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#but i wonder what did it here to make it worse cus you can see a clear red splotch come on
rinatic · 1 year
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NCT 127: when they have a crush on you
[ Taeil ]
Heart eyes :)
He thinks you have no idea that he has a crush on you
While literally everyone knows including you 😭
Tries to be lowkey
Gives you presents, does tasks for you and so on
And when you ask him why he's taking care of you he accidentally admits his crush on you indirectly
"I just thought you needed help" "because why not? I wanted to help you :)"
Sir we can see your heart eyes very well from miles away 🤨
When you're around, his lips are ready to form a smile immediately
He looks so awkward pleasee
Kinda gives up because pretending that he doesn't love you tires him so he just confesses
Accept my mans love 😤
[ Johnny ]
Turns into a total loser
He's a loser already but it gets worse when he has a crush
Basically his world revolves around you
And wants the opposite too
Pro at stealing glances without anyone noticing
Doesn't understand why you wouldn't go eat at macdonald's with him at 1:00 pm afternoon at friday this week
"You're not busy stop lying" "you HAVE to come eat something with me because I'm starving, or I'll have to eat you 😈"
Did i mention that he'll throw sexual remarks here and there?
He'll see if you're comfortable with it or not, and if you are, you have to deal with it because dis boy is dirty af
A lot more touchy than normal
You won't know he has a crush on you because he acts like this with everyone
So you'll be surprised when he confesses
[ Taeyong ]
Becomes obsessed
Bro has 583259753 pics of you that he stares at before going to sleep
He thinks it might help him dream of you lmao
When you're not around, he's so confident about how nobody's gonna realize his crush on you
But as soom as you enter the room, boy melts
It is like he falls in love again and again like the first time every time he meets you
Takes care of you and thinks that it is his duty to protect you
Unlike other men who'll act manly, he turns into a cutie around you
Your opinions matter to him
Wants to have your full attention so he's constantly snatching you from others
"We can't even breathe around y/n!" "You thought i would let you share the same air as her? Go breathe somewhere else 😤"
Is awkward but it is endearing :)
[ Yuta ]
He's scarier than usual
Yuta as a friend would be a giggly goofy party guy
But yuta when he's in love?? Scary af
Sometimes you catch him glaring at you and you wonder what the hell did you do to get him stare at you like that
All other men become competition to him
Is constantly worried about you
"Are you safe? Do you want me to come take you?" "Go home safely, make sure to lock your apartment door"
Is more protective than usual
Hugs you longer than he should
You're the only person he genuinely smiles at
[ Doyoung ]
It's giving FBI
Bro wants to know everything about you
You know that fbi friend who gets you all info on your crush? That's him
Never spills anything in front of you, he's careful with his words lmao
Members tease him all the time about his crush on you (he never told them, but he accidentally stared at you longer than usual)
"S-Stop it! I don't like y/n!" "Why do you think I'm in love with her? I just think she's pretty."
Is a busy man but gives you the utmost attention
Supports and helps you even when you don't need it
Buys 'friendship' rings for you two (it's actually couple rings don't ask him about it or he'll panic)
You'll immediately know he loves you cus bros eyes be exposing him
[ Jaehyun ]
When boy finally accepts his crush on you, he decides to not show it
And he's so good at it you won't catch him slip
The boys will laugh at him because of how hard he's trying not to show his feelings
He's the king of subtlety
So he definitely throws subtle hints here and there
And you don't get it lol
"Y/n you're so annoying why do you have to be dumb 🙄" "but i love this dumb woman so I'll have to do something before someone else gets her"
Then he decides to move to the next plan
And it is sending you love songs :)
Hoping you'll get the signals that he likes you
But if you don't, then he'll have one option left to make you realize his feelings
He'll have to confess
[ Jungwoo ]
This boy right here turns into a puppy around his crush
Not just cute, he also listens to you and does anything you want him to do
Also bro wants to impress you so expect a random backflip or a handstand lol
Isn't sure what to do about his crush on you
So he just brings food (???) everytime you're around
"You seem weak these days, y/n 😥" "eat this! I want to see you healthy and energetic"
If one of the boys annoys you, he hits him and it's harder than he usually hits them lmao
Observes your actions and thinks he's slick however you can see him looking at you
A walking wallet around you
And the boys are definitely jealous of you
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rhmis-user-2020 · 6 months
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Team awesome but Hugo is part of them - Chapter 1: Meeting Adira and Hector
Adira: Our old friend brought his son, Varian for a visit and we are thinking if we should talk with him since we haven't seen him or talked with him since we only know a vague description of his son so now's the time to see him.
Hector: Sheesh, I wonder who he'll bring with him. Maybe Eugene since he is the son of King Edmund, may be a smart idea for our friend.
Adira: Surely he would bring the son of King Edmund, if-
Varian the alchemist: Hello, look who I brought to come with me.
Hugo: Hi.
Hector: What the f-
Adira: That wasn't what I expected.
Eugene Fitzhebert: Heh, Quirin spoke about this and it's bringing someone one year older than Varian since "Adults aren't allowed to be close towards 18 year old" and I do not have a clue why he won't just allow me to come with cus Hair stripe is an adult and rather bring someone that is one of Varian's friend from his journey and thus why I would frequently hate the idea of bringing this dude every time I was around Varian.
Adira: So, does he have a name?
Eugene Fitzherbert: Yes, his name is Hugo.
Hugo: Listen, I only came as a rule from Varian's father.
Hector: Can you like remove that dude's face?
Hugo: Oh, if it isn't the crazy Rhino dude over here.
Hector: Stop using the damn nickname from Adira, you thief that crawled out of the garbage. It's not like I care if I desire to take care of wild animals like rhinoceros and two binturongs, and you only came here to act like Quirin's weird rules. Why did he choose this direction where it's not permitted to talk or see Varian unless you are around like some kind of bodyguard.
Hugo: Be careful, or I'll use my mouse who is Olivia.
Hector: Dude, are you serious? What's a mouse going to do?
Hugo: I tried to sound threatening but sounded like a complete idiot, but try me and I would one day make sure I would not let you see Varian.
Hector: Dude, what's up with you?
Adira: The crazy rhino man arguing with a blonde-haired thief for the first time.
Eugene Fitzherbert: Yup, I can't blame him. This dude is like me but 100% worse similar to that of my copycat!
Varian the alchemist: This reminds me of Cassandra and your argument.
Eugene Fitzherbert: And also, Adira and Hector. Albeit, how did you know this tad bit of information.
Varian the alchemist: You did call her a dragon lady.
Eugene Fitzherbert: And also Madame Ice Demon, heh. Good times through!
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fleouriarts · 11 months
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Hello! I thought I’d just say this here, your art is outstanding!! I love your world building abilities, it’s incredible how you’ve created such an in depth universe! It’s a huge inspiration to me! Also the way you portray trans characters in your work makes me so happy! Since I’ve found your work I’ve started making my characters unapologetically trans after seeing how confidently you draw them! I’ve stopped worrying about making a character’s gender easy to read or understand and it’s been more euphoric than I expected! I was wondering if you have any story writing tips/world building tips? I’ve got this one story I’m working on but I’m a bit stuck on adding creatures and stuff to it
Thank you so much!
first of all thank you so much for all the compliments! i'm always really happy to see people touched by the way i depict my trans characters + my interpretations of other characters as trans, it's nice to know my art has that sort of impact
as for worldbuilding/story writing tips, i honestly get most of my inspiration for worldbuilding from my college classes. i'm a biology major who usually takes some anthropology and art history classes on the side to offset my ridiculous amount of STEM work, so i end up encountering a lot of stuff that would inspire both my cultural and biological worldbuilding. however, obviously i know that not everyone is in higher education, but you could probably get the same sort of thing by hunting down documentaries about things you'd like to put in your world (or things you like in general! i often just add something to my worldbuilding cus i like it and find a way to justify it later). if anyone has any recommendations for stuff like that please post those in the replies!
for creature design specifically, i would recommend looking through jayrockin's character design tag, especially if you're going for more hard spec bio. i haven't really gotten around to designing a lot of sumakha's fauna, but when i do, i'll probably take this approach to it. i think a really good way to make unique-looking designs is by focusing on a species' niche and what they would've had to evolve to be successful in it. for example, ketvidae are a mishmash of cats, lemurs, mustelids, and a bunch of other random mammals cus i was basically just pulling from anything that was an ambush predator and/or arboreal. i sort of did the same thing with pemadae, where i based them on horses/antelopes but gave them a raptor stance since all of those animals are things that run fast and (at least for horses and antelopes) live in grasslands. i find this approach to be helpful for making creatures that don't look exactly like a single real-life animal while also not getting too nonsensical about it (but also things being nonsensical CAN be really fun, don't be afraid to 'rule of cool' your way into a design you really like)
as for story writing... i wish i had tips but i'm really flying by the seat of my pants with it. my two main stories/worlds (comatelma and sumakha) are things i've had for multiple years now and i've just been rewriting parts whenever i come up with something or the old stuff no longer works. i know it's hard NOT to stress about being stuck, but if you keep trying to brute force your way out of that block, i think it'll just make you feel worse (speaking from experience). personally, inspiration hits me at the most random times in the most random places. i didn't work on sumakha for almost a year because i couldn't figure out how to redesign pemadae, and then someone in a server i'm in posted about raptor furries and suddenly everything clicked. so don't feel bad if you haven't had that 'click' moment yet, it'll come eventually (though i know it's frustrating to wait for LOL)
i guess that's all the tips i have, hopefully i answered your question well!
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longtallglasses · 15 hours
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fanfic writer asks ❤️🎁 ?
❤️ favorite line/part - this is from ch14 of my blair witch
Although he's afraid, it’s becoming clear that the pain of moving on might be just as bad as staying, if not worse. He thinks of her, and wonders if this is why she did it. She always knew living was harder than death, and maybe living like this was his punishment. Half alive, half dead. 
She performed a kindness for him but a performance was all it was. Give him back something while she took everything else. Fairness in name but nothing else. Kissed by Judas, he was doomed.
🎁 this is from my mid-00s internet/youtube/msn au wip ‘undisclosed desires’ i haven’t worked on it in forever but i love them
“Wait, so you dated the police chief’s daughter?!” Will exclaims in shock.
They’re on skype for the third time this week. They’d been talking for close to two hours already about random shit, everything, Mike can’t keep track of it all. He thinks he’s getting some kind of high from it, Will will ask him what he thinks about some game, book, youtuber, and all the things he’s ever wanted to say to someone come spilling out. The conversation now, however, has veered more personal and it’s making him fidget something like crazy.
“Yeah…” Mike’s face downturns.
“So did you like, get away with everything?”
“Fuck no, he hated my guts! I couldn’t do anything, he thought I was like a bad influence cus I hung out with the ‘burnout types’,” Mike uses air quotes, “You know the kind of kids he’d bust in the woods for drinking or smoking or whatever,”
“Oh so you were a bad boy,” Will raises his eyebrows teasingly.
Mike grows red, flustered, laughing nervously “No, no, not like that just, my friends, well I don’t even know if I call them friends, I just kind of hung around them,”
“Why wouldn’t you call them friends?”
Mike blows air out like a horse, “I don’t know, like they were —or are-—my friends but not really? I don’t know, it’s hard to explain, like I can hang out with them but I don’t really talk to them, at least not in the way that we talk, you know?”
Will nods, “Yeah I get it. Who do you think are your real friends?”
It’s such an innocent question but it makes Mike sweat, this is when Will finds out just how much of a loser he really is, “Um… I don’t know,” he starts off quietly, “Uh I mean Jennifer was a real friend, she was pretty close to a best friend,”
“Mmm,” Will looks like he’s really considering Mike’s words and it excites Mike but it’s making his face heat up and his hands shake, the way that Will is thinking about him, please don’t see that I’m just stupid little boy now, he thinks.
“Why did you guys break up?” Will asks it so nicely, so carefully, like he knows how sensitive this is to him.
Mike clears his throat and swallows, “Well, I mean, she’s going off to college and I wanted to stay here and take a gap year and you know distance and-” he shrugs, “that’s just how it goes right? It’s a nice thought but who really stays with the person they were with in high school,”
He tries to end it with an air of casualness, of normalcy.
“Did you love her?” Will’s brow was furrowed, as he’s picking at something off screen.
“Sure I mean, yeah,” he tries to say it with enthusiasm but it comes out sounding sarcastic, “she was like a best friend you know,”
He sees Will smirk as he raises his eyes back to Mike, “So that’s a no then,”
God he loves it, but also hates how Will is not afraid to poke at his obvious bullshit.
He lets out an exasperated breath, “No- well- yeah, I just… I loved her in a way you know. You know like a best friend, that’s kinda how I loved her.”
“You keep saying like a best friend, what do you mean by that?” Will asks it with no bite, genuine curiosity in his eyes but the question breathes down his neck.
“Are you gonna nit pick and psychoanalyze every word I use?” he accuses but there’s a smile on his face as he asks.
“Mmmm,” Will stops and pretends to ponder this, ”Yes, yes I am,” and he directs the smuggest grin at him.
so tempted to post all of it but massive spoilers
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totallynot · 14 days
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back on Tumblr after two years and holy shit my old posts are so much more cringy than I remember but it's okay I was just a kid i can delete them later I don't think anyone is gonna find this account .
anyways the reason I'm back is because I just need somewhere to write. Tumblr is like an old reliable friend I can go talk to.
Anyways you've missed a lot. Things with her are less horrible. I think me moving out has helped the family. My issues make things worse here. Things still are bad sometimes but not nearly as often.
I actually dated this guy for a year and like 7 ish months. He was a year older than me. I knew him from robotics and I always thought he was kind of cute. He never thought of me before we got together though. Basically how it went was we were both at a party in a game of paranoia and the question asked of me was 'who in this circle would you be most likely to date?' I, the silly girl I was (and lowk still am) responded looking in his eyes and pronounced his first and last name... yeah but the thing is I wasn't even like into him?? I just said it cus like it's fun to tease boys?
idk whatever. anyways one of his friends asked one of my friends to prom and so his friends since all of them had dates were like oh '[ex's name] do you want to bring someone to prom' and he was like 'ig' and they were like 'do you have ideas on who' and he was like 'yeah I think she (me) would say yes bc of what she said in paranoia.' And so then his friends like poked and prodded him to ask me to prom and it was really sweet how he ended up asking me and everything but like unclear if he meant it as friends or what. so like we start planning prom together and he's like kind of really nice and organized and even though I started liking him and at prom we did a lot of hand holding. eventually after prom we went on more dates and started dating.
From the beginning I feel that I was never too into him :/ like he was nice but I had never had attention like that from someone and I really started enjoying how he talked to me and he was clean and everything so we started dating. and like I think I expected things to end a lot sooner than they did when we initially got together.
The first summer together was wonderful. But like we barely talked. Like all we did was make out. We talked on the phone at night sometimes but in person we mostly just made out and dry humped. And so when he was leaving for school i anticipated breaking up then but he wanted to try the long distance. We decided that we'd reexamine our relationship at Thanksgiving.
In the first few months of long distance I was sure I was gonna end things because I knew I didn't really like him that much. Like 100% sure. What made me change my mind was this:
My 17th birthday was landing on a weekend and he said he'd come home that weekend to see me. That was also the weekend of homecoming. Unfortunately I got COVID and was unable to celebrate or go to homecoming or see him. That weekend he along with some of my friends surprised me with a cake and card outside my home. I was so sad and it was so nice and it made me so much less sad. He then made plans to come back home a couple of weekends later to makeup for the fact that we couldn't see each other. A few days after that I was really frustrated during a tennis match and I told myself to think about what makes me happy. And what I thought about was him and my talks with him. So I decided to stay.
Looking back on its, I think that I really liked being in a low stakes casual dating situation. We weren't (at least i wasn't) concerned about sex or anything like that yet I just liked having a friend to talk to everyday.
Anyways so I didn't break up with him and so that's when the sex stuff started. That's when on the phone conversations started to go into things other than kissing. We both decided we wanted to so the next time he was over we did some things. And eventually by the time we were together for sevenish months we had done more things. We gave each other that special gift.
That's pretty much it I guess. It stayed like that for me. We were from there a serious relationship. And things were good but when we hit one year I thought to myself 'damn there's no going back now unless I have a real good reason.' Shiit i shouldn't have let it get that far. Oh well.
I loved him. I just don't think I would want to marry him. I don't know if I was in love with him or even like attracted to him. I loved him like you love a best friend. He was someone I could go to if anything was wrong and he would listen and I could trust that I wasn't a bother to him. I liked having someone that I could be close to like that. I liked the sex. I liked how he held me. I liked that he loved me. But it wouldn't be fair for me to use him for that when I knew I didn't love him like that.
I broke up with him a bit over a month ago and fuuuckk i miss him. I miss having a best friend that I talked to every night. That I could just be with and all my problems would simply melt away. Now instead I have to feel my feeling and that fucking sucks. I am so anxious all the time. And like people that aren't your boyfriend don't really want to hear the same thing about how you're feeling again and again. But writing it down here felt really good.
I worry about him a lot. I often felt guilty about the fact that he had like no friends at college. I felt like I couldn't leave because how does that leave him? I was going to reach out to his friend from high school after the breakup so I knew he was talking to someone about it but my ex said that he'd tell him himself. I found out last week that he did not tell him. That made me worry more but maybe he told his roommate more? Maybe he's getting closer to him and his friends. I don't know. I hope he's doing good. I really do love him still. How could I not? At the very least he was my best friend for two years.
I have been a mess since the breakup. I don't know how to handle things without him being there for me to bounce my thoughts off of. I know myself and know that if I'm still single this summer I may hit him up but it's good I'm single now. It's good I'm able to make the emotional mistakes I'm making recently, now instead of later I suppose.
