shirt and brown shorts with snazzy sunglasses and tan skin.

You were staring at the four seagulls eating your ice lolly with glee, somewhat frozen yourself, feeling a mixture of jealous, mortified, and absolutely ready to chuck yourself into the ocean if Yoongi said anything to out you to Kim Taehyung right now.

"I don't know. I told them to pick one at random," the straw hat replied.

A fifth seagull appeared, slightly smaller than the rest, poking one in the neck and squawking before trying to prod at the puddle of blue syrup with a small chunk of ice in it.

"I got strawberry," Taehyung replied.

Two more seagulls swooped down, pushing the other five all around. All of them were now pecking at the ice-blue sugar syrup, honking and squawking. Like laughter. One of the seagulls had a weird cry, like a cloth rubbed onto wet glass.

Or a windshield wiper on a car window.

"Disgusting."

You narrowed your eyes at the seven seagulls.

We they... laughing at you?

"Strawberry-flavored things are the worst."

You jumped as someone sat down next to you, ripping open a paper package. He was wearing a short-sleeved pale pink dress shirt with a flashy tie and long blue shorts. A familiar someone dressed like this. He placed his backpack down next to you, smiling brilliantly. Full lips, sparkling brown eyes, milk chocolate-colored locks framing his handsome face.

Your boyfriend, Kim Seokjin.

"S-Seokjin!"

He grinned and leaned in, kissing you lightly. Then he became flustered and laughed awkwardly, a little squeaky, almost like a windshield wiper on a car window.

"Hah, sorry, you looked really cute just now."

You blinked rapidly.

Do you tell your boyfriend that you tried to deep throat your ice lolly in attempt to see if you could extend your tongue around the bottom because you read on a certain-website-not-to-be-named that it might be possible to suck dick and lick balls at the same time and you were determined to learn so you could perform said act?

And do you tell Seokjin that Min Yoongi caught you in the middle of it?

Er…

Seokjin cheerfully licked at his lemon ice pop, oblivious to your inner struggle.

"Where's yours? I thought you got one too?"

The seven seagulls cackled. You glared at them, ready to fight.

"Hyung."

Never mind, you paled to the color of rice paper as the deep voice with a little rasp to it appeared beside Seokjin, straw hat and all. You wished you could merge with your pastel floral summer dress and float off with the sea breeze, straight into the ocean after seeing the deadpan expression of Min Yoongi holding a mint green popsicle.

He looked bored, but his eyes were mocking you.

Asshole.

"She dropped it by accident."

"Ah, really?" Seokjin frowned, nudging you with his hand. "Here, have some of mine. I'll share with you." He wrapped his arm around you and patted your shoulder fondly, holding his ice lolly out to you. You felt your heart skip a little at his kindness and closeness.

Yoongi smirked behind Seokjin's head.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

The seven seagulls flapped off, flying above five guys standing near you three, eating icy sweet treats together on the boardwalk this sunny day, enjoying this nice retreat to the sea. A lone seagull popped out from behind a trashcan, trotting over, eyeing the wet spot of sugar syrup soaked into asphalt.

It slunk away in a back corner, dejected that there was nothing left.

"Come on, hurry before it melts."

You nibbled off a chunk. Mmm. Cold, lemony, and delicious. You smiled at Seokjin gratefully and he smiled back, warm and inviting, his cheeks puffing a little like the edges of raised bread. A little sheepish at the public display of affection, but unable to help it when he was with you.

"You might as well stick the whole thing in your mouth," Yoongi said off-handedly, walking away to the group of five guys, leaving you choking on the bench again as Seokjin rubbed your back soothingly, worriedly asking you what was wrong.

"YOU TRIED TO DEEP THROAT A POPSICLE?"

"Seokjinnie–"

"IN FRONT OF YOONGI?"

"Erm, it's not what it sounds like–"

"YOONGI???????"

“I swear it’s not what It sounds like!”

Seokjin yanked the towel off his head, half-dried brown hair sticking up every which way, gawping at you with a slack jaw and shocked brown eyes. He was wearing his emerald green silk pajamas, fresh after a nice shower from the hot day. You too, wore a set of pajamas, a matching outfit with Seokjin.

“It’s not what it sounds like?” he sputtered, flabbergasted, partly flabbered but mostly aghast.

You opened your mouth and closed it. Then you opened it again.

“Okay, it is what it sounds like, but–!”

Why did you bring this up now? Well, your boyfriend was asking you if you wanted to take some medicine and sleep early because you said you weren’t feeling well at dinner. He was a sweet bean and wanted the best for you, and the truth came out in mid-discussion. Seokjin and you had left earlier than everyone else, declining the scenic walk home, mostly because you could no longer stand Yoongi making snide remarks that meant nothing to anyone else except you.

“You might need a bit more force to suck up that thick milkshake. Or wait for it to melt.”