I tried journaling outside of Tumblr like on paper and that shit just does not hit the same. I missed you Tumblr. Maybe I'll come back more often. This really did help a lot I feel.
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filthforfriends · 2 years
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A Lullaby for the Dawn
Tumblr media
Damiano x org fem character
Word count: 3.3k
Request: Damiano as a father fluff
TW: swearing, mention of sex
Damiano looked into the studio wings when they went on commercial break. Chiara said she’d come if the babies were asleep and could be left with the nanny. Having her near always calmed the nerves, but the prospect of going back to the hotel room to quiet and order was even more enticing. Unfortunately he didn’t see her, just their publicist who said a prayer each time a member of Maneskin opened their mouths on American national television. The cameraman gestured that they had a minute until Late Night with Conan O’Brien was live again.
“Alright, we’re back in just a sec here,” called a production assistant. Conan straightened out his cue cards, rolled his shoulders back, and sat up straight. Damiano refocused his attention, putting on his camera face with a generous dash of personna. He wished they’d seat Victoria closest to the host instead. When Damiano was tired he didn’t always feel like putting out a megawatt of charisma. The house band was cued into playing and the camera counted down on three upheld fingers.
“Alright, and we're back with Maneskin! Now we started talking before the break, but I have to ask, what’s with the clothes?” Conan gestures up and down the outfit with his hand. It was the usual black leather, pretty tame for them.
“They’re cool. What do you mean?” God bless Thomas for getting better at English for these interviews.
“Well it’s very,” Conan pauses for dramatic effect, as if they hadn’t planned this, as if he hadn’t seen far worse every single Met Gala. “It’s very Rihanna, very chains and whips excite me.”
“We look hot, what other reason does there need to be?” Victoria gave a flirtatious smile with her arm flung over the back of the sofa, unafraid to take up space. “Plus whips and chains do sound pretty exciting don’t you think?” Even Ethan spoke up and agreed, and Damiano knew it would come off as strange if he didn’t speak up, like, now.
“We think that people should wear whatever they like, whatever makes them feel empowered. This is part of what our message.” If Damiano had to talk about their message one more time he was taking a vow of silence like a monk. They’re musicians, not politicians.  “This is what makes us feel powerful, we feel good in it. It also takes from one of our favorite era’s of rock music, when bands and music were the most influential, we think. And that, of course, inspires us.”
“Because you look very sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll, if I may say.” Conan seemed to almost choke on those words, feigning being scandalized to identify with the viewers. “What’s something about you that would surprise people? What’s something that they wouldn’t expect?” Damiano wonders if it's a set up for what Victoria says next.
“Well Damiano is married with children.” They all chuckle at that, it clashes so aggressively with the rest of their image it sounds ludacris. Conan’s eyebrows go up to his receding hairline, of course meticulously covered by makeup.
“Really?” He sounds so surprised that he might argue with them on that fact. “Wow, I did not expect that.” Damiano nods along, eyes critical, as if to say: yes someone would trust me enough to marry me. No, I am not just whoring my way through my fan base just because I can. Yes I am capable of commitment. No, the things you associate with my aesthetic are not representative of my entire personhood. Yes, I am still a touring, successful musician with a family. No, you cannot make my fatherhood into a funny one liner. Yes I am present and active in their lives.
He at least sees and honors the warning look in Damiano’s eyes. For the camera’s  to fully catch it, they’d have to be directly across from Damiano, which they aren’t, Conan is.
“Well your kids are going to have an incredible life.” Damiano lets his face soften into a genuine smile. “Was that kid's plural? Like more than one? I know English isn’t your first language.” It's funny enough that Maneskin can feign a genuine chuckle.
“Yeah, yeah I have twins.” Even with all the pain in the assery of parenthood, Damiano feels warm talking about his babies. He knows that his disposition has changed, and can feel it in the way the corners of his mouth turn upwards without him ordering his facial muscles to do so. He both loves talking about his children and is intensely private about them.
“How'd that happen?” Oh well I choose to intentionally become a father to two right as my career as a musician was taking off internationally, why do you ask? Really it's a rhetorical question because, obviously, by accident. Victoria saves Damiano from his own sharp tongue, being the best friend that she is.
“Conan, if you don’t already know I don’t think we can tell you, given how you Americans feel about sex.” The audience laughs at this, even members of the house band chuckle. Victoria looks over at them and smiles, also pulling them in. She’s smart to get as many people under her spell as possible, and on a less sleep deprived day, Damiano would be doing the exact same.
“I believe you have a story about a bird, yes? That you say to children?” Ethan’s thick accent is endearing, and the room laughs again. Damiano just rides the band's good humor and wit for the next minute and a half until they’re off the air. The second he gets the signal, he jumps up to ask if anyone’s seen Chiara. Thair publicist says no, so Damiano goes to his dressing room to dig his phone out of the pocket of his street clothes.
10 minutes ago: just got them to sleep ❤️ if you wake them coming inside I’ll murder you ❤️❤️ I hope the show went well love!
So she didn’t get to watch it. Damiano feels a touch crestfallen, but he knew this was likely to happen. Chiara would catch up when she could, knowing that this momentous landmark in their career was something Damiano would want her to see, want her opinion on.
“Everything good at home?” Ethan’s the first to get into the dressing room and away from the polite chit chat with industry execs.
“Yeah, she just got the kids down.” Ethan’s choice of language evokes something in Damiano. “They’ve adapted to the hotel rooms, but I wish they didn’t have to. I think they prefer the tour bus because it's constant. But, you know the tour bus...”
“The tour bus sucks,” finished Vic as she entered the room, stylist behind her.
“Exactly.” Damiano held his arms up so their stylist Nick could free him from this gorgeous contraption of an outfit. They had a routine. Damiano was first for most things so he could get back to the children, back to Chiara. It was one of the many sacrifices his bandmates had made for him. He was eternally grateful for the way they’d handled the surprise pregnancy, being fiercely protective of Damiano and his little family.
Thomas, Victoria, and Ethan had been endlessly generous, not making him choose between his career, his kids, and the love of his life. He got all three because of his bandmates. When they’d presented as a united front, it didn’t matter what their management at Sony wanted. They’d become successful enough that if their record label fought them, they could buy out of their contract and get dozens of offers to sign with a new label. Sony knew that, they knew that, Maneskin’s management knew that. So while they made enemies, Damiano had also made a life for himself.
“So how’s the American nanny?” Nick had moved on to unhooking Thomas from his chainmail. The casual maturity with which Thomas spoke - not even 23 years old - floored Damiano when he was feeling retrospective.
“She can only do so much to soothe them when they don’t recognize her. Cosma especially misses Rosa, I think.” Rosa had been their children’s nanny since they were three months old, but she didn’t speak any English. She spoke some French, German, Spanish, etc. so in multilingual Europe they were fine. It just wasn’t safe for Rosa to care for them in a country like America. The logistics of arranging a nanny in the states had been hellish too. Regardless, Gazala was grey, steady, experienced, and not overwhelmed by the twins. The memory of traveling across the Atlantic without a nanny still made Damiano shudder.
“But Cosma is doing better?” Damiano nodded along and hummed in agreement to whomever had asked the question, arranging everything in his bag so he wouldn’t make noise doing so in the hotel.
“It would be good for Rosa to learn English.”
“Right, you say that like it was so easy for you, Ethan.” Even a preoccupied Damiano grins while the others laugh at Vic’s quip.
“Okay, I will see you guys way too fucking early tomorrow. Let me know if they change the call time again. And by me, I mean Leo since my phone is gonna be on silent anyways!”
“Good luck,” Nick calls out, as Damiano walks out the door. As always, with two toddlers and a wife in his mid-twenties, he’ll need it.
Damiano cringes at the beep the key card makes, and again at the heavy latch on the hotel room door. He feels someone helping him open it quietly on the other side, and is met with Chiara’s face. Even in the spring, L.A. was warm enough for her to wear just a t-shirt to bed. It's one of his old Pink Floyd tees, fished out of the donate pile because it was 100% cotton. Her hair is half falling out of some updo, face bare of makeup,  no time for eyelash extensions.
He knew Chiara didn’t feel glamorous this way, but Damiano favored this unadorned look. It was the most accurate presentation of her physical form, and Damiano was devoted to her. He only preferred it more after Cosma and Icaro, because it was the way she looked when she cared for the babies they’d made. It was the way she looked when he’d made love to her and created those babies.
“How’d it go?” Chiara whispered, as she pulled open the door and Damiano stepped inside.
“Good, good. I missed you.” He pecked her on the lips addings “as always” to defuse any tension. Chiara would have been backstage clapping louder than the audience if she could, and Damano knew that. She ran the pads of her middle fingers along his jaw, tenderly, and he hungered for her. Damiano pulled her close with one hand, kissing Chiara and attempting to coax her mouth open so he could get a taste of her tongue. In an effort to be suave, he closed the door behind him with his other hand. The handle slipped from his fingers and the door slammed shut. Both of them froze completely, listening for the sound of cries, but hearing none. They let out a collective breath.
“Fuck, sorry,” Damiano whispered. Chiara smiled fondly in return.
“Fatherhood really messes with your rock star mojo. It's a good thing you didn’t wake them up,” Chiara moves her lips against Damiano’s ear, “because then I would have to kill you.” She bites down on his earlobe and gives him a light smack on the ass, turning to walk towards the bedroom. Damiano catches Chiara by her wrist and pulls her in for another kiss, slow and passionate.
“As much as I love the direction this is going, Leo is waking you up in seven hours and I doubt you’ll sleep through all of them.” Damiano lets out a frustrated groan. Chiara grabs his groin and gives a good squeeze, before whipping away fast enough that Damiano can’t catch her.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do with that,” asks Damiano, desperatly.
“Take some time off from the studio and you’ll find out.” She winks before turning back around again and sauntering towards the bedroom. “In the meantime, have fun in the shower.” It’s such a tease, but he deserves it a little bit. He doesn’t have any right to shuttle her and kids across the world, just to ignore them for L.A. producers. This is why he and Chiara work. She has a knack for getting her way without creating a battle of wills.
After a disappointing orgasm in the shower, Damiano thinks he may ask Chiara extremely nicely for some assistance with his libido if the moment presents itself. She’s totally passed out when he comes into the bedroom to change into sleep clothes. Chiara’s head is laying between the two pillows, face pressed into Damiano’s, mouth agape. He hopes she’ll drool so he can tease her about it.
Damiano hears little noises of upset from one of the nursery rooms, and goes to hold Icaro. He hasn’t spent any time with them today and he misses his babies with the ache of an unhealing wound in his chest. The pain is always the same, you just adapt. Damiano never understood how you could miss a baby. All they do is maintain a constant cycle of consuming calories and producing waste, crying intermittently. That was until he had his own children, at which point the separation was excruciating.
Icaro was already on his feet, reaching for his father when Damiano got to the crib. Maybe it was the weight of his footsteps or his smell, but Icaro recognized something before he even got in the room. It was that magical tether between parents and child, the one you get exhausted of people harping on about. Icaro’s face was screwed up in agitation, a couple of tears on his cheeks, reaching out to what he knew to be a source of comfort.
“Oh, come here,” Damiano cooed, lifting him out of the crib. Icaro was learning how to climb out of it himself, which had preemptively fried Damiano’s nerves. He twined one arm around his father’s neck, the other curiously grabbing the button of Damiano’s shirt. Damiano could feel the warmth of his tiny hand through the fabric. He bounced him, swaying side to side, and after a few seconds Icaro became too preoccupied and forgot the crying. His face relaxed and Damiano’s own eyes looked back at him. It was uncanny.
“Dadda,” he garbled.
“Yes, dadda,” Damiano confirmed, peppering his cheeks with kisses. When they’d decided to keep the baby, Damiano confessed to Chiara that he was afraid his own child would not recognize him. She promised him they wouldn’t let that happen.
“Yes,” echoed Icaro, sitting up to look around, then letting his head fall against his father’s chest. “Yes, dadda.” Damiano beamed. They’d become little people in a new capacity in the past month. They’d started to emotionally regulate, ask for what they wanted, use a word to communicate. There were so many more facial expressions, they’d run up and hug the legs of someone they liked, tugging on the fabric of their pants. Cosma did it almost every morning Damiano stood in the kitchen making breakfast. She’d let out a joyous giggle, then stomp her feet a couple times in a little celebratory dance. Damiano would mimic her, then she’d mimic him, back and forth until Cosma lost interest.
Damiano could feel his son fighting sleep. His hand would spazam a little then come back to rest on his father’s chest. Soon he was still, but Damiano kept moving just to make sure. There was something so comforting about holding a baby, or a cat, or a puppy. As if we were meant to cradle warm little beings in our arms, made to hold each other. The idea that a whole life could be contained in such a small embrace never failed to amaze Damiano. He carefully put Icaro back in his crib, supporting his head, covering him in a blanket he’d kick off.
He tiptoed back into the hall, ready for bed when he heard Cosma’s cries. Why did it always work like this? He rushed into Cosma’s room to pick her up before she woke Icaro. She continued to wail after he’d picked her up, pushing away at him. Icaro was an easy baby, Cosma...less so. He winced, knowing that the door was open, but heard it close behind him.
“I can take her, you go back to sleep Mr. David.” Gazala insisted on formally addressing him and Chiara.
“No, no, it's okay. I haven’t held them today.” Damiano went back to bouncing and swaying, trying to sooth Cosma with his movements.
“Okay. Let me know when you want help.” She puttered around the changing table for a moment, organizing what was already organized, probably waiting for him to change his mind.
“I’m fine. Thank you, Gazala.” She clicked her tongue in quiet disagreement, closing the door behind her. Damiano knew that their entire situation was abnormal. His amount of involvement was abnormal, and Cosma’s piercing wails weren’t doing him much credit. He shushed her, leaning down to smell her head. The smell was sweet, perfect and her hair downy soft on the tip of Damiano’s nose.
“Shh, you’re making daddy look bad.” It's like she understood and took it down a notch. That’s another thing: they’d started to develop reason. “Listen, you chill out, and I’ll let Gazala give you chocolate milk at lunch, instead of almond-coconut-whatever-the-fuck.” That one seemed to be a bit beyond her, but she’d moved to grabbing Damiano’s shirt in her fists, instead of trying to escape into midair. He hummed the melody to Walking After You by the Foo Fighters. Ocean sounds didn’t do anything to calm Cosma, but Dave Grohl’s vocals were, for reasons beyond Damiano, soothing. The tears had stopped, but she kept choking on her breaths and crying again.
Damiano lay back on the chaise lounge across from her crib, putting Cosma on his chest. This was the best way to normalize her breathing, out of instinct she’d eventually sync up with him. He ran a soothing hand up and down her back, at the pace of his breath. He switched to humming Everlong and Cosma’s fidgeting calmed. He could feel her breathing slow. He woke to Gazala lifting Cosma up and putting her back in her crib. He could see through the curtain that it was light out. Waking up in one of the kids' rooms, having fallen asleep in an uncomfortable position, didn’t even cause Damiano confusion anymore. He just accepted it.
“What time is it?”
“You have a couple hours until you have to wake,” Gazala answers. “You should go to bed Mr. David.” Damiano gets up to his feet, trying to locate the door. Gazala opens it for him. “Your bedroom is at the end of the hall on the right.” Another time this specificity would be funny, or even insulting, but Damiano does not have his bearing so right now it’s just helpful. He stumbles into the bedroom, still blinking hard. Chiara is such a light sleeper that she wakes.
“Dami?” She only has one eye open and is squinting from the brightness of the window. It's dawn.
“It’s fine,” he responds, collapsing on the bed. She nods once, seeking him out in the bed with her hand. When she finds him, he’s already asleep. She yanks the covers out from under him, pulling the comforter over then both. Damiano groans in dissent, until Chiara settles her head on his chest, where Cosma had lain just moments before. Damiano doesn’t need to open his eyes to know they have the exact same nose.
Notes: Thank you to @que--sera--sera and @lifeofa-fangirl for the name ideas! I'm not sure if this is fluff or just boring, but I tried. It's never proofread. I'm always accepting requests and ideas, but I don't take/respond to all of them. Chiara isn't intended to represent Dami's real partner. I don't know enough about G to write a character based on her. (But we are kind to G in this house!) Finally, how fucking gorgeous is Dami!? I love this pic because his face is deeply empathetic.
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tamat3v · 3 years
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req: hey mate sorry to like probably ruin your reputation here but can i request pseudo-incest dabi with like overstimulation and sadomasochism?
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❥• this was from my other acc, this req has been sitting and rotting for m o n t h s, i added my own twists and tweaks here and there [nah like actually a lot💔💔 the main kinks in highlight are still overstim and sadomasochism(ish for this one) so it’s not too bad] so i hope it is enjoyed. coming up with a title for this was living hell so i’ll figure it out later 🚶🏾
w/c: none, cus i’m trying straight up on tumblr, so help me god but it’s a pretty decent reading length i suppose
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Touya hated you- despised you for the very fact you walked the earth in his lifetime. You were the most cherished one, the sun of your parents and he was the other one, who’s name was apparently so unspeakable because he was the disappointment. He hated you, did everything in his power to show his mom and your dad that you were no good. He knew what you were, he heard all of those girls and boys screaming as you basically pounded them into your mattress every other night. Only he knew how you toyed with and threw away each and every single one of them after you had your fun and gotten your dick wet enough for the week.
Touya curses the ground you walk on. He abhors you so, then why is it that this time he’s slumped against his bed? Hearing the girl cry and you pant with his pants feeling too tight? Why, god tell him why he walked into the room, acting like it was a mistake. Why he screamed at the girl to get lost and it was a sight to behold, how she scrambled for her clothes and flew out the door like a hurricane.
You were seeing red at this point. You’d finally convinced her to get into your bed and that god forsaken raven head had to step in a mess up. You were livid, shirt crumpled slightly and raised up as you flung the other onto the bed, hand wrapped around his throat dangerously with ill intentions which pinned him flat to the bed and all he could do was struggle. “Touya, what the hell is wrong with you?”
Touya couldn’t tell you the answer but how he wondered the same thing. No normal person would like being brutally tossed to the bed, being choked heavy with all rage- which was absolutely deserved. The crown of the pile of issues was that his hard on was furious in his pants, straining against the fabric. This is wrong, all so wrong. You were brothers for goodness’ sake, you could literally kill him for goodness’ sake yet he liked the hurt and he wanted you even more. He tried to speak out but his words died long before in his throat all he could let out was a weak, failing sound- so pathetic. You were so sour at the pitiful face he was making but it soon turned into a bitter smile on your face. As much as you wanted to thrash him for butting in and stepping far out of line, you would just rock his shit differently.
Because little did he know that you knew what he did. Unlike your parents, you heard him beating his pathetic, weeping cock and mewling at the dead of night to his own step-brother. You had seen his book, pages filled with the most obscene and perverse desires and fantasies he had and you knew from that day on he was far worse than you would ever be. Something about that cruel upper hand you had over him just made your stomach twist and all the right ways, who were you to not use this golden opportunity that fate had dealt you?
“You know, Dabi, I’ve read that book of yours.” He immediately sprung to life, eyes popping out their sockets. “_____, I can explain, it’s really not what you think it is-“ There it was. You dropped one harsh and heavy handed slap on his cheek with no hesitation and he was silent, effective immediately. “I don’t remember asking you to talk, Touya-kun. I read each and ever single one of those pages. You’re so sick, you know that?” you spat, tone seething and acidic. “‘Bet you liked that slap, didn’t you? Being pressed up underneath me like this? I know who you are, Touya: a perverted whore.”
Oh how he was shaking under you, legs turning inwards with his thighs pressed so cutely together to quell the sweltering heat in his pants. He was dripping, tip pumping up those sinful tears non stop ‘till it was so sticky. Touya’s brain had switched off, eyes unfocused on you but a sharp slap to his thigh, right next to the throbbing hardness brought him back whimpering. You finally released his throat, purpled bruise marks adorning his skin as he choked in air, just for it to be knocked out of his chest when you flipped him onto his back.
“From now on until I decide I’m done with you, you have no say. Shut up and take it like the slut you are. I will not listen to you but I don’t think it’s need anyway. I know you’ll enjoy every single second of it like the freak you are.” You weren’t asking, simply stating. You ripped down his stupid, tacky pants and slid in, no warning needed. Touya was undone with that, tears stinging hard, his lower half even harder but he liked the pain- so much that he came immediately, crying out already and you were incredulous at the realization.
You slapped his ass harshly. He didn’t deserve your mercy, not that he wanted it anyways. His dark hair was disheveled as you began hammering into him relentlessly. He cried from the overstimulation- it hurt so good. His body was absolutely shredded and you were far from finished with him- so far from it. His mind was not computing the stimulation, he was numb but felt everything at the same time. Was this an out of body experience because this didn’t feel real at all. He was bordering consciousness when you squeezed another high from his spent body already.
What time was it now? Touya was lost in a different plane when you finally pulled out, daylight peaking through shut blinds and he was limp. He was beyond useless and he- he felt you push in once more and shredded attempt at a scream erupted from his torn up vocal box. “Oh? So you are still awake. You better be, you will take what I give you, Touya.”And you were so pleased with your work, yhe points in which you had hit on his body were bruising, heat still so close to the surface of his skin and it was perfect for you.
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danses-with-dogmeat · 3 years
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Howdy! I got an ask/react for the Fo4 companions! How would a romanced companion react to Sole (preferably female) doing things to make them feel 'stronger' or 'protective' over her? Some random examples: Sole "can't" open something and has to ask for help/Sole conveniently forgets her overcoat when she knows it's going to be cold out, etc. the little things :) (Extra thing: you don't have to but if you could go into a bit more depth for Deacon and Hancock's response that'd be great :D )
Okay, this was so. much. fun. I took a few... creative liberties with the prompt, but I hope it’s still in the realm of what you were looking for! And, of course, thank you so much for the ask! I hope you like it!
Cait: 
     Sole pressed a cold cloth to Cait's cheekbone, and she hissed at the pressure of the contact on her swollen cheek. 
"Shit, sorry, Cait." 
"Eh, I've had worse licks than this."
"I know, but still… this one is definitely my fault." 
"It's hardly yer fault, luv, I'm the one who got meself inte this."
"How? I'm the one who started the fight." Sole protested, pulling her hand back so she could look her companion in the eye. 
"Maybe, but I'm the one who gave you yer drinkin’ problem, and that's what got us inte the fight in the first place." Sole chuckled at that, shaking her head. The two had had this discussion what seemed like a hundred times, both trying to take the blame for the constant slew of bar fights that they found themselves getting into. 
Tonight, it had been four intoxicated men who had decided it was a neat idea to discuss the details of what they’d do to Cait if they could get her drunk enough. While the redhead hadn’t seemed to hear, Sole had briskly made her way over to the group to give her two cents on these ideas of theirs. So, Cait had a point, maybe if Sole hadn’t had quite so much whiskey, she could’ve tried to solve the problem more... verbally. But alas, her confrontation had officially started with her fist landing at the temple of the man nearest to her, effectively knocking him out. And it had ended with Cait hauling Sole to her feet after disposing of the man’s companions. 
Cait picked absent-mindedly at the scabs forming on her knuckles as Sole brought the wet rag up to her face once more, dabbing at the blood next to Cait's lip. 
"God, how is it that you always end up with the injuries? All I got was a bruise to the cheek, and yet, here you are, looking like a human punching bag."
"I can tell ya that. It's cus it's always me rushin' in te save your arse. Why do you always take on more than ye can handle?" Sole snickered, not knowing if Cait found her own words as amusing as she had. 
"Because, I know no matter how many assholes I take on, you'll always be there to save me." Cait made a disgusted sound, rolling her eyes at that, much like Sole thought she would, before letting her emerald gaze meet Sole's eyes. 
"I wish you weren't, but yer damn right." Cait said, and Sole felt a little jump in her chest at the sentiment. Cait wasn’t the most tender person in the wasteland, but somehow, she always seemed to know what to say; to Sole, anyway.
The pair sat silently for a bit as Sole finished cleaning up her defender. Wiping down her bloodied hands, and the remainder of the crusted crimson on her face.
"Are ya done fussin yet? I'm tellin’ you, I'm fine. Can we just go te sleep already?"
"One more spot left." She told her, bringing the rag up to her bruised face once more. Sole's eyes fell to Cait's swollen lips as she drew the cool fabric over them, before leaning in to press her mouth softly to Cait's. Sole pulled away, but stayed close enough for Cait to feel her warm, whiskey-tinged breath fan over her as she whispered, 
"Thank you for saving me tonight. I really was way in over my head." Sole looked down, embarrassed at her admission, as Cait smiled at her. 
"It was my pleasure, luv. As you said, I'll always be there te save yer arse." 
Curie: 
     "You know, you don't have to come to me for something as small as zhis." Curie said as she examined the minor cut on Sole’s arm. “You could patch zhis up yourself easily!” 
“Well…” Sole felt heat rise to her cheeks as she searched for an explanation. She knew that every time she came to Curie for something like this, she was taking up the doctor’s precious time, but she couldn’t help herself. What was she supposed to do when Curie insisted on working all day when they were at a settlement? They usually came to settlements to relax, to help make repairs and look into any problems the settlers might be having, but Curie always insisted on doing check-ups for everyone in their vicinity. Sole loved her selflessness and dedication to her work, but… When were they supposed to spend time together? This is what I get for having a workaholic for a girlfriend.
“You know, infection is a big problem out here. I just thought it would be best to seek the help of a professional.” 
“Oh, of course, of course. How responsible of you.” Sole bit at her lip as Curie laughed at her. Well, she really has caught onto the whole ‘sarcasm’ thing.
 “Fortunately, you do not need to worry about infection in zhis, it iz not deep. But come here, with me.” Curie urged Sole off of the cot she was seated on and brought her to a table at the back of the clinic. 
“Wait here, se vous plait.” With that, Curie disappeared around the corner, and Sole stood around, twiddling her thumbs, as she tried to think of an excuse to get Curie off of work early. 
“I was going to clean my supplies with zhis, but we can do your arm first.” Curie said as she came around the corner, a bucket of soapy water in-hand. 
“Here.” Curie set the bucket onto the table and had Sole hold out her arm as she produced a clean rag from the pocket of her lab coat, and dunked it into the warm water. Sole watched as Curie wrung out the cloth, and brought it to the miniscule wound on her arm. 
It was comical, really, the care that Curie took in cleaning the cut that couldn’t have been more than an inch long, and was almost too thin to see. Another rush of heat made its way to Sole’s cheeks as she realized how ridiculous she must seem to the doctor, but Curie made no complaints as she used the other side of the rag to dry off her arm. 
“Zhere! It should be all better. I can wrap it for you too, if you’d like.” 
“Thanks Curie, you’re a lifesaver. But I don’t think you really need to wrap it.” The synth laughed at her as she threw the rag into a basket and picked up the bucket again. 
“Oh, mon dieu, I don’t know about zhat.” She shook her head, a pink tint coming to her pale cheeks at Sole’s flattery as she turned to go into the back of the clinic again. 
“Wait!” Sole said, reaching out her “good” arm to stop Curie before she could vanish around the corner once more. Curie looked at her, a questioning expression on her face. Sole stood, her hand still wrapped around Curie’s forearm, utterly at a loss of what to say. I just don’t want you to go. It’ll be another four hours until you get off. 
I think you should take a break?
Maybe you should have a half day?
Do you need some help here at the clinic? God, when did I become so damn clingy?
“Hmm.” Curie’s eyes pierced into Sole’s as a knowing look washed over her face. “I zhink I know what it is you want.” Sole just stared ahead, wondering silently if that were true. The doctor set down the bucket yet again, delicately taking a hold of Sole’s “injured” arm once more. Slowly, she brought it upwards, then lowered her head to place her lips gently over the cut. “Iz zhat better?” 
Sole giggled, still embarrassed, but definitely glad she had come to interrupt Curie’s work. I guess I can wait a little longer. Maybe make us a nice dinner for tonight...
“Much. Thanks again, Curie.” 
“Of course! Anytime, mon amour.”
Danse: 
     Sole sat at the kitchen table, draining the last of her coffee as her gaze fell to Danse, where he was seated on the steps outside the front door of her Sanctuary home. He stared ahead blankly, brows knitted together above his lusterless eyes as his hands worked to remove a spot of rust from a piece of power armor he had taken off his suit temporarily. Lately, the ex-paladin had been adept in putting on a show for Sole, making her think that he was okay, even after everything that had changed in his life over the course of a few hours. It had been over a week since he had found out about his true identity, and in that time,  Sole could tell that he had tried to remain strong. For whom, she wasn’t sure. She thought she had made it clear to him that she didn’t care about his “strength” in these times, she just wanted him to get through them, whatever the means. Yet, he only seemed to don this look of despair and hopelessness whenever he thought she wasn’t looking, and if she tried to bring it up, he would always attempt to change the subject, or he would tell her not to worry and simply say that he was still working on “adjusting.” 
She hated when he didn’t talk to her. The seemingly insensitive man was always happy to listen to Sole’s problems and offer what advice he could, often suggesting that she discuss her own issues as a form of therapy. But God forbid she tries to get him to do the same. Sole sighed as she mulled over what to do, and noticed Danse’s head twitch to the side, listening, before his gaze dropped down to focus on his task.
He’s been working on that same spot for almost an hour. If it’s not out yet, I don’t think it ever will be. Sole looked around the room, trying to find something that could possibly serve as a proper distraction for Danse, and her eyes fell to the wooden stereo below the window in the living room. She had left it there because she simply didn’t have the heart to scrap the old thing. Too many good memories surrounded it. Memories of her and Nate, dancing the night away as the records spun on and on playing soft love songs until the sun rose; of her rocking Shaun in her arms as she mosied around the living room, listening to the nursery rhyme vinyls that she had received as gifts at her baby shower... But those memories, they were from another life.
Sole shook her head. This is about him, she thought, not me. I can deal with my shit later. Right now, I need to focus on Danse.
She huffed another sigh, this time a bit louder, and watched as Danse ceased his hand movements and tilted his ear towards her again.
“Is everything alright?” He turned to look at where she sat, and Sole tried to look melancholic.
“It’s just… You know… nevermind, it’s not important.” Just as she assumed he would, Danse stood up and walked inside the house, setting the piece of armor and the rag on the table, and pulled out a chair so he could sit beside her. He looked down at her hands, which rested on top of the table near her empty coffee mug. She could practically see the sweat beading on his forehead as he hesitantly brought one of his large hands to rest over the top of her own. Ever since he found out what he was, he’s been afraid to touch me. So... this is a good sign, at least.
“If something’s wrong, I want to know.” He said as he looked up to meet her gaze, his worried expression matching the concern she was feeling towards him. Sole took a breath to appear as though she was steadying herself.
“It’s just… being in this house. It’s great, I mean, it’s still my home and everything, and I don’t want to go anywhere else, but…” she trailed off, her troubled expression only half-feigned at this point, given the truth behind her words. His eyes never wavered, silently encouraging her to continue.
“Some things are harder to look at than others. And that damn stereo over there just has to be staring straight at me every time I sit down at the table, it’s the hardest one for me to see. It's just, it was a house-warming present from my parents. They gave it to me and Nate after the wedding, and now… well, there are no more records to play on it. They were all ruined, and even if they weren't, I don’t think the thing would work anyway. But every time I see it, it reminds me of the people I’ve lost. My parents… Nate… even Shaun.” Sole didn’t have to fake the tears that came unbidden to her eyes as she recalled the memories of her loved ones, and she knew Danse hadn’t missed a thing when he started rubbing her hand softly with his. They sat there in silence for a moment, as Danse tried to reassure her with his gentle touch.
Then, still remaining silent, Danse stood, reaching his hand forward to brush his thumb over Sole’s cheek, wiping away the tear that had fallen. He then turned towards the living room, but instead of going straight to the stereo, as Sole thought he might, Danse opened the side door that led to the covered driveway. She watched as he doubled back, now approaching the stereo. Sole wasn’t sure what she had expected him to do when she mentioned her problem to him; maybe offer to help her take the thing apart, or try and see if it still worked, or simply give her another perspective on how she should view the piece of 200-year-old furniture. Whatever she expected, it certainly hadn’t been this. 
Danse squatted down in front of the large wooden beast of a stereo, wrapped his broad arms almost all the way around it, and stood, lifting the whole damn thing up until he was standing completely upright with the stereo held firmly to his chest. Sole’s mouth hung open as she remained seated at the table, seemingly paralyzed by the shock of what she was witnessing, as Danse sauntered awkwardly towards the exit. A thick vein protruded from his neck as he twisted the piece of furniture to fit through the door, and made his way out into the driveway.
Sole heard a groan from outside, accompanied by the sound of something hard hitting concrete. She stood up, prepared to head outside and see what exactly he’d done with her “problem,” but before she reached the doorway, she heard him call from outside,
“You can’t still see it, can you?”
“Um… no. But Danse, is it-- I mean, are you okay? It took like, four people to bring that thing in when we first moved it to the house.” The brawny ex-soldier appeared in the doorway, his chest still heaving from the effort of wrestling the wooden monster outside. He nodded to her,
“I'm fine." He huffed, "You don’t need to go out there. I’ll take it apart later, if you’d like. Or we can store it somewhere for the time being.” She shook her head at him, a little smile touching her lips. Even after everything he’s been through, he's still always looking out for me. Even with something as small and insignificant as this.
“You know,” she said quietly, “you didn’t have to do that.” Danse looked down at his feet, seemingly searching for something to say in response.
“But thank you.” Sole finished, and his eyes came back up to meet hers. For a moment, she saw a spark return to Danse’s amber eyes as the smallest hint of a smile softened his expression, and Sole felt hope. Hope for him overcoming his grief in this time of crisis, and hope for herself in being able to move on from the memories that had kept her chained to her past for so long. Together, she felt like the two of them could overcome anything.
Deacon:
     “Yes. Two please.” Sole said as Takahashi voiced the only question he ever seemed to ask. The robot placed two bowls of scrumptious smelling power noodles in front of her, and she reached for the bag of caps hanging from her belt. As she looked down to count her money, she heard a clatter of bottlecaps hitting the counter beside her.
“Got it covered. Come on, let’s dig in.” Deacon grabbed a bowl in each hand and headed over to a couple of empty seats at the bar.
“I thought you were still trying to stay undercover?" Sole gestured to the Diamond City guard outfit that the spy donned. "Doesn’t it kinda ruin the illusion if you’re seen in public with me?” She said as she followed him over, sealing up her cap purse once again.
“What? You’ve never seen one of these guys at the noodle stand? Cuz I sure have. Just don’t talk to me, and I’ll be good.” Sole shook her head as she took a seat beside him, instantly deciding to ignore his request.
“Hey officer, I’ve got a question.” Sole swirled her chopsticks around the steaming bowl in front of her, before taking a bite.
“Yes, citizen?”
“Hold on--” she said through a mouthful of noodles.
Deacon laughed as he looked at her full mouth,
“Why--” He tried to talk through his bout of chuckling, “Why would you say you’re going to ask me a question and then take a big bite of food? What did you think would happen?”
Deacon thought he heard her tell him to ‘shut up,’ but it was hard to tell, given the noodles that filled her mouth, and the fact that she was nearly choking in her own fit of laughter.