“That’s a pretty big piece of steak. Maybe you should cut it a bit smaller, so you don’t choke.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay for dessert? We could stop by the store and get you an ice lolly on our way home.”

You glared at him all evening.

Yoongi just smirked when Seokjin wasn’t looking.

Asshole.

“Why would you do that in public?” Seokjin was saying, yanking you back to reality and out of your daydreams of socking that smug little shit in the face. “Why would you do that at all?”

“G-Gah, it… it just… just occurred to me…”

“It occurred to you to suck an ice lolly like a dick?”

Seokjin looked as if he was going to pass out and divorce you at the same time and you weren’t even married yet.

“Why, because you’re going to suck frozen dick at some point in your life? Because my dick isn’t ever at subzero temperatures, so unless you’re sucking Mr. Freeze or Subzero’s dick–”

You waved your arms in a panicky manner, flapping your sleeves like a fucking seagull. “No, no, no, I read something online–”

“Oh, you read something online!” he exclaimed, wiggling in place, and now it sure as hell sounded like Kim Seokjin was mocking you while also being disappointed in you and if that wasn’t the most big dad energy you weren’t sure what was. “Yes, because that totally means you should perform fellatio on an ice pop in front of Yoongi of all fucking people! Are you trying to get bronchitis or something–”

“I admit it was a mistake!”

“A miss-take! It was a terrible take! Cut! Refilm! Actually, no, because maybe don’t try to give a blowjob to a fucking popsicle at the boardwalk in broad daylight!”

You smacked Seokjin in the chest and he looked highly offended, finally shutting up for one goddamn second so you could (poorly) explain your logic behind the incident.

“Look, Yoongi was not supposed to be there. At all. I got mine first and you all were deciding and arguing, so I decided to sit down and eat it, but then I noticed it was a specific length–”

Seokjin’s eyebrows rose so high they nearly left his face.

You prodded him in the pecs and he winced, pouting at you.

“So, I tried to put it in my mouth, but then Yoongi showed up and fucking spooked me and I jabbed myself in the throat because I was surprised and ended up rocket-launching my ice lolly across the sidewalk and then these fucking seagulls showed up, those bastards–”

“None of this explains why you tried to do it in the first place.”

“Uh…”

Your eyes shifted awkwardly.

Seokjin impatiently tapped his naked wrist that had no watch on it.

“I read it… in an online smut story I was reading…”

You perfectly handsome boyfriend might actually get a wrinkle if he continued to raise his eyebrows to the fucking moon. “You do what?”

You poked your index fingers together, biting your lip. “Because… I’m not very good at it… so I was thinking maybe I could learn some tips or something…”

“What?”

Now his voice was soft, immediately dropping the act and his anger. You saw him reach out and place his hand over yours, wrapping his fingers around tightly, tugging. You looked up and he tilted his head, brow knitted in worry.

“Hey,” Seokjin frowned, full lower lip sticking out. “What do you mean, you’re not good at it? You are. I like everything you do.”

You chewed on your lip anxiously. “But… but…” It was a stupid thought and, honestly, not that big of a deal, but it had been eating away at you for a while, so you just winced and let it out.

“You never finish with my mouth.”

Rapid blinking was his response. His eyebrows disappeared under his brown hair again.

“And it bothers me. You always finish with your hand into my mouth, but I can’t seem to do it by myself.”

Seokjin’s lips parted, looking apologetic. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

You wrung your hands, loosening his grip on you. “I don’t know, it seems weird to say in the moment and it’s embarrassing… I thought maybe I wasn’t good enough…”

“No, no,” he said gently, holding your shoulders and shaking his head. “I...” His ears turned bright red and he swallowed. “I just like… seeing it shoot out into your mouth.” He coughed awkwardly, squeezing your shoulders. “It’s, er, nice, watching my cum drip onto your tongue and lips…” Seokjin cleared his throat and smiled, cheeks puffing out, looking a bit like the sides of freshly baked bread. “I didn’t realize my selfishness was making you feel inadequate. That’s not it at all. I only wanted to make it easier on you, and, cough, it’s kind of hot…”

“O… oh.”

He patted your shoulder fondly. “It’s only a misunderstanding. We can do whatever you want next time, okay? I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I will do better.”

You nodded and smiled, feeling much more relieved about the whole thing. Seokjin always had the ability to help you let things go, and it always made you feel a little lighter. It was part of the past now and you wouldn’t be bothered if Yoongi teased you any longer, because you had the best boyfriend in the whole world. There was no need to feel embarrassed.

You wrapped your arms around Seokjin and gave him a big, fierce hug.

Only to be impaled in the lower stomach.

“Ow!”

“Ack!”

You jerked back, whipping your head down.

“No, no, no, stop! Stop looking!”

“Why are you hard?!”