Eventually, she managed to swallow her food successfully, and was finally able to get some words out.
"No, okay, serious question--" Deacon interrupted her with a snap of his fingers,
"Serious answer." Her genuine curiosity forced Sole to ignore him, and continue with her question.
"Tell me, why do you always pay for everything?" She asked.
"Ma'am, I am a law-abiding security officer. I always pay for the products that I intend to consume."
"I said serious, Deacon."
"Hey, shush!" He brought a hand up to Sole's mouth at the mention of his name, "What part of undercover did you not get?" She cocked a brow at his faked panic expression, noting the grin that he was trying to hide, as he lowered his head and turned back to his noodles.
"Like, okay," she continued, expanding on her inquiry, "whenever we go anywhere, you always pay for everything, and it's really odd. I've never met anyone in the wasteland who's done that, everyone's too busy trying to keep themselves alive to worry about paying for others. So, what? Are you, like, rich or something? I mean, c'mon, what's the deal? I have caps on me all the time, you know that, right?"
"Oh?" Sole saw his eyebrows rise above the tops of his sunglasses as he turned to look at her, "you don't think I'm doing this out of the goodness of my cold, black, heart, do you? No, I'm running a tab over here, honey. You owe me, big time." Sole narrowed her eyes at him, her uncertainty keeping her lips sealed.
"You mean, you didn’t know? Look, I don't know what to tell you," Deacon continued, "I thought you knew! Man, I'm glad you found out this way. Now it won't be such a rude awakening when the invoice comes."
Deacon turned back to his noodles, shaking his head at the thought. Sole's gaze bore into him, trying to figure out his level of seriousness. I really wish I was better at this. This is why I believed he was a synth for a month and a half.
"And if I don't have the money… you're not gonna call out a hit on me or anything, are you?"
“Hmm," he brought a hand to his chin, stroking his finger over it animatedly, "surely there must be some way you could pay me back…” He turned to look at her, wiggling his eyebrows as he did so, and she rolled her eyes, looking back to her noodles as she scoffed.
"Hey! What's with the face! I was talking about community service. Y'know, helping the children, and the elderly, all that good stuff. Get your mind out of the gutter, perv. And to think, I was going to have you volunteering at the children's hospital next week."
Sole instantly regretted taking another bite, as she tried desperately to fend off a fit of giggling in an effort to keep from choking again.
"I can't keep up with you Deacon," she said as she swallowed her food. "You're gonna kill me one of these days."
"Eh, don't worry, I can pay for the funeral." Sole raised a hand and shoved him in the shoulder playfully as he grinned at her.
"Okay, really, though. You do know I can pay occasionally, right?"
"Yeah, I know, I'm your partner, remember? I'm pretty much right next to you whenever you get paid.”
"So… then, why do you do it?"
"Do what?" Sole's nostrils flared at his obnoxious question.
"No? Joke didn’t land? Okay. Serious time," he flung his hands in the air as if surrendering, "I read about something… wasn't it, like, customary before the war to pay for stuff for your… friends?" Sole scrunched her eyebrows in thought,
"Friends? Not really. Significant other? Yeah, a little more common." She looked to where Deacon stared down at his noodles.
Is that, is he... blushing?
"But hey, I don't mind if you don't." She finished, tilting her head forward, in an attempt to catch Deacon's eye. She spotted a flushed little grin spread on his face, before he leaned his head back, restoring his cool composure.
"Oopsies, sorry about that, then. But I did warn you, I'm pretty new to this whole friend thing. So… you know, that's on you."
Hancock: 
     The ghoul lounged comfortably on the couch in the Old State House, idly playing with his combat knife as he waited for Sole to finish readying herself for their outing.
“Ahhh!” 
Hancock leapt from his place on the couch at the sound of Sole’s shriek, his combat knife instinctively falling into a position poised for violence.
He ran across the hall, crashing through the door and into the bedroom. Teeth bared and eyes wide, his head lashed from side to side in search of Sole’s assailant. He spotted her, cowering in the corner as she raised a shaky hand to point at the opposite side of the room.
Hancock’s glare followed Sole’s fear-stricken gaze, and he started towards the desk in the corner she had pointed to, but ultimately failed to see what it was causing her distress.
He turned back to her, an eyebrow cocked, as he raised the silent question of what had been the cause of her terror.
“On the desk!” She said, pointing towards it again, this time with greater intensity. Hancock slowly approached the corner of the room, knife still at the ready, as his eyes continued to search for any sign of… well, anything, really. An exasperated smile spread across his lips as his eyes fell to your attacker. A small, brown, spider picked its way through the objects littering the top of the desk, and Hancock had to hold back a laugh. 
“This is what had you all riled up? Oh, sweetheart, he’s just a little spider. C’mon now, he won’t hurt ya.”
“You don't know that.” She said firmly, her round eyes still trained on the desk. It had sounded like a joke, but her expression remained serious.
“Alright, you want me to get rid of him for you?” She nodded her head vigorously, and he chuckled as he turned his attention to the unsuspecting arachnid. He watched as it delicately stepped over a series of writing utensils, and Hancock frowned. Bringing his knife up to the top of the desk, he rested the flat of his blade directly in the spider’s path,
“That’s it, up you go, little guy.” He said quietly, as it stepped onto his steel vessel. Hancock twisted the knife around in his grip as the spider crawled around it, and made his way to the balcony. Once outside, he tipped his knife to the railing, encouraging the spider to crawl off the tip of the blade. Once the spider was safely making its way along the top of the railing, Hancock turned back towards the doorway.
“There,” he said, stepping back inside, “Now he can’t hurt ya, he’s all the way out there.”
“You… you didn’t kill it?” She asked, tentatively standing up.
“Nah, we only hurt the ones who hurt somebody else first, remember?”
“You don’t know that he didn’t hurt anybody.” She mumbled as Hancock sauntered over to her.
“Aw, give him a chance, maybe he can change, y’know? He doesn't really seem like the troublemaking type to me, anyhow.” He brought his hands to your waist, a smug expression playing on his face.
“Oh yeah, just like the way you always tell people you’ve changed?” She said, sliding her hands up his chest to rest them on his shoulders. “Way I see it, you’re still just as bad an influence on me as when I met you.” She said, a playful glint dancing in her eyes.
“Hmm, maybe you’re right, sunshine. Maybe I can't change any more. Maybe it's just my nature to be a bad influence on you.” He said quietly, a wolfish grin spreading across his face as he leaned into her. 
“Huh, maybe so. But bad influence or not," she pulled away from him slightly, to look up into his smoky eyes, "you really did save me back there. And, I know it seems silly... but I am grateful." His eyes softened at her little confession and, though he knew this too was silly, he couldn’t help but feel a swell in his chest at the thought of "saving" her. 
“And I’ll always be here to save you... from any spiders we happen to come across.” He pecked her lips tenderly, their close proximity practically forcing his mouth to hers. He should’ve known better, once he had a taste, he couldn’t get enough of her. 
“Even though,” He continued, as he pressed a kiss to her nose, “I’ve seen you,” then to her right cheek, “take down,” now her left, “deathclaws,” another to her jaw, “single handedly,” and now down to her neck, “I’ll be sure to handle all the unruly arachnids.” He whispered into the crook of her neck, before moving upwards again and pressing one more kiss to her forehead. He watched, grinning like an idiot in love, as a crimson flush crept up her cheeks. He wasn’t sure if it was from the embarrassment she felt regarding her phobia, or from the heat of his lips on her skin, but he decided it didn’t matter. Either way, he found it irresistibly adorable, and with that, he set his sights on her lips once more. 
MacCready: 
     MacCready sat on the floor, legs crossed, as he counted his ammunition cartridges. There were four of the .308, six of the .50, ten of the 10mm, and a few of the .38. There certainly wasn’t as much as he’d hoped there’d be, but he wasn't worried. Sole always seemed to have ammo to spare, and she wasn't stingy with it like he was. It was yet another perk to being with her.
He gathered his full magazines together near the ammo bag resting beside him, so he could begin placing them inside in preparation for their next outing.
"How are you doing over there, babe?" He asked as he stored the outlying bullets in little bags.
"I think... you know what, nevermind. I'm good." MacCready ceased his action, turning to look at where Sole knelt on the carpet of her Diamond City home. A pile of bullets and empty magazines surrounded her, the stack of seemingly full cartridges was pitifully small compared to his own.
"You, ah, need some help?"
"... No.” 
"Mmhm, okay.” he narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, but she wouldn’t look up at him.
“Well,” he continued, “I'm going to put my full mags in the ammo bag, why don't I grab yours too." The sniper stood up, and made his way over to her, bending down to grab the cartridges that looked full.
"Wait! No, these, um, these ones aren't done yet." MacCready's eyebrows furrowed, but the shadow of a smile began to spread to his lips as he realized what was going on.
"So," he said, kneeling down so he could see her pretty little embarrassed face. "You haven't finished loading any of them?"
“No." She said quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. MacCready lowered his head so that he was looking up at her as her eyes stayed fixed on the floor. A lock of hair was draped over her forehead, obstructing his view. He reached a hand up and gently pushed it behind her ear, leaning in to give her nose a small peck with his lips.
"You want some help?" He said as Sole raised her gaze to meet his, a small blush forming on her cheeks. She didn't say anything, only nodded yes.
"Alright, you know, you could’ve just asked. I might have said ‘no’ the first time, but you know me, I eventually would’ve come around." MacCready said as he set to work with the magazines that had appeared full, but in reality, only housed half of the amount of ammunition that they could fit within them. He snickered in understanding, it really was the second half of bullets that was hard to load.
"Thank you, sweetie. You’re just so much better at it than I am." She said as she watched his practiced fingers make quick work of what probably would've taken her another hour.
"Of course... but, you are paying me for this, right?"
"Ohh, I think we might be able to work something out." She said, a sly grin playing at her lips.
He just chuckled at her words, but she could've sworn his fingers starting moving a whole lot faster at her suggestive phrasing.
Nick: 
“Tell me, why is this now a regular part of my job duties?" Ellie asked as she finished sewing up yet another tear in Nick's trench coat. "You know you're just going to end up with more holes in this coat every time you leave the office, and I don't seem to recall you ever caring about this old thing's appearance before…" she trailed off.
Nick knew that Ellie was fishing for answers. One specific one in particular, but he liked the ambiguity of the situation. It was this little game he and his secretary would play. He would leave clues here and there that pointed to the nature of his and Sole's relationship and wait to see if Ellie would say anything. All while she continued to try and force the truth from him verbally. He wasn't going to lose this round.
"What? A private detective can't keep up appearances for his clients? I think it's just good for business."
"I think it's a load of bologna. You know we gave Sole her own trench coat after she saved you, right? She could just wear her own, rather than steal yours every time you two go out on a case."
"What kinda fun would that be? I don't mind it, it's not like I get cold anyway. And the poor little lady never knows how long we're going to be gone, so I don't think it's her fault when we're out after dark and she wants to wear it."
Ellie rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh as she poked the needle back through the worn, beige fabric once again.
"She's got you so tightly wound around her finger, it's a wonder she doesn't call you 'Jared'."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I don't know, it’s something I’ve read about, I guess it was a ring shop, or a jewelry company, or something before the war. I thought it sounded clever. Just humor me, won't you?"
The synth just shook his head, uttering a low chuckle as he watched Ellie tighten the thread, forcing the last hole closed.
"There." She said, tying up the last bit of string left over, before cutting off the excess. "It's done." 
"Perfect, thanks a million, doll. I'll see you soon, I've just gotta head out for a--"
"Date?" She finished the sentence for him suggestively, raising her eyebrows in question.
"A case. We're going to head out on a case, Ellie."
"Uh huh, sure. Well, here," she handed him back the coat, "now she doesn't need to worry about the cold air seeping in through all those holes. Let me know if you want me to insulate the damn thing when winter rolls around."
Valentine smiled, an uncharacteristically goofy smile, at Ellie's words. He was so obvious, why didn't he just come clean already? 
"Will do, I’m sure she’ll enjoy that. Thanks again, Ellie. You're the best."
"And don't you forget it." She said, turning back to the mound of paperwork still on her desk beside her sewing supplies.
“Ah well, I’ll get him to admit to it one of these days.” Ellie mumbled as she began sorting through the files in front of her.
Piper:
     Piper looked up at Scarlet from the table in the corner of the Dugout Inn, 
"Yes, so I think we'll both have a nuka cola to start off. Then I'll do the crispy squirrel bits, and she'll have the Salisbury steak." Piper pointed her finger to Sole, who was busy looking down at the table, before making a last-minute decision, "Aaand you'd better bring some of those snack cakes at the end, too." 
"Hm, as usual." Scarlet chuckled at that as her pen scribbled across the notepad in her hand. 
"But that sounds good, you two. I'll have that out in just a minute." The waitress grabbed their menus, Sole reaching up to hand it to her with a smile on her face before turning to peer at her partner from across the table. She waited for Scarlet to disappear around the corner to the kitchen before speaking.
"You really don't find it annoying?" She asked. 
"What?" Piper loosened the scarf around her neck as she looked questioningly at Sole. 
"I know that I ask you to order for me whenever we go out to eat, or drink, and it's gotta be getting a little old at this point, right?" 
"No, not at all, Blue!" Piper said as she took her hat off and placed it on the table, mussing her hair a bit with one hand. "This reporter actually finds it to be pret-ty endearing. It's like, the one thing you can't do. You’re good at, like, everything else, but this I get to help you with. It's a welcome change." Piper's hands dropped to the top of the table as she began absent-mindedly fiddling with her silverware. But her eyes stayed on the woman across the table as Sole smiled at her, still appearing a little embarrassed. 
"I don't know why I can't do it," Sole tried to explain, "I've just never been able to order for myself, even before the war. Just one of those bizarre anxiety things, I guess."
"Well, like I said, I don’t mind at all. In fact, I think it's cute." 
 Preston:
     Sole approached her Lieutenant, shaking her head at him, and she saw him sigh.
“No, the river just keeps going until it reaches a ravine." She told him, "And it’s too steep to climb down. Any luck on your end?”
“Hmm, not really. It's a little more shallow upstream, but it’s still about ten feet wide.”
“Damn.” She said, “We need to get across.” A settlement had sent a distress call across radio freedom almost an hour ago, if Sole and Preston took any longer, they might be too late.
“I guess we’ll just have to go for it.” She said, her face painting a picture of clear disgust at the thought of wading through the murky water.
“Well, let’s at least head upstream a bit. To the shallow part.”
“Okay.” Sole said begrudgingly, her footsteps unconsciously heavy as she followed her companion to the shallow part. Not shallow enough, I bet.
And she was right. As the pair arrived, Preston turned to Sole to gauge her reaction, noticing the way her nose wrinkled at the sight of the brown, swirling water.
Preston heaved a sigh, and started forward. Before he reached the waterline, he turned to see Sole still standing back, feet seemingly glued to the muddy ground. He couldn’t help but smile sympathetically at her, eyebrows creasing upwards as he watched her eyes look longingly at the far shore.
“Come here.” He said.
“I know, I know. Just start going, I’ll follow.” Preston chuckled at the exasperation in her voice. Instead of repeating his command, he simply walked over to her as her eyes remained locked on the other side of the river, when he reached her, he slowly pressed his hand to the small of her back.
“Hey, what are you--?” Before Sole could finish her question, Preston had scooped her up into his arms, bridal style. She let out a squeak of surprise, and he couldn’t keep himself from grinning.
“Is this okay? He asked, the brim of his hat pressing against Sole’s forehead as he looked at her.
“A warning would’ve been nice.” Preston laughed, shaking his head as he adjusted his grip on her, ensuring she was secure before making his way towards the river.
“Hold onto me.” He said, and Sole wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders.
“Ready?” Sole nodded to him, and Preston took a step forward, frigid water seeping in through his boots as he waded in.
“Wait, are you sure you want to do this?” She said, her eyes trained on the river as it raised up to Preston’s knees.
“I might be wrong, General, but I think I already am.” He said, the amusement in his voice faint as he gritted his teeth against the cold.
She felt his body shutter as he continued forward, the water reaching up almost to his waist, as he held Sole up higher to ensure it wouldn’t reach her. She let out a small sigh of relief as they reached the end of the channel. The water became more shallow, and Preston quickened his pace with each step that brought him closer to their destination.
Once completely out of the water, and past the muddy shoreline, Preston finally set Sole down gently. As her feet touched the ground, Sole kept her arms wound about Preston’s neck.
“Thank you, love.” She said, her voice soft as she addressed him as her partner rather than her Lieutenant.
“It was my pleasure, m’lady.” He said, briefly removing his hat from his head as he did so. Sole smiled at him warmly, but detected the faint chattering of his teeth, and when she looked down, she couldn’t help but notice the goosebumps littering his skin. 
“Oh, Preston…” Sole said as she pressed herself to him, rubbing her hands against his back and arms quickly, in an attempt to warm him with her friction. She felt hot air wash over her neck as he released a shaky breath of relief, leaning into her touch. The pair stood there for a moment, Preston syphoning off Sole’s warmth as she tried to repay him for his earlier act of kindness. Her hands slowed from her vigorous rubbing to a more tender sort of touch, before Preston’s head shot up.
“Shit, Sole, the settlement! We’ve got to move!”
X6-88: 
     This had become a common routine of theirs, and X6 wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it. Every time they were in Sole’s Diamond City home, she would insist on making dinner for the two of them. That, X6 didn’t mind too much; although, after consuming nothing but food supplements in the Institute for so long, it did take some getting used to. But eating the food wasn’t the issue, it was the making of it that had him perplexed. 
As far as he knew, Sole had been the one to install the shelves in her kitchen; and yet, every time she was in need of a spice of some sort, or a condiment, or one of her dishes, she would ask X6 for assistance, given that the shelves were apparently too high for her to reach. Why Sole continued to store her items on the too-tall shelves, he couldn’t begin to guess. But here she went again, asking him to reach for the box of blamco mac n’ cheese on the top shelf, the highest one, one that he could barely even reach. X6 decided it was time to voice his confusion.
“Ma’am?”
“Yes?” She asked distractedly as she focused on the strength of the flame burning on her stove.
“Why do you use these shelves?”
“What else would I use, silly?” X6 scrunched up his face at that, trying to hold back a verbal scoff at her wording.
“Would you rather I just store everything on the floor?”
“Well, no. That would… hardly be sanitary.” He wasn’t sure if she was joking with him or not. Did she think he was joking with her?
“Why do you ask, X?” She grabbed the box from his hand as he extended it towards her, and began tearing at the top of it with her finger.
“Well, it seems nonsensical to me, for you to continue placing all of your items out of your reach. What happens if I’m not here?” Sole placed a saucepan filled with water over the stove and turned to look at him.
“But you are here.” she said, shrugging, “What? Don’t you like helping me out in the kitchen?”
X6 blinked. What the hell did this have to do with what he liked?
“Well… I don’t dislike it. I’m just having trouble with-- I don’t-- I just... do you want me to fix the shelves so they are the right height for you?”
“No, I like them the way they are.”
X6 felt his eye twitch from beneath his shades. Confusion built up inside him, making the courser feel as though he might explode.
“Ma’am--” His voice faltered as he realized he didn’t know what else to say.
“I know they’re not practical, X. But you can reach them, and I like that about them. Even when I’m here alone, the fact that I can’t make dinner without you makes me smile.” X6 furrowed his eyebrows. That explanation didn’t help at all.
“Don’t you get hungry?”
“I'm not completely helpless, you know, I can usually figure something out.” She attempted to look annoyed at his question, but her grin gave her away. X6 narrowed his eyes at her, still not completely satisfied with the way the conversation had gone. He was still just as confused as he was before.
“Huh.” He said, mulling over all she had said on the subject. “Perhaps... in that case, we should ensure that I am by your side for any missions near Diamond City. That way, I can be sure the future director of the Institute doesn’t go hungry.”
“Well, if you think that’s necessary, who am I to argue?” The left side of X6’s lip tilted upwards in an expression of amusement, and Sole openly smiled at him, laughing a little to herself as she turned her attention back to the boiling water on the stove.
“Can you hand me the pepper mill? Second shelf.”
“I know which shelf. But yes, I can.” He said, turning around to grab it, as Sole continued grinning to herself.
Now I just have to make sure he never looks under my bed. Sole thought. If X6 ever found the step stool she had hidden there, what would happen to her kitchen helper?
320 notes · View notes
fggtwrmz · 3 years
Text
✞ pretty little sinner ✞
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Hihi!! Taz here with this accounts first ((technically second)) post! This ones a full fic so it’s v lengthy
warnings: dubcon, noncon is you squint, size kin, dirty talk, talk of breeding, oral, religious themes, degradation, dumbification, dacryphilia, talk of corruption, did i mention degradation? cus we went a lil ham on degration, very rough in general, no like seriously kuroos hella mean here
please mind the warnings and leave if your uncomfortable with any listed!!
wc: 7.6k
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The whole small town that you had lived in had known you and your parents as the perfect catholic family, and why would they have any reason to not believe that? After all, you were always such a good girl. The pride and joy of your parents’ lives, you did good in school, never complained about chores, and attended church every Sunday. That’s right, you were the perfect little catholic school girl. 
That's what drew you into him. 
You looked so innocent, so pure, so breakable, he just had to have you. 
And that cute little cross necklace you wore to show your faith? He just wanted to rip it off of you. Have you worship him instead. 
When you had spoken to him you didn’t imagine what he would actually be like. He’d put up such a sweet facade. But that's all it was. 
A facade. 
“What’s someone as pretty as you doing in a place like this, Dollface?” Came out the velvety voice of the walking personification of temptation himself; Kuroo Tetsuro. 
You had heard about him through whispered rumors throughout the halls. He had an infamous reputation. But rumors were just that. Rumors.
So you humored him. 
“At….The corner store? I’m getting snacks, what does it look like?” You had to giggle. It was such a foolish question. So foolish that you didn’t know the weight that it had held. 
He had you hook, line, and sinker, you were just too innocent to realize. And he had been oh so sweet to accept your invitation to church on Sunday! Of course, you had to ask him, the house of God was as good a place to get to know someone as any. Much better than a dingy corner store anyway. 
His words were sweet and charming, even for just a small chat. There was a look on his face that made you suspect something, but the way he spoke pushed your suspicions. 
So when Sunday came and you saw him waiting for you at the door, in what appeared was his normal attire, you still gave him a big smile and waved him over to where you and your parents were. 
“Kuroo! You made it!” You wanted to embrace him in a hug, but you felt that would be a little too familiar for someone you had only met yesterday at a convenience store. “Of course I made it, I wouldn’t blow someone as cute as you off.” He spoke, caressing your cheek. 
Of course he wasn't nervous about being too familiar. 
You felt the warmth rush to your cheeks, the affection catching you off guard. 
“Sorry if I seem a bit underdressed.”  He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, though it seemed as if he didn’t care. His attire could be deemed inappropriate for a church setting. His ripped jeans, loose-fitting button-up shirt, Jordan Retros, contrasting with your pure white short sleeve blouse, frilly plaid green and black skirt, and shining black Mary Janes, and of course that shiny cross necklace that hung so prettily from your neck. 
You giggled, “No worries! I’m sure if you had shown up naked the lord wouldn’t turn you away.” 
And there you went again, going on about how the lord would love anyone, sinner or saint. He’d wondered how you would react if you knew the sins he had committed, had planned to commit. 
He wondered what filthy sins such a precious girl like you were hiding under that short little skirt of yours. 
He couldn’t wait to find out. 
You had taken your seat in the far back pews, opting to sit in between him and your parents. You’d been paying attention to your pastor, up until you felt a warm, calloused hand rest itself on your thigh. 
You looked up with a curious look, but Kuroo seemed to be more focused on the word of the holy father than you, so you relaxed at his touch. Keyword; seemed. 
And that wasn’t all he was planning to do, unfortunately for you. 
He rubbed up and down your upper thigh, occasionally squeezing the soft flesh between your skirt’s end and your thigh highs beginning, pushing your skirt just a little higher up your thighs to get more space. 
At that moment you thought you'd absolutely die if your parents looked over at the sinful act that was going on between you two, but when you looked over they were both too caught up in the pastor’s prayer to notice anything. 
His hand moved inward, causing your breath to hitch. His fingers practically brushed against your core, causing you to let out a gasp. It was loud enough for just him to hear but low enough to where your parents wouldn’t suspect anything. 
You placed a hand on his wrist, signaling it was not the time for this. He simply flashed a smirk, never looking down your way. His fingers made their way to your panties, gently rubbing against your folds, you ended up dampening the garments in the process. 
You sucked in your breath, now holding onto his wrist with a feverish grip, notifying him just how on edge you were. 
“Time for the communion! Everyone, form a line, children, teenagers, then adults.” Father announced.
You let out a breath you weren't aware you were holding in. 
Your pastor had just saved you from eternal damnation. 
You and Kuroo walked in line, behind a couple of kids and in front of a few more teens. He rubbed down your shoulders and arms, sending chills down your spine. 
You held your hands behind your back as children took their crackers which were symbolic of the flesh of Jesus, their “wine” symbolic of the blood of Christ, and scattered back to their seats. 
When it was your turn, Kuroo made sure to keep a keen eye on the way your head tilted back ever so slightly when you had opened your mouth for the cracker to be placed on your tongue. 
He wondered what other situations you would be in such an arguably compromising position. 
You ate the cracker and took the small, plastic shot glass-like cup with you back to your seat. 
“Nah,” Kuroo shook his head, declining the offer of the cracker, and took the cup, downing it and throwing it in the small trash bin next to the pastor, walking back to his seat, not looking back. 
He sat back down next to you, his hands in his pockets this time. You stared ahead, waiting for anything to happen, the tension between you two was so thick you could cut it with a knife. 
Suddenly, he leaned down to your ear, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck. “By the way, you get so fucking wet. It’d be pathetic if it weren't so adorable.” He hummed, sending heat straight to your core. 
You gasped at his words, looking up at him as he leaned back up. “Kuroo!” You whispered. “You shouldn’t curse in the house of the lord!” 
He looked down at you and chuckled slightly. 
“Oh princess, if it were just us here I’d do so much worse.” He teased, making your eyes widen. Heat rushed over your body, causing you to break eye contact with him. His gaze became too much to bear. 
Your parents and pastor had warned you of temptation before, but you had always thought it would be easy to overcome. You would have never thought that it could be something like this. His words and gentle touches felt like too much yet not enough all at the same time. 
You wanted it all to stop, but yet you wanted to beg for more. 
But you had to keep your composure, God's eyes were on you, you reminded yourself. 
But all you could feel was his eyes on. They were fixated on you. The thought alone of that insatiable look in his eye made your thighs pressed together and your throat run dry. It all made your head reel. 
And just like that, it was over. 
You had been so lost in thought that it took Kuroo shaking you to make you notice everyone getting up and gathering outside for the weekly catch-ups that turned, “just a few minutes dear, and then I swear we’ll leave,” into 30 minutes and plans to babysit Mrs. Johnson's grandsons next weekend. 
“Is it time to go?” Kuroo asked you, wrapping his arms around your waist. 
“Only the adults are leaving, the teenagers and children stay for Sunday school, that’s why I’m wearing this outfit.” You whispered to him. 
He went silent until he proposed an idea that caught you way off guard. “We should go back to my place for bible study, I might be able to show you a different type of God.” 
Your eyebrows raised at the sudden invitation, you didn’t know what he meant by that, but you know it’d be rude to decline such an offer since he had come to Sunday worship despite his belief in this “other type of god”. 
Before you could answer he tapped your mother’s shoulder, catching the attention of both of your parents. 
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but can I speak to you for a second?” He asked politely. Your parents said their goodbyes to Sister Elise and stepped away with you and Kuroo. “Yes?” Came the voice of your mother. 
“Would it be alright if me and your sweet daughter here, a real angel if I do say so, could go back to mine so we can go over the Psalms? I would offer to do it over the phone but the lord’s word can only be understood in person.” It’s like he had the good Christian boy next door role down pact. 
Your parents looked at each other worriedly. “I don’t know, will there be a guardian to watch over you two?” Your father asked. “Yes sir, my fathers at work, but my mother will be there. I promise I’ll have her home at a reasonable time.” He promised.
Oh yeah, he has this little act down to the T, not like you could see through it though. You were so naive and thought that you could bring out the good in him with the help of good. How foolish. 
Your father looked at his watch. “It's five now, so have her home no later than eight. Understood?” “Crystal clear, thank you, sir. Shall we get going?” He asked you, a perfect and pure smile plastered on his face. 
He was too perfect, your parents already adored him. 
Too bad it was only to get in your pants. 
———
You were on his bed. His room smelled of pinewood and lavender. You drowned in the scent, loving every second of it. 
His room was nothing like yours, he had deep red walls, wooden floors, and everything looked to be either black or red, barely any other colors being seen other than the clothes in his closet, and some other things you couldn’t identify, but he shut it before you could get a good look. 
“Sorry if my room is a bit dirty, I didn’t think about cleaning up before inviting you.” He apologized, closing the curtains. 
You loved the way he spoke, it was like his words were coated with chocolate. His luscious and velvety voice made you think things, things the lord would frown upon. 
“No worries! Nobody’s perfect.” You kindly reassured him with a polite smile. 
He’d think differently, you were a goddess in his eyes. Every part of you, even everything he couldn’t see, not that he’d be in the dark for much longer. 
He chuckled, his eyes wandering down your figure, undressing you with his eyes, as you sat innocently on his bed waiting for whatever he might do. 
“So where’s your mom?” You asked innocently, catching him off guard. “What?” “You said your mom was here, where is she? I didn’t see her when we walked in.” 
He’d already forgotten. Typical. 
“Oh, she’s probably taking a nap.” He lied with ease. 
He didn’t think he'd be able to forgive himself if he was in the presence of his mother while thinking about such ungodly things. He planned to defile you, and he wanted to be the only one who even got close to experiencing you in such a state.  
“Oh well-uhm...I’ll be sure to be quiet so I don’t disturb her.” 
He held in a chuckle. There was no way that you would be quiet, no way you could be quiet when he got his way.
“So…. While I have no real interest in changing faiths, I have to ask about the god that you worship.” 
He had you right where he wanted you. 
He hovered over your frame at the edge of the bed, him standing and towering over you. He’d lifted your chin to look up at him with the tips of his fingers and said in a delightfully sinful tone, 
“Oh baby,” He leaned in close to your ear, you could feel his hot breath on your sensitive skin. “I’m the new god, and you're gonna worship me like I’m your true creator.” 
You felt yourself shrink, yes at the way he was menacingly towering over you, but at the way he describes his God—no, himself. 
“You-you’re...the god you were talking about?” You stammered, your hands on his chest, trying to make some distance between you and his dominating presence. 
Sadly to no avail. 
“Mhm, and you’re going to be a good girl and obey me, understood?” 
 "Y-yes, sir." 
"Awe look at you, using your manners without me having to tell you. Keep that up and you just might get a reward." He cooed.
You felt a familiar heat pool at the pit of you. 
What was he going to do to you? What were these sudden temptations? And most importantly why did you want more. 
This was god testing you, and you were failing miserably. 
You wanted so badly to give in to your desires. To leave behind the life of that sweet innocent angel that everyone once knew, you wanted to give yourself wholly to your new one and only savior. 
You were really doing this. 
You were abandoning the only faith you’d ever known for some stranger. 
For all you know he could be a demon from hell himself, here to stray you away from the path the lord had originally sent you to. No, he couldn’t be a demon. He was so sweet when the two of you had first met, and he was so polite when addressing your parents. 
You felt like Eve, being tempted with such a delicious specimen by the devil himself. So when he pushed his lips against yours harshly, like Eve, you gave in. 
His lips molded perfectly against yours. Your tongues were dancing in an elegant waltz that could only be described as heavenly. His lips tasted so sweet on yours. If this was the forbidden fruit you would happily taste it again and again. 
His hands roamed your backside, hiking your skirt up so he could get a feel of your cotton panties. Your breathing sped, feeling him caress your clad ass. You’d always been told to never let anyone touch you like this unless you’re married, but I guess your god was the only exception. 
That’s right. Kuroo was god now, and you had to let him do whatever you want.
Suddenly, he roughly pulled your skirt off, throwing it behind him. You whimpered, afraid he might’ve ripped your skirt. 
Feeling his rough hands run up your sides and into your shirt, he stopped kissing you to look down, causing you to let out a whine, missing the feeling of his lips on yours. 
“Awe baby, don’t look so sad, I’ll get your mouth back to work real soon.” He whispered, trying to unbutton your shirt. Trying. 
You could tell he was getting frustrated at how the buttons wouldn’t come undone. 
He groaned loudly, grabbing an open hole of your blouse and ripping it open, making the buttons of your shirt fly everywhere. You gasped, whining because now you didn’t have anything to come home in. 
“Kuroo! How am I supposed to go home without a shirt?” You whined, hearing him chuckle soon after. 
“Hush, you’ll be fine don’t worry, you won’t be needing it anytime soon.” Kuroo reassured with a smirk.
He unclipped your bra and threw it behind him, looking down hungrily at your tits, admiring how perfect they were. He cupped one of them and proceeded to place the other in his mouth. You let out a soft moan, awakening something fierce in him. 
“Oh fuck, I can’t wait to hear more of those sweet sounds, princess. That’s right, let it all out for me baby.” 
He kissed up your chest and to your neck, peppering kisses and bite marks on you. Claiming you. 
He bit down on a certain spot, making you moan out, your fingers getting intertwined with the back of his hair. Your legs clung onto his waist as he abused the spot with his mouth, leaving dark hickeys. 
Your moans became needier when he brought his knee up to your cunt, grinding it right against your clit, making you wetter by the second. 
You felt high on ecstasy, the pleasure becoming heavenly, but what made everything pure bliss was his words. 
The way he’d call you his baby, his princess in between kisses, and the best of all, his little sinner. 
Being called his sinner made you feel a different type of feeling. It felt wrong, you could feel the heavens looking down on you in disappointment with each response you gave him. 
Yes, you’d be giving up your oath to stay pure until marriage, but if it’s your god taking your virginity, what harm could be done?
When he lifted up off you, you were snapped from your pleasure. 
He was looking down at your body and you resting upwards on your elbows, wondering why he’d left. 
“Get on your knees.” It wasn't a request. It was an order. One that you, of course, didn’t even think to disobey. 
So there you sat. All pretty and kneeling in front of him as if he was an alter. 
 You looked like such a perfect slut in his eyes. Who knew that such an innocent little virgin could look like the perfect whore. 
He wouldn’t tell you that though. No, he wanted to warm you up first. Call you such sweet names, make you feel like his precious baby girl and then let you know just how much of a dirty slut he thought you were.
Knew you were. 
All you needed was a push in the right direction. And he would provide that push. 
“Now you want to know how to appease your god, don’t you?” 
You nodded from in between his legs enthusiastically. 
“Well, first, you have to atone for your sins. Now how would we go about doing that?” 
You didn’t answer. You didn’t know what to say. 
“C’mon baby, be a good girl and use your words. How would you atone for your sins? Think about the position you're in before you answer.” 
You looked down at your legs which were folded underneath you and looked back up at him. 
“P-Prayer?” 
He couldn’t help but laugh at your innocence. “Oh princess, so innocent even in such a vulgar position baby. You’re gonna atone for your sins by sucking me off. You don't want me to be mad, do you?” 