Seokjin waved his arms and abruptly flapped his hands down on his massive tent. “We were talking about blowjobs! And you! What do you think is going to happen?” he spluttered, the red creeping from his ears to his cheeks now, matching the exact shades used on merchandise during Christmas time with emerald green pajamas and a red face.

You gawked at him and he gawked back.

Wait.

“This is a perfect chance!”

“No, no, no, it is not, cease and desist, woman! Everyone is coming back soo–Gah!”

There was flurry of movement and Seokjin’s pajama pants were flung off, along with his shirt, and you were pushing him down onto the bed, him panicking the entire time, but he couldn’t have been that mad about it, because he was helping you by backing up, yelping as you hooked your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and yanked down, freeing his erection that nearly slapped you in the face.

“You trying to take out my eyeball?” you teased, grinning.

“You assaulting me and you’re upset that I’m fighting back?” Seokjin retorted, trying to hide his smile and be serious, but he was terrible at that and so were you, both of you grinning like a pair of idiots.

Well, you were certainly a little bit of an idiot for trying to deep throat a – you’re right, we’ll let it go (for now).

“I learned some things,” you said excitedly, forcing his legs open abruptly and making him squeak.

“Things? Ack!”

You leaned down and lifted his hard length up delicately, licking a fat stripe from base to tip, sighing softly as you came into contact with the velvety skin and his clean scent, Seokjin gasping above you, but suddenly this was not about him, this was about the cock in front of you and all the information you had complied to this point, ready to apply your learning. You wrapped your lips around the head, swiping your tongue on the underside, and Seokjin groaned, hips twitching but you grabbed them and pressed them firmly to the bed, shooting him a glare.

“Don’t interrupt me,” you growled around his dick.

He gave you a helpless frown. “Hello, I’m still attached to this di–”

You stared at him and slid your tongue out from your lips, swirling it around his girth, pressing the sensitive tip around the contours of your mouth, his eyes widening as he witnessed spit dripping from the wet muscle.

“O… oh…”

You let your eyes drift over his form, slowly, slowly, savoring the lines of his body, broad shoulders, shapely collarbones, the curve downwards to his trim waist, all the while taking him your mouth, tongue and lips soft and mouth tight, breathing deeply, eyes flickering up to his face and his expanding pupils, watching you with awe.

“Holy shit… and you’re not even naked… o-oh, fuck…”

You cocked an eyebrow, probably looking much more confident than you actually felt, but that didn’t matter. Fake it till you make it, right? And besides, every protagonist in every story has a moment of letting go and having courage and this was your moment, inorganic or not, flexing your tongue against Seokjin’s ever stiffening length, his breathing turning into wispy moans, watching you poised over him with his dick in your mouth, still wearing the silk pajamas and yet.

He watched you with amazement, love and lust in his brown orbs.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Your ears burned hot and you tried not to choke on his dick in embarrassment.

Don’t ruin the moment!

Somehow you managed not to freak out and pressed your lips to the base of his cock, hitting his crotch, the uncomfortable feeling of too full expanding your throat, the head practically plugging your airway, but one glance at Seokjin and the suffocation was worth it, seeing him tip his head back, messy brown hair sliding past his forehead, groaning your name with his eyes closed.

You pulled back a little, took a breath, and went back down for the kill.

“What the fuck…?”

Lower lip opening, tongue stretching out, only able to move the tip a bit at the top of his balls. Hm. This wasn’t working. You adjusted and cupped a hand under them, lifting the two soft mounds and pressing them to your chin, your tongue swiping out over them, his dick bending a little in your mouth (more flexible and a lot warmer than an ice lolly, by the way), and Seokjin was losing it above you, shuddering and whining, a mix of curses and your name as you turned your head to get a different angle, the tip of his cock pushed to one side of your throat, determined to see what was most comfortable and got you the best reaction, saliva coating his balls and causing them to become more slippery. You furrowed your brows and gripped his balls tighter, smearing the slick liquid over the soft skin and Seokjin moaned obscenely loudly, falling onto the bed, back arching.

“Oooh, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Abruptly, your throat spasmed, reminding you that needed to breathe, and you pulled back, coughing and panting slightly.

“Does that feel good?” you wheezed. Not the sexiest. You grimaced and cleared your throat, asking again. “Did that feel good for you?”

Seokjin tipped his head up, brown eyes glazed over, breathing hard. “Ah… It feels nice, but I don’t think I could finish with that…” Your frown deepened, but he shook his head, sending his brown hair floating everywhere. “It’s not tight enough. But it’s an insane turn on, so I think I could cum faster after…” He coughed, cheeks flushing. “After feeling and seeing it, you know?”

Your frown erased and you nodded, gently rubbing his soaked balls, seeing him shiver and his breathing shallow. “I think I understand, yeah.”