Of course you didn’t. You didn’t even understand what sins you had even committed, but if Kuroo says you’ve sinned, you'll let him do anything to make you holy again. 
He stood up and unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock and waving it teasingly over you. 
“Now stick out your tongue.” 
You did as you were told, eyes never leaving his cock. It was the only one you’d ever seen, and the only one you ever wanted to see. It was a good 7 or 8 inches and about 4 inches wide in girth. 
It had the drool pooling at the bottom of your tongue before falling on your thigh high socks. It felt every bit as sinful as it looked and it had your panties soaked. You'd grinded against yourself for some sort of friction. 
“Awe, so pretty for me, now listen to me, you're gonna take everything I give you, ok princess?” 
You nodded, feeling as if your voice would betray if you tried to speak. 
“What’d I say about using your words? Such a shame, you were being so good earlier.” 
“Sorry sir, please don’t be mad, I promise I’ll-I'll take it all. I'll be so good for you.” The words were coming out faster than you could control. If someone would have told you that you would be in that predicament about a week ago you would have laughed in their face. But here you were, begging for him to do something, anything. 
You sounded absolutely brain dead and he loved it. 
“Ah, yeah that’s it, that’s my good girl.” He said grabbing you by your hair and gently guiding you down his shaft. 
“Fuck baby, ‘gonna train this throat so well you’ll be ready to worship this cock with your mouth anytime of any day.” He growled, lowering your head down faster, soon hearing you gag over his length. You felt tears prick your eyes as he finally thrusted his full length in your mouth, going well past your limits. 
He lets out a dark chuckle, suddenly being cut off by a throaty moan. 
“Ah f-fuck princess you’re being such a good girl, now remember to breathe through your nose.” He reminded you, resulting in you looking up at him and nodding, letting him know you understood. 
Your parents would disown you if they knew what you were doing. Your pastor and priest wouldn’t even think of speaking to you. You’d only have Kuroo, but that doesn’t sound too bad. After all, you had devoted your life to your religion in the past, so what would be so different now? You’d just be able to indulge in such fine luxuries as getting facefucked after church. 
He put his other hand on your head, roughly shoving your head down, matching the bucking upwards of his hips. The action erupted a loud groan from him, throwing his head back. 
You could feel him all the way down your throat. 
“Oh yeah, that’s my good girl, fucking hell baby girl,” he moaned, you could feel his thrusting start to get uneven, your throat not having anymore time to adjust to his size and abuse. 
His pace was absolutely brutal but you sat there, taking everything he gave you.
On the inside you were smiling, happy to please your god, you felt so proud of yourself for making him feel good. Being his good little girl. His obedient little worshipper. 
Your eyes became watery, the way he roughly thrusted into your mouth made your throat hurt, which made your eyes water. 
He bit his lip, lowering the sound of the grunt he let out. “Mmf, baby you look so pretty right now, such a pretty fucking princess for me.” He grunted. 
You didn’t feel pretty, though. Your face was covered in tears, sweat, makeup, and ran down mascara. Your hair was under Kuroo’s grip, messily overlapping his hands. Strings of drool were hanging from your plump lips onto your thighs, not to mention your soaked panties. 
Kuroo on the other hand looked heaven sent. Hair messily askew and face tinted slightly red. Biting his lip while sweat slid down his forehead. He looked like he was graced by God.
He looked like he was graced by God.
You felt ashamed at how wet you got by just looking at him, but fuck was he sexy. 
He shoved your head down quicker and quicker, thrust harder into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck baby you’re gonna-you’re gonna make me—” His groans became more and more breathy, and his working became more and more sloppy, until you felt a warm, thick, sticky liquid coat the insides of your mouth. 
The foreign substance tasted bitter and you wanted to spit it—
“Ah ah,” he sang, grabbing your chin to make you look up at him. 
You looked disgusting. He wanted to see you like this more often.
 “Be good and swallow for me, baby girl.” 
You gulped down the liquid, feeling it still in your throat, but it didn’t bother you enough to where you couldn’t breath. 
“Di-did I do good, sir?” You sounded absolutely broken, and it was like music to his ears. 
“You did amazing, I don’t think I’ve ever cum so hard. Does your face feel alright?” He cooed, tucking himself back into his pants. 
“My jaw hurts, and so does my throat, but I’m glad I got to make you feel good.” 
Kuroo smirked, admiring what he molded you into. Such a dedicated disciple, you deserve an award. “Now it’s your turn. Come on, hop up on the bed for me,” he commanded, patting the spot on his bed beside him. 
You did so eagerly, not wanting to break your obedience streak. You sat on your feet, your hands resting on each of your thighs, smiling with the light shining beautifully in your eyes. 
Even as the mascara ran down your cheek, you looked so beautiful to him. 
“Lay down.” He softly said. You obeyed, as usual, keeping your legs closed in the air. You had no idea what he was thinking of doing. 
“Spread them for me, babes.” He commanded. You were confused, why did he want your legs spread? 
“Wait, why?” You asked innocently. His eyebrows furrowed.
 “Because I said so. You’re not really denying the word of your lord, are you?”
Of course you didn’t. You were completely devoted to him, so without further hesitation you spread your legs. He pulled your drenched panties up off you and threw them somewhere in the room. 
He ducked himself inbetween your thighs and planted your thighs on the side of his head with a secure grip. 
“W-Wait!” You squeaked out. 
“What’s wrong baby? You’ve been such a good girl, and good girls deserve rewards now don’t they?”  He acts like this is for you, when in all honesty it’s all been for him. This whole time he’s only been fulfilling his desires of turning you from a sweet and innocent princess into a filthy fucked out whore and he knows this will only speed the process a bit, you just so happen to be getting some pleasure out of it. 
“Yeah I gue- Ah!” A moan cut you off when you felt him lick up your wet folds, moaning your legs jolt up and your back arch. 
He plunged his tongue into you, his thick tongue thrusts into you, making your moans come out in squeaks. You felt absolutely amazing already. 
His tongue circled around your clit, pushing his tongue in and out of you in patterns; leaving his tongue in, out, for a second, then in again going back to sucking and circling.
Your moans became higher and breathier each time his tongue circled your clit, it drove him absolutely crazy.
He was...spelling something? You could feel it as he kept making the same trails around your cunt. 
K,
U,
R,
O,
O. 
Kuroo. 
“Mmph, Kuroo, more please…” You moaned tugging at his hair. He slid his thumb up your thigh, rubbing your clit as he pushed his tongue deeper in you, prodding your sweet spot.
The sudden action made you cry out in pleasure, tugging at his hair. He moaned from under you at the sudden mix of pain and pleasure on his scalp.
Kuroo stuck his tongue in and out of you, continuing to rub your clit with his thumb. You felt a tingling sensation grow low in your stomach, making your grip tighten on Kuroo’s hair and while your other frantically grabbed at his sheets, the foreign feeling traveling through your entire being. 
You moaned his name, wanting to ask him what the sensation was, but your mind only focused on him, making barely anything come out other than moans and his name. 
His fingers sped up as his tongue explored your walls. The sensation made you tighten, sending chills through your core as the pressure became too much to process alone.
Your legs twitched as your orgasm rocked through you, your eyes rolling back, gripping his hair tightly.
All that you could think of in that moment was Kuroo. KurooKurooKurooKuroo. It was a repeating mantra in your mind.
Your walls tightened around Kuroo’s tongue, a moan squeaking from your throat. Your grip tightened as you came, covering his tongue. You came from your high slowly, allowing you to let out a satisfied sigh. 
You smiled peacefully as he hungrily lapped at your clit, making sure not to let a single drop of your cum slip from his tongue. 
As he pulled out his fingers and lifted up from your body, you relaxed, your legs falling and your hand bringing itself to rest upon your stomach. 
He came up and captured your lips in a bruising kiss, making sure you could taste yourself on his tongue. You tried pushing him away, not liking the taste of yourself, but he slapped your thigh, taking your hands and holding both of them above your head. 
You whimpered squirming, uncomfortable with him holding you down. You shook your head in the kiss, trying to get away, but he only took this as an invitation to slide his tongue into your mouth. 
You moaned into the kiss, feeling your body temperature rise as he rocked against you, grinding against your thigh. The foreign feeling felt weird, but knowing you were giving him pleasure did cloud your mind with a hazy fog. 
He parted ways from the kiss and looked down on you. 
You looked so fucked out, and the real fun hadn’t even started yet. He wondered how you would be able to take him all the way, the thought of you not being able to handle all of him snuck its way  into his mind and making him groan. 
You would look so cute crying that it was all too big, how it wouldn’t fit. The money he’d pay to see that, he’d bow down and pray to any god to see that image and keep it in his mind forever. 
He leaned up and loomed over you, caging you with his hands on either side of your head. His eyes were dark with lust. It struck a tinge of fear in you. 
He unzipped his pants, pulling his cock out, and spread your legs once more.
Leaning down, he whispered in your ear. "Do you think you're worthy enough for my cock princess?" 
"Huh!?" 
"Awe, what did you think was gonna happen sweetheart? You thought it'd be that easy to make up for your sins—"
"But you said—" you felt tears prick your eyes. You didn't think you were ready for such a big step before marriage. You two weren't even dating!
"But you said—" He mocked in a whiny voice. "I know what I said, and now I'm saying," he pulled you by the cross on your necklace. 
"That I'm gonna fuck you until you’re too fucked out to even think about anything else. I'll turn you into such a pretty whore that you'll feel dirty even thinking about stepping foot in that church. Do you understand slut?"
Whore? Slut? Where was this coming from? He’d been so nice to you. You wouldn’t think he’d call you such degrading names. It was like a switch had been flipped inside him. 
You looked down at his size, causing you to whimper in fear for your small body. 
Kuroo squeezed your cheeks in one hand roughly, making you whine, your eyes watering. “Use your words, you dumb bitch. Do you or do you not understand what I’m saying?” He repeated. 
You nodded. “I-I understa-stand.” You hiccuped, hugging your arms.
You we’re borderline sobbing at this point. This wasn’t the smooth and sweet guy who chatted you up in the convenience store. This wasn’t the sweet christian boy your parents knew. This man was Lucifer himself.
And now, your new lord and saviour. 
You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. You should have never given him the benefit of the doubt. Everyone was right about him. He was just a mean playboy jerk who treated women like shi-
“Awe don’t cry sweetheart. You were doing so good just a minute ago.” His sweet and comforting tone snapped you from your thoughts, and you felt your mind become just a bit less panicked about the whole situation. “Although, you do look awfully pretty when you cry… hm… How bout this; I’ll just make you feel so good to where your instant reaction is to cry. That way I get to see that cute little tear-stained face, and you get to have my expert cock. How does that sound, princess?” 
You nodded, feeling like if you opened your mouth only sobs would come out. 
“What did I say about your words?” He quickly chastised. 
“S-Sorry. Yes sir I-I’d like that…” 
“That's a good girl,” The praise made your chest bubble with joy. You were happy that you could be seen as good in his eyes after all the disgusting things he had just called you. 
“Now here’s the worst part.” 
And that was all the warning you got before he rammed his cock into you. It was the worst pain that you had ever felt. The agonizing stretch, the unfamiliar feeling of being so full, it all was too painful to bear. So you did exactly what he planned and cried. 
He thought of going slow, he really did, but then he wouldn’t be able to see you and those absolutely gorgeous tear streaks. 
“Kuroo, it hurts! It’s too much! Take it out please!” You sobbed out. 
He laughed at you. “Aww poor baby, is it too much?” 
“Good.” He said with another slam of his hips. “You seem—fuck— to forget what we’re—oh god your so fucking tight—doing this for. You were acting like a bitch in church. In the house of your—shit—precious lord.” He said the last point in a mocking tone. “And now you're just paying for your sins to your new god.” He breathed out while continuing to thrust into you at a brutal pace. 
You could only cry harder as he fucked you with such vigor. The stretch was so painful and with every rough thrust he hit your cervix dead on. It was absolute torture. 
So you 're confused as to why the pain slowly subsided and turned to pleasure. Were you… enjoying this? No. There was no way. You didn’t even get a real say in what was happening. So why we’re tiny gasps coming out faster than you could stop them? And why did your hips start to move down to match his thrusts. 
“How do you thi-think your parents would react to your sinful actions right now? Huh, you dumb slut? Bet they’d be so disappointed to see that their precious little girl is nothing but a pretty little sinner huh? Say it! Fuck- Say you’re a sinner, and make sure the neighbors can hear you say it.” 
“B-but your mom..!” 
“You actually believed that?” He laughed. His laughing consisted of grunts and groans, making his laughing time out. “You’re such a fucking dumbass, you know that? I wouldn’t be touching your disgusting ass if my mother was home.” He growled, making more tears stream down your face. 
You whined, covering your face because of the absurd amount of embarrassment you felt. 
“Oh no no no, don’t cover your beautiful face now!” He grunted, taking both of your wrists and holding them above your head. 
With only the bottom half of his cock fucking into you, his thrusts were long and deep, making sure you felt it in your stomach. Your eyes rolled back with each agonizingly painful and deep thrust, your nails ripping off your skins from balling your fists. 
“Oh fuckkkk you're so tight for me.” Kuroo groaned. ”How’s such a slut like you got such a tight pussy?” 
It was obvious that the question was rhetorical as he started to slow his thrusts but put more force behind them, bruising your cervix. All you could let out were little “ah ah ah ahhhhhhs”. 
He slowly stopped, looking down at your trembling body. He let out a breathy groan, shaking his head and biting his lip. 
He let go of one of your wrists and grabbed hold of your hand, bringing it down to your stomach. 
“Princess, do you feel that?” He asked, rubbing your hand over a bump on your stomach. You looked down with him, seeing a slight bump stand with attention below your belly button, making your eyes widen and your breath quicken. 
“Ka-ka-Kuroo! What is that?!” You frantically questioned. 
He looked up at you with the most agrivated, most dumb founded look on his face. “What do you mean, ‘what’s that’?! That’s me, dollface.” He spat, making you jump. “Y-you..?” 
He groaned, slamming into you again, causing you to scream out again. “Ya’ see that moving in your stomach? That’s me, fucking deep into your tight tight pussy.” He growled. You look down again, seeing the bulge in your stomach move with each sharp thrust Kuroo sent through you. 
It made your head feel fuzzy. 
Your body started adjusting to his size, finally. You lifted your legs to cling onto the side of his waist, but they quickly fell spread for him. Your arms also stopped struggling, relaxing under his grip. Your eyes slowly rolled to the back of your head. With each animalistic thrust of his hips you could feel the bed shake. You could barely hear the frame hit the wall over the sound of your high whines and moans and his low groans filling your ear. But you could still faintly hear it, reminding of how rough he was getting. 
“Alright princess now open your mouth and stick your tongue out.” He commanded from over you. 
You opened your mouth and leaned your head back being sure to lol your tongue out.
You felt a cold liquid settle near the tip of your tongue, it was Kuroo’s spit. He’d let it fall like a fountain. Licking his lips when he’d finished. 
“Now swallow like a good girl.”
You closed your mouth and gulped. Letting the spit slide down your tongue. It should have grossed you out, but instead it made your eyes roll back. 
“Aww, look at you, all pretty and fucked out.” he shrugged, thrusting upwards into you, hitting a spot that made you scream out in ecstasy. 
“Kuroo, right there! Fuck, Kuroo yes right there!!” You moaned, arching your back and throwing your head back. 
That was the first time you cursed. Ever. 
“Such a dirty vocabulary you’re discovering! I’m such a good influence on you, your parents would be so proud.” He sarcastically exclaimed in a low and gravelly voice. 
Your parents. You were so caught up in your pleasure that you completely forgot all about them, and the time limit they'd set for you. You were sure you’d past it, it was fairly dark outside. 
You whined, feeling more tears of disappointment roll down the side of your face. “Do-don’t talk about them right now…Ah-I’m gonna-Kuroo fuck p-please!”
He only thrusted harder faster. “Awe baby, do you think you're the one in control? That’s so cute.” He pulled you by your necklace for the second time that night. “You’re atoning for your sins, and I’m using your body for my own pleasure. So you’re gonna sit back, and make sure the only thing that comes out of that pretty. Little. Mouth,” He punctuated each word with a harsh thrust. “Are those pretty. Little. Moans. You got that princess?” 
“Y-yes sir. I’m so sorry sir.” 
“Awe look at my baby! Using her words like a good girl!” He deeply cooed. 
You bit your lip, holding back the moan you desperately wanted to let out, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of your voice. He noticed and started to pound faster. You couldn’t hold back anymore. 
“Fuck! Kuroo! Ple-ase! Fuck you’re so good. Sosososo good. Pleeeeease!” 
“Listen to you! You sound downright pathetic!” He laughed at you. It felt humiliating, but you felt yourself getting wetter from the whole situation. The intensity, the humiliation, Kuroo’s groans, they all were filling up your senses, and you could feel yourself nearing your climax. 
“Look at you, you’re getting tighter. How much of a- fuuuuck how is it possible that your tighter- slut are you? You're really getting off to me calling you a slut? You like that? Huh? Go on, answer me whore.”  
“Yes! Yes Kuroo! I’m your whore! Fuuuuuckkkk!” Your moans were high and breathy. 
He pulled you by your necklace one again and snatched it clean off of you. 
You gasped, snapping out of your lustful trance. “Kuroo!!! My dad gave me that!!” You cried. 
“I don’t give a fuck, I’m your god now, you don’t need a stupid cross, I’ll let everyone know you’re mine.” He huffed, dangling it in front of you, before throwing it out his window. 
The window. The window! 
 “K-Kuroo, how long has that be-been open?” You asked. 
He groaned, slowing down his thrust. “The window? It’s been open since this morning.” He shrugged, fucking into you sloppier and sloppier. 
You felt embarrassed, heat rushing over your being as you held onto Kuroo to hide your face. “O-oh…” you moaned, scrunching your eyebrows together in embarrassment. 
“What’s wrong baby? Are you embarrassed? Are you embarrassed that my whole neighborhood can hear how bitchy, and pathetic you sound? Fuck- Good, fucking cry about it like the stupid bitch you are.” 
Each insult brought you closer to that edge. You forgot all about your previous embarrassment and basked in the bliss of Kuroo’s rough thrusts. 
“Holy shit- Did you get tighter from me reminding you of how much of a—shiiiiiitttt—of a fucking slut you are?” His voice sounded so breathy. You could feel him twitching inside of you. 
And then the dam broke. You could feel your orgasm sparking through you like electricity. 
“Kuroo! Kuroo! Im cumm- Im cumming! Oh Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck! You're so good!”
He revelled in the profanities spilling from your mouth, knowing that before this you probably would have never thought about saying such vile things. 
“Oh thats right baby who’s making you cum on his cock like a dumb bitch in heat? Who’s your god? C’mon, say it, princess.” 
“You! Shit! You're my god! Oh please- It’s too much! It's- It’s too much!” 
He laughed at you. “How many fucking—Fuck baby you feel so good—How many times do I have to tell you this isn’t- Shit- This isn’t for you.” The last part came out as a dark growl. 
“Y-Yes sir! I’m sorry.” 
“Yeah that's a good girl, oh you're such a good slut for me. Shutting up and just taking it. Yeahhh that's a good fucking whore. You want your god to cum inside you? Breed you and fill you up so nice? That what you want princess?” 
Your eyes widened. Nononono he couldn’t! He had to pull out! 
“N-No...Please...” Your voice sounded so weak and tiny. 
“Oh no baby, that was rhetorical. You're gonna sit back and let me breed this little pussy like a good girl who stays in her place, because surely- fuck- you remember your place and wouldn’t talk back, now would you?”
You knew it was useless to deny him. You don’t even know why you tried. 
After a few more thrust there was a particularly hard one. The force of fit knocked you back a bit, but he pulled you back by your thighs so he would stay fully buried inside of you. 
Suddenly you felt nothing but warmth filling you. He was cumming inside you. You could feel him shooting spurt after spurt. You had never felt so full, his thick cock splitting you accompanied by his come pushed you to another orgasm. Your legs shot up and you let out a loud whiny moan. 
“Oh god! Oh fuck! You feel so good filling me up Kuroo- Fuck!” 
“Aww you came again from me cumming in you? What happened to you not wanting it?” He teased. You couldn’t respond, you still hadn’t come down from your high. 
_________
You woke up in an unfamiliar location, dark red walls and black sheets were unlike your pastel blue walls and baby pink sheets. You panicked, until memories of your earlier actions came back to you. You weren't completely calm though, you were sure you definitely passed your curfew and Kuroo was nowhere to be found. 
“Kuroo! I need to get home like— now!” 
He entered the room and laughed. “Oh calm down you big baby, I called your folks and said you’d passed out cause you were so tired. Took some convincing, but they’re fine with you spending the night here.”
You sighed, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. “Oh, thank god.” 
“Speaking of,” He came closer to you. “You down for round two?” 
You felt warmth flood your face and threw a pillow at him. “You pervert!” 
“How am I the pervert when you're the one naked in my bed?” 
He was right, you did feel a cold breeze brush against your cold body as you pulled the covers up. 
“Well then where are my clothes?” 
He winced, itching the back of his neck. “Ya’ see...your skirt is still ripped, but I put your underwear and skirt in the wash. You could wear something of mine though!"
500 notes · View notes
goodgirlofglory · 3 years
Text
That which lingered on his mind / Chapter 1
Prologue - Chapter 2
Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader
Word count: 4,7k
Warnings: 18+, Non-con, dub-con, Explicit sexual content, Explicit language, smut, Graphic descriptions of violence, bondage (bound wrists), oral (f receiving), asphyxiation (choking), Cumplay, Some graphic descriptions of blood.
Chapter summary: Steve Rogers, Captain America and your former neighbor, used to harbour some secret feelings for you before he was turned into a Hydra asset. Now he’s come back to claim what he cannot rid himself of: his desire for you.
Author’s note: This one came to me a dark January night and hasn’t let me go since. This series will be about 7-8 chapters, so stay tuned! Not beta-read, so all mistakes are mine. My work is not to be distributed anywhere but my blog. Reblogs are welcome, though. And I so appreciate reading your replies and tags<3 hope you enjoy ;)
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It started out as any other night. You had a cup of tea and scrolled through your phone for a while before a violent yawn told you it was time for bed. 
It was a normal night.
Until you stood face to face with Captain America. Or at least, who you thought was Captain America. America’s hero and your former neighbor. 
You had never really paid any attention to news about the Avengers or Mr. Rogers, and had never been one to socialize with neighbors. He lived across the hall from you and was quiet and polite, never drawing more attention to himself other than a smile and a curt greeting now and then.
That was until he disappeared off the grid about four months ago. It was all the news could talk about for a good three weeks. Gossip in the building also started flourishing. Where had he gone? What happened? Was he dead?
Apparently not, for there he stood, silent as the grave, inside your apartment, half shrouded in darkness, blocking your way to the bedroom. 
 You didn’t really know what his uniform used to look like either, but from what you could remember he used to have a star on his chest, and not the squid looking emblem he now bore. His face was also an unusual sight, jaw covered in a gruff beard, hair long and pushed back. But worse were the eyes; steely, cold and intent on you.
 Had it only been good ol’ Captain America standing uninvited in your home you would have been scared. But this. This chilled you to the bone.
 What the fuck was going on?
 Your body froze as you stared at the man, who made no effort to speak nor move. Finally you found your voice. 
“Excuse me, but what the hell are you doing in my apartment? Please leave before I call the police.”
You tried to sound tough, but your voice shook slightly at the last word. He must have picked up on that, for his otherwise dead eyes gained a slight glimmer. 
 “Please do. Their deaths will be on your shoulders.”
A small gasp caught in your throat. You were starting to become terrified. This was absolutely not the Captain America you had seen on the news nor the Steve Rogers you had greeted in the hallway. 
“Actually, don’t bother, you’ll never reach your phone,” he continued, sounding far too nonchalant for the ominous aura he was putting off.
Your eyes widened when you remembered leaving your phone on the living room table, all the way across the room behind you. 
What should you do? Run for it anyways? Scream for help? You opted for a seemingly less provoking approach.
“What do you want?” you asked, tears starting to involuntarily form at the corners of your eyes.
His eyes seemed to darken somehow, setting themselves on you with deadly weight, piercing your soul.
“You.”
Your fight reflex kicked in before you could think, and you lunged for the front door across the living room behind you.
But you barely got a few steps in before a thick arm snaked around your waist and janked you back to hit painfully against a hard, unrelenting body. You managed to shriek in fear before a second hand, big enough to cover both your mouth and nose slammed down on your face and muffled your cries, knocking your lips against your teeth. You tasted blood.
You kicked, hit and scratched at your assailant's body, but gained only a mocking snicker in response. His mouth came down to whisper in your ear, sending ice cold shivers down your spine.
“Please, keep fighting, it only makes this more enjoyable.”
You sobbed into his coarse hand, tears springing free from your eyes, wetting the skin of his fingers. 
 He tsked
 “Cuing the waterworks. He wouldn’t like that,” he breathed into your ears and tightened his grip on your face, effectively cutting off your air supply. You squirmed against his arms in panic, new tears falling, not managing to move him even an inch. His grip remained as tight as iron. 
 As your vision blurred and you slipped into dark unconsciousness, you kept wondering what he meant by “he”.
 §
 You awoke groggily, feeling the muscles in your arms ache as they lay over your head. You usually woke up with your arms thrown over your head, so it took a few seconds to remember what had happened.
When you did, your body surged upwards, but was promptly janked back against the bed. Looking up, you registered for the first time that both of your wrists were bound to the bedpost above your head, using the bondage ropes you had gotten as a joke a few years back. Looking down you saw that you were still fully clothed, with your oversized UNI t-shirt and cotton shorts.
 The knot looked intricate and a few janks told you it was secure as well. 
 Your breathing started to race as you understood you were stuck, and a cry ripped itself from your lungs at the realization. 
 “Ah-ah-ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a calm voice came from across the room.
“HELP,” you screamed at the top of your lungs, ignoring the man who sat in the chair in the corner. It felt good to defy him, if only for a split second. 
 He made no indication that your behaviour bothered him, his stare as even as ever. 
“I will kill anyone who enters this apartment,” he said calmly. “You don’t want to endanger any of your good neighbors' lives. That’s not who he perceived you to be. I, on the other hand, have no problem killing everyone in this building if it helps you understand what is happening here.”
 “And what the fuck is happening here exactly?” you snarled, still janking at the knot around your wrists, bound just a little too tightly.
He smirked at that.
“Feisty, just like I hoped. It’s more...fun if I can break you first,” he mused.
He got up from the chair and moved over to the bed. When he got close enough you kicked out at him, and you would have hit him right in the gut if he hadn’t caught your foot. Not that it would affect him, you bitterly thought after.
He looked almost amused before twisting your foot around until you shrieked in pain.
“Oh,” he cooed, “remember to be quiet. We wouldn’t want anyone to come checking in on you, would we?”
He let go of your foot, and you recoiled in the pain that shot up through your body. A sob escaped your gritted teeth.
He snickered.
“Pathetic. But I do see the appeal.”
He leaned forward and grabbed your jaw in a harsh grip, making you look him in the eyes as he leaned in so close his breath brushed across your face. There was a slight hint of mint to it.
“What's happening here, sweetheart, is that I’m gonna get some things out of my system.”
His hand let go of your jaw and moved down to slightly encircle your throat, lingering like a taunting threat. Your throat constricted instinctively at the presence of his calloused hand. A smirk played at his lips as you squirmed under his light touch. 
“I’m going to fuck you, Y/N”.
 You thrashed at that, nausea setting in your stomach, your skin prickling as the words landed.  
 “No, no, no, please,” you started to mumble in your panicked state, janking  more desperately on the knot around your bound wrists.
 “Oh yes, and the more you fight, the worse it’ll be for you,” Steve smirked as he moved around the back of the bed and started to climb onto it, grabbing your kicking feet with ease, straddling your thighs.
Helpless to stop it, you watched as he took a fistful of your shirt in both his hands and ripped the fabric open, split down the middle, exposing your stomach and chest underneath. In the chilly night air your nipples hardened and goosebumps spread across your skin.
You saw the feral expression that grew behind his eyes. 
He only hummed in response to your desperate whine, before letting a hand flitter up your hip.
His fingers stroked lightly up your torso, following every dent and bump, and you shivered at how soft it was in contrast to his earlier brutality.
Your breath hitched in your throat and his gaze snapped up to meet yours.
“Does that feel good?” he asked in a low murmur, smugness shining in his eyes, mockery dripping from his voice.. 
You shut your mouth and bit the inside of your cheek, tears welling in your eyes, trying to quell the impulse to scream. 
You had no doubt in your mind that no one in your building could overpower the super soldier, and you were terrified he would keep his word. 
You couldn’t let anyone else die. 
 A painful tweak of a hardened nipple brought you back to the room, and you cried out.
“Don’t disappear now, I need you present for this,” he instructed in a patient voice, almost like you were a disobedient child. 
 He bent down then, and took a pebbled nipple into his mouth while his hands landed on either side of your head, caging you in.
The sensation of his hot and wet mouth in contrast to the cold air of the room sent sparks flying through your body and, more horrifyingly, down between your legs. You bit your tongue out of shame, and tried to squirm away from his wanton mouth. It took only a single hand of his on your chest to effectively pin you down as he continued his ministrations on your nipple, sucking, licking and teasing with his teeth.
He radiated warmth hovering over you like that, his hand a searing presence on your skin, no doubt feeling how hard your heart was beating against your ribcage.
His smell filled your nose, musky, with hints of smoked wood and cedar, and something familiar and sweet - your own perfume. Did he go into your bathroom? Did he use your perfume on himself?
His mouth moved up your chest and to your neck, and he was so close, so overwhelming.
You squirmed slightly at his approach, but noticed that in this position, pinned under his thighs like you were, the fabric of your panties caught on your core, dragging along the awakened skin, and to your horror you could feel the slick starting to gather there. You stifled a whimper, face burning with dread and newly bloomed shame. 
His beard scratched your throat as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling sharply.
“There’s that smell,” he murmured with a throaty sigh, “that smell he couldn’t get out of his head”.
What was he on about? Who was “he”? 
Your mind raced with questions as his tongue started to lap at your throat, leaving open mouthed and sloppy kisses to your sensitive skin.
You closed your eyes and tried to resist, tried to fight your body’s reaction to his stimulation, but as his teeth nipped at a particularly sweet spot, your whole body shuddered involuntarily and a small gasp escaped your mouth. 
 His face snapped up from your neck, piercing blue eyes finding yours teary and terrified - and no doubt dilated.
He straightened after a second, and shimmied off from where he was still stradling your thighs. As soon as your legs were free, you started kicking out at him, rage and defiance surging, trying and failing to hit him in the chest as he effortlessly caught both your ankles and gathered them in one hand. 
He leaned forward, face smooth and emotionless, and landed an open handed slap across your face a second later.
Your head whipped to the side, and your breath left your body for a second as your head swam, a high pitched ringing filling your ears.
You gasped in shock, your whole body going stiff as pain spread from your cheek.
You had never been hit before, and especially not that hard. Tears sprang forth from your eyes as it dawned on you how utterly fucked you were. 
“Let that be a warning,” he said in a calm voice, seemingly not affected in the slightest by the violence he was so willingly dishing out.
The fight was out of you for now, and you could only breathe through the sharp pain that lingered on your face as he moved in between your thighs.
Sitting back on his haunches he started to remove the tactical suit on his torso, impatiently ripping at the fastenings as his eyes never left your face, red, swollen and wet from your tears. 
You averted your gaze, disgusted by him, disgusted by yourself, desperately trying not to reveal your body’s reaction to his.
When he was completely naked from the waist up, his hands turned to your sleeping shorts, removing them with deft haste and surprising softness before leaning back again, his touch leaving your body. 
Several seconds went by without any action, and your curiosity gained the better of you. Turning your eyes to him, you found him studying your body. His face was as blank as ever, but his eyes betrayed some sort of sentiment you hadn’t seen before.
“He used to dream about you,” he said after a while, seemingly more to himself. 
He bent forward once he realized you were watching him, caging you in again as he hovered over you, moving closer and closer.
Face still stinging from his slap, you didn’t dare move even a muscle as his lips found yours. It started slow, but soon he grew impatient, and his tongue invaded your mouth, hot, wet and dominating, moving languidly against your own. 
Breathless and reeling, a small whimper left your mouth, and the responding groan that emitted from his throat rumbled through you.
While still moving his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands reached down and you felt the distinct calloused warmth of his touch to the inside of your thigh. 
A small, panicked “no” croaked out of you, but he only swallowed it eagerly, not letting up his touch as it zeroed in on your core. 
You could feel his fingers touching the cotton covering you, and by the breathy laughter he huffed against your mouth, he no doubt felt how wet it was.
“Oh, doll, I don’t think you’ve been completely honest,” he mocked as he leaned back again and looked down at your ruined panties. 
You tried to hide your burning face in the nook of your elbow as he ripped your panties off before bunching them up in his hand and bringing them to his face. But his eyes caught yours in a steel grip as he inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering for a second before a pleased sigh left his lips.
You watched as his tongue swiped at the wet patch of the fabric before he put the panties in his pocket.
You thrashed at his obscene actions, nausea burning hot in the pit of your stomach, mixing with your undeniable arousal. 
What the fuck was wrong with you? 
As your mind raced against the reality of the situation, Steve laid down on the bed between your legs. His mouth attacked your pussy. 
A squeak escaped your mouth, hands janking at the knot around your wrists as he started devouring you, mouth moving between your clit and weeping wound with urgency, almost desperation. 
A full on groan left his mouth as he lapped at the juices that were steadily leaking from you. 
His hands found your breasts and started teasing your nipples, and you tried to squirm away.
You needed him to stop, you needed this assault on your senses to cease, because you could feel your resolve burning away as sweet, untainted pleasure started spreading through your body. 
Steve’s tongue swept up and swirled around your clit, and you tried inching away. One of his hands gave your breast a sharp slap before tweaking your nipple painfully again. Another warning. You headed it. 
“Does that feel good?” he asked, but in contrast to the last time it almost sounded like he cared.
You shook your head weakly. 
He chuckled against your mound and gave your breast another slap, sending jolts of pain through your chest. 
“Don’t lie,” he warned, but there was surprisingly little malice in his voice. “But nevermind. This pretty, swollen, soaked cunt tells me all I need to know,” he said almost fondly before giving your clit a few licks. 
“Give in, Y/N, I can feel how much you want to,” he taunted in between licks and all you could do was lay still and take it, new tears streaking from your eyes and wetting the hair at your temples as you squeezed them shut. 
He was right. You couldn’t deny the pleasure he was wringing from your body.
“I’m going to stay still now, and you move however you want,” he said then, before doing just that. 
Somehow, having him stop was more torture than what he had been doing, and your stubborn pride, your better judgement and the stinging feeling of violation that burned in your chest fought against your body’s sudden need for stimulation - for his stimulation. 
Something in you snapped, and you tentatively moved your hips so your clit could find his tongue, stretched out waiting for you. 
You shivered. 
It felt good. 
You rolled your hips again, more firmly this time, and the resulting swipe of his tongue against your sensitive bud of nerves had your breath leaving your body in a shaky exhale. 