“Can… ah, can you finish me, p-please, ack, you k-keep – fuuuuuuuck…”

You went down again, but this time your focus was on the tightness of your mouth, tongue sliding from side to side, bobbing your head in a smooth, swift motion, keeping your lips soft, eyes closing as you felt his cock twitch inside your mouth, completely focused on the sensation of Seokjin in between your lips, breathing him in, the soft scent of fresh soap and his sweetness, trying to remember if there was anything you had forgotten.

Ah, yes!

You tipped your head back slightly and Seokjin cried out, heady and erotic, as the head of his cock dragged along the roof of your mouth before burying into your throat, over and over, hot saliva and a squirming tongue amplifying the sensation, realizing you needed to relax your throat but clench your mouth muscles while relaxing your lips and doing all this while keeping track of where his cock was going in your mouth so you didn’t accidentally choke on his dick.

A whole new level of multitasking.

Was the writer of that erotica you were reading some kind of sex god, because what the fuck–

But it didn’t matter, because even if it was sloppy and you couldn’t focus on all these things simultaneously, Seokjin was feeling only pleasure, fingers curling in the sheets, barely able to choke out his words through his moans.

“F-Faster, please…”

Faster? You could barely keep up as it was!

“Please…” he whined and you obeyed immediately, faster it was, because you were weak for him, weak for Kim Seokjin and his pleading face, pupils so blown out he seemed intoxicated, drunk on pleasure, and that made you aroused too, seeing your effect of him, tightening ever more and increasing the pace, the wet smacking sounds quickening, echoing in the bedroom with his lustful groans of your name, so sweet and loving that if you weren’t going to pass out from how fast you were going, you were surely going to pass out from the overwhelming adoration in his eyes. It made you push for a little bit more, push your limits a little harder, made you feel like you could do this.

For him.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck!”

Seokjin gripped the sheets tight and threw his head back, chest expanding with a low moan, thrusting his hips up and cock jolting, shooting thick streams into your throat, and your eyes widened, forced to stop, feeling his cum pool, creamy and viscous, tasting the delicious saltiness at the base of your tongue, your eyelids fluttering a little at the feeling of the tip rutting against the roof of your mouth and more dribbling out, coating the inside of your mouth.

Oh.

Oooh, fuck, it felt good.

You swallowed, feeling victorious and insanely horny, tongue circling round and round his flinching stiffness, able to sense the pulse and his shudders, descending again because you couldn’t get enough, so good, the feeling of him still in your mouth, him shivering at your persistent licks and light sucks, stroking his hips and moaning at the skin to skin.

The front door banged open downstairs and there was a lot of laughing and shouting.

Your eyes snapped open and Seokjin looked back at you in sheer panic.

The footsteps up the stairs proved they were being taken two at a time.

“Shit.”

Never had Seokjin yanked his cock so fast out of your lips (sad) and snatched his underwear and pajamas, bolting to the bathroom and throwing himself in there in record time the literal second the bedroom door was yanked open by rambunctious strength and a grin whose front teeth were ever-so-slightly too large for his face.

“Hyung, noona!”

You were laying with your head in your hand and your elbow on the bed, which was probably too sexual and weird for Jeon Jungkook, but that was all you got that this moment. He gave you a slightly disturbed and confused look under his big black bucket hat.

“Where’s hyung?”

You coughed and lowered your hand, trying to get in a less awkward position. “B-bathroom…” you rasped. Oh no. Did you go too hard? You sounded a bit like the crypt keeper. Fortunately, you didn’t look like one, so there was that. You rubbed your throat, wincing at the soreness. You definitely went a bit rough. You weren’t no young spring chicken anymore. You were going to feel that in the morning.

Sacrifices had to be made.

Jungkook pouted, bounding up to you and tilting his head. He was a moving black fabric mountain with his long-sleeved shirt and billowy shorts. “Are you really sick, noona? Do you want hot tea or some milk?”

Oh my God, Jungkook, I just sucked some dick and that’s why I sound dead.

Don’t say that.

“I… I’ll be fine, Jungkook. Did you have a nice walk?”

“Oh, yeah! There were fireworks! I think the city was celebrating something, and it was so colorful and pretty…”

You sat there and nodded, trying to listen intently while trying not to think about how Seokjin was in the bathroom rinsing off his saliva and cum-covered dick literal meters from you and oblivious Jungkook.

You saw movement behind Jungkook’s excitedly bouncing head. No straw hat, just black hair flattened against his forehead, covering his cat-like, dark brown eyes.

Yoongi.

He smirked, holding up a box.

Frozen ice lollys, the fizzy soda flavor that was light blue.

A muscle in your eye twitched.

Asshole.

masterpost

#seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #bts smut #seokjin x you #jin x reader #jin x you #kim seokjin x you #kim seokjin x reader

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