His hands gave your breasts an encouraging squeeze, before resuming their attention on your nipples, and you moved your hips with more fervor. 
Before long you were grinding yourself on his mouth, breaths coming out in puffs as your eyes stayed shut, losing yourself in the hot feel of his tongue. 
Desperation grew as you could feel that distinct coil tighten in your abdomen, and every draw of breath fueled the build up. 
Not thinking anymore, you bucked your hips on him in repeated motion, lingering on the edge of the abyss, searching for that which would make the coil snap.
A desperate whimper left your mouth and as a response, a rumbling groan from his throat vibrated right through you and you fell head first into your orgasm, entire body shuddering violently as your mouth opened in a silent scream. 
He was on you as you came down, lapping up your release and groaning as you trembled at the overstimulation. He was frantically groping at your waist and hips, strong arms and hands grounding you as you floated on the aftershocks of your high.
The moment the orgasm faded from your foggy mind, it fell in on itself.
How could you let yourself give in like that? 
You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind trying to escape the whole thing, if only for a moment, go far far away, go numb, go blank. 
You weren’t allowed more than a few seconds reprieve, however, as you faintly heard him rustling around before you felt pressure at your entrance.
Before you had time to protest, Steve pushed his cock into you, giving a pleased huff as your body squeezed instinctively, drawing him in even more. 
Your eyes shot open and met his - wild and pleased.
“There she is,” he said with dark glee as he breathed hard. 
You fought to draw breath as your body seared with pain of the intrusion. His girth was more than you could take. It was all you could do to handle the stretch of his cock bottoming out, pushed inside you to the hilt.
“Feel that? Feel how your willing cunt is swallowing me like that, inviting me in?” 
He started to move a second later, not giving you any time to adjust, setting a punishing pace that sent sparks of pain up through your body.
You cried out at the agony, nails digging into your own palms. 
Above you, Steve growled as he bared his teeth at you, slamming his hips against yours. 
His cock was rock hard as it speared you, and he only seemed to grow harder at your pained cries. 
Through the pain and your strained whimpering sounds, you faintly heard him mumble.
“- all those incessant thoughts about you….never like this….if he only fucking knew...ripe for the taking, and the bastard didn’t as much as ask you out...”
His hand seized your throat as he stuffed his face into the crook of your neck again, inhaling fervently. Hitched breaths was the only thing that escaped you at this point, as he kept up his torturing pace, abusing your pussy without halt. 
“- That fucking smell in the hallway...never escaping it...fuck…gonna fuck those thoughts right out...”
 Was “he” Steve? Was he rambling about himself? Or at least, who he used to be?
The pain had slowly subsided as you’d listened to the man’s crazed rambling, and a deep onslaught of pleasure was starting to make itself known with each punch of Steve’s cock. Soon your body started to tremble, and you fought against the coil starting to build again. 
Steve shifted his hips to run his hands down your sides, and the new angle hit the spot deep within you that made your breathless.
Your mouth opened in a complete and utter moan, and Steve’s head snapped up from your neck, something akin to surprise in his eyes as he took in your face. 
“That’s the spot, isn’t it?” he asked, and his voice was thick with pleasure. 
You tried to avert your eyes, but his hand shot up and gripped your jaw, pulling your face so close that your breaths mingled. His stare locked yours in an iron grip. 
His thrusts slowed, and he rolled his hips, reaching deep, so deep inside you, and a pleasured sigh left your lips to fan across his lips as he found that spot again.  
“Look at you. Steve would never think of you like this - he respected you. Little did he know you were a cock hungry little masochist,” he husked, pupils deep pools of dark desire. Your cheeks burned as you clenched around him at his words.
He grunted, letting his eyes fall close for only a second, and you noticed how his long and beautiful eyelashes fanned across his cheek. 
“Let’s see how much you can enjoy this, huh?” he asked in an almost mocking tone as one of his hands reached down to where his body was rutting into yours, and his thumb found your clit. 
You cried out as he started an unrelenting circling of the sensitive bud, and he mouthed at your jaw as he hummed in response. 
In the back of your mind a small voice was telling you to fight, to gnaw and hit and thrash until he understood that you didn’t want this. Another voice was arguing that you would only be hurt further if you fought more. There was no getting away from his intent and no overpowering him.
A louder voice was whispering that it was okay to give in. Give in to the way he felt on your skin, the way he moved in you, the way he looked at you. Give in to the pleasure.
 Your orgasm washed over you like a warm wave, spasming through every muscle as they sung with exhilaration. A shuddering groan left your lips and your pussy pulsed around Steve’s cock. He growled as he crushed his lips to yours, and you opened yours willingly, moving your tongue against his in a wet and sloppy kiss. 
“Good,” he praised in a groan after breaking the kiss, and to your surprise, something akin to pride bloomed deep in your chest at his praise. 
You were completely lost in the pleasure now, in the drag of his cock against your trembling walls, his musky og smoky scent and those blue, lust-blown eyes piercing you. 
His pace quickened again, and you could tell by the way his muscles tensed that he was closing in on his own release.
“I can feel you fluttering, doll. Listen to the sounds this pretty pussy makes. Maybe I should keep you?” he mused darkly, a small wicked grin on his lips. 
For a moment terror flashed across your eyes. Keep you? In the back of your mind the pain of your still bound wrists alerted you of the implications of that notion. Your cheek was still burning hot from his earlier “warning”.
As if he read your mind, he sneered.
“Take what he never had. Continue to take what he never had. Make you mine, let you have my cock every time I want, keep this tight pussy on a leash”.
You heaved for breath as his thrusts grew frantic, and he raised himself to his haunches, hands a bruising grip on your hips as he looked down at you. 
Under the dim moonlight his muscles rippled, shining in a layer of sweat, his hair disheveled and falling into his face, and those eyes, forever shaking the bones in your body. 
Your name ghosted on his lips as his brows furrowed and your back arched as your third orgasm seized you by every muscle in your body, your head thrown back in a desperate, strangled whine.
 “Fucking shit,” he exclaimed through gritted teeth, and as your cunt pulsed around him, you drew his orgasm right out of his body. 
He gave a few stuttering thrusts before stilling, thrust to the hilt inside you. Through the blood coursing in your ears you heard his snarl as he emptied himself in you.
For a moment his face completely stilled, eyebrows raised, eyes fluttered shut, mouth slightly open. In that moment, you swore you recognised your former neighbor, Steve Rogers, Captain America in those features. 
But in a moment he was gone, and this Steve, whoever he was, was leaning forward to crush his mouth on yours. 
Still coming down from your high, you eagerly opened your mouth for him in a rather intimate kiss, one of his hands coming up to cup the side of your face. 
You almost sighed at the softness of it all when his teeth caught your bottom lip and bit hard enough to draw blood. You yelped in pain as the iron taste filled your mouth and he let you wrench your way out of the kiss, snickering as he leaned back up and licked some of your blood off his lips. His eyes were wicked  as he pulled himself out of you.
The emptiness he left behind was both a relief and a disappointment, even as your lip stung. You licked at the cut, wondering just what brand of danger had forced himself into your bed. 
“God, what a sight,” he murmured above you, fingers dipping down to spread your nether lips apart as his cum dribbled out of you. 
Embarrassment burned your face as he looked on, perverted astonishment painting his features. 
Two fingers swiped your slit, gathering both of your releases on them before bringing them up to your mouth.
When you did nothing but stare at him, he simply whispered “open”.
You obeyed, holding his gaze, and he pushed his fingers slowly into your mouth. The mix of the iron of your blood, the salt of his cum and the tangy taste of yourself made your face scrunch up, and he hummed low in his chest.
“Does that feel good?” he asked, face emotionless but for the shining sin of his eyes.
You couldn’t help yourself, you nodded.
The corners of his mouth twitched up at that, approval coating his features.
“Oh, I’m gonna keep you, alright,” he murmured, dragging his wet fingers down your torso.
As his fingers slowly caressed you, exhaustion drizzled over you, your vision blurred, and you fell into unconsciousness.
 §
 When you awoke, bright daylight was shining in through your window.
The soreness piercing your muscles was like nothing you had ever felt before, but the sleep had been even deeper, sitting like a pleasurable hum in your bones. 
You remembered immediately what had happened in the night and was relieved to find that your wrists were no longer bound. The bruises, purple and pink, would probably last for weeks. 
The ache deep in your core made your gut wrench in remembered dread, but somehow there was a feeling of anticipation there as well.
A quiet voice inside you whispered that you hoped he would stay true to his word, and come back. 
Author’s note: Christ. Sometimes I wonder if there’s a blood kink brewing inside me. 
Taglist:
@thedaughterofwandavision​ , @hellotvshowtrash​
If you want to be added to the taglist, leave a note on any of my fics or send me an ask<3 
398 notes · View notes
imagines4thepeeps · 3 years
Text
Say it will always be like this (Rosie Betzler x reader)
For: @slytherinchevy
Request:
A oneshot about how rosie and the f!reader meet each other for the very first time and how they start loving each other.
Warning: nazis, holocaust, homophobia, anti aemitisim
A/n: soo I wasn’t sure if you wanted like when they were younger or not. Cus I usually go by the universe I created with the first one of these I wrote. So for this one I just decided to create a whole different way of them meeting. I hope that’s ok! WRITTEN ON MOBILE!
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“Hey, can I help you with that?” You asked the blonde haired woman as she struggled to thread the textile machine. She huffed, her fingers swollen and red from battling with the harsh metal of the mechanical monster.
“No I got it, I’m just-“
“New here? I know I could tell when you walked through the door.” You put on your best smile as you lightly pushed the woman away from the machine. You sat down to beginning to fix it. She quirked her eyebrow at you.
“How’d you know?”
“Well first off,” you began,” I would remember such a beautiful woman,” she scoffed, a light blush coming to her cheeks. “And secondly, that look in your eye tells me that this hell hole hasn’t broken your spirit yet, that’s refreshing, you know?” She nodded as your hands continued to work magic on the mechanics. “And lastly, you didn’t heil the guards on the way in.” She gulped scared you would report her, or worse.
“I didn’t- I-“
“Oh don’t worry I hate them as much as you. You do hate them?” You asked hopeful you had common ground.
“Extremely!” She nearly yelled. You giggled at the excitement in her eyes. She had fire, what a rarity she was.
“I’m (y/n) by the way.” You told her, holding out your oil covered hand for her to shake.
Surprisingly she took it.
“I’m Rosie.”
——
“Hey Rose, we still on for tonight?” You asked coming up to your friend. She smiled an earth shattering smile and nodded.
“Of course, “ she leaned closer to you to whisper in you ear,” I can’t wait to see this bar you always talk about.” You shivered at the closeness. You wondered if she knew the kind of bar it was. If she didn’t, you probably would lose your friend forever.
———
You arrived at the remote location of the “women’s” bar. You hands shook with nervous energy as you entered the building. Your eyes found Rosie instantly, she was the center of the entire room. Every person’s eyes were on her. She was yours though. Judging by the way she hadn’t run away at the sight of the women making out in the corner, she was yours in a more than a platonic way.
She beamed as you made your way to her. Her hand slipped comfortably into yours as you sat down beside her. She could tell you were nervous, she always read people well. She pulled you closer to her, feeling comfortable here for the first time in a while. In the 8 months you had known Rosie; you had gotten really close. You could only dream of the affection being returned, especially these days.
“Sorry I didn’t tell you what this was, I was ...” you began.
“Scared? Me too.” With that she brought your lips to hers. It was your first kiss but it felt like you’d known her all along. It was like kissing the sun, pure energy surged through the women into you. The whole world lit up with the love of this women. When she pulled away your body continued to hum with her power. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” She said out of breath, her chest heaving.
“I have.” You laughed, so did she,” but no one is like you”
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internalsealpanic · 3 years
Text
What’s Wrong with Superman?
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Summary: Flyman is a really stupid name.
a/n: I got a little excited so here’s my entry for @redhoodssweetheart​ ‘s writing challenge. If you’re a fic writer, I highly recommend joining.  This is for Quotes #1 This fic is based on the Superman Man of Tomorrow movie so it may not make sense otherwise.
Warnings: Reader is a bendy person so the physical descriptions will be weird and there will be some nsfw language but nothing happens.
masterlist
"What's wrong with superman?"  You ask, raising your feet up over your head and resting them against Clark's wall. The blood rushes to your head but you couldn't find the energy to care, not when the work day had you drained and aching. You're just happy to stretch your limbs and contort in angles that would loosen them. You need to convince your supervisor to transfer you to a different division.
"It's kinda..."  Clark waves his hand. "Yanno..."
Eloquent. You raise a brow at him telling him exactly what you thought about his solid argument.
"How about Flyman?" He says quickly.
"Ah yes, like the illustrious Batman but somehow worse." You say, turning onto your belly and nearly knocking over the things on Clark's bedside table. You shrug innocently. You shift, putting your feet over your shoulders as you think. "How about uuuuuh Captain Barbel?"
"Why?"
"Cus the guy could chuck them at people real easy." You answer simply. Clark really can't tell whether it was your excessive fidgeting or your monumental leap in logic that entertained him more.
He snorts, "That sounds like a dumb gimmick."
"So is being called Flyman." You huff.
"Careful, you're gonna hurt my feelings." Clark huffs in return, shaking his head as he grabs your favorite mug and one for himself. He has no idea how this specific mug was lucky but he's learned not to question a scientist's superstitions. Though he suspected it had less to do with actual superstition rather that you didn't want to admit that you just found the little cow-shaped mug adorable. He'll have time to tease you about it later. For now, he had to figure out this conundrum.
"If I was concerned about that, I would have pronounced Kansas properly by now." You say, sitting up to face him properly.
"What would you call him? Seriously." Clark says, resting against the kitchen counter. He's watching you with a hint of fond frustration. His leg bounces against the floor, fingers tapping on the linoleum countertop.
"Hmmmm," You purse your lips and lean forward- elbows on your lap, fingers laced together, and chin resting on your hands.  "Wonder Man?"
Clark's handsome face breaks into an incredulous smile. "Pfft, you’re joking right?"
"I have never made a joke in my life." You grin, taking the cup of coffee from Clark and scooting over to make room for him. You shrug. "There is a reason I'm not in advertising but seriously I think you should just go with superman."
"And give Lois the satisfaction?" Clark asks over the rim of his mug. He raises his brow.
"Think about it."
"Rather not."
You push on, ignoring him."If you popularize it, guess who gets the credit?"
"Are you telling me to steal?" Clark gapes at you and the mischievous glint and his blue eyes make laughter bubble in your chest.
You blow out a breath into the neck of your sweater. Well, his sweater up until 2 months ago. "Nope. You're the one interpreting it that way."
"Your boss is rubbing off on you."
"Oh, don't remind me."
"How about Captain Marvel?" He suggests, wrapping around his arm around your shoulder. You can smell the caramelized sugar in his coffee. You blanch.
"Oh. So you want a lawsuit."
"No..." A complicated expression takes over his face. His lips purse to one side as he thinks. You wait patiently for his answer, snuggling up to his side.   "How's it working at star labs by the way?" He says finally and you just had to love the clumsy way Clark tries to redirect conversations. He needs to get better at that if he wants to be a reporter. Then again, he's never failed to get an answer out of you with the earnest look in his eyes.
"I'm supposed to be in the engineering division, yeah?"
He nods before resting his face in your hair.
"Yeah, yeah. Him. Blegh." You wrinkle your nose and stick out your tongue, waving your hand in the air as if to shoo a thought away.
"But they stuck me with checking on that asshole biker wannabe..." You sigh.
"Lobo?" He asks, his voice rising a bit. Clark's grip in the mug tightens a bit but he has enough presence of mind not to break the mug.
"Well, did he say anything?" Clark asks, adjusting his glasses.
You squint. "My name isn't going on the paper."
"It won't." He says flat and steady. And you know you can trust him because, well, it's Clark.
You give him a crooked smile. "Nothing useful really. How much patience do you have for shitty pick up lines?"
Clark stiffens. "He was hitting on you?" He squares his shoulders. You see his jaw tighten and you think you can hear him grind his teeth. God, he's cute when he gets like this.
"He was hitting on anything with two legs."
And he was. Well, not really. You honestly couldn't really tell what his category for this thing was but you're pretty sure Clark doesn't care. He seems to care more about the fact that Lobo was hitting on you judging from the way he's borderline pulling you into his lap. You, frankly, were more concerned about what weird category you fit in to catch his eye.
"Maybe if I go with you next time..."
"You're cute Clark but I'm not sneaking you in there for a story." You pat his cheek.  Clark pouts at you. You try your best not to squeal at how cute he is. You fail.
"Let me come in with you." He presses.
"Honestly, it’s fiiiiiiiiiiine. Nothing I can’t handle."
He still looks unconvinced.
Clark buries his face deeper into your hair. "Hmmmmm, he sounds like an a- a jerk." He grumbles into your hair. You will get Clark to swear at some point.
You're extremely amused by Clark's behavior.  You wrap an arm around him. "Clark, he is quite literally contained in a cage I helped design. He is not getting out."
"Should I tell him I have a boyfriend and show him a picture of you?"
Clark's face goes ashen.  "Don't tell me you've done that before." That would explain so much.
"Then I won't." You laugh. That sound sends butterflies fluttering in his stomach no matter how many times he's heard it.
"I’d still feel better if I could come with you." He sigh. You would be lying if you said that you wouldn't feel better with Clark accompanying you. Sure, he wasn't Heracles but Clark was no pushover contrary to the shy demeanor. But... admitting that kind of thing was... not something you're comfortable with or used to so you let it settle like the cheap coffee in your mug.
"It’s really not necessary."  And Clark knows from the frequency of your heartbeat that you're lying. He knows you well enough to let it go. You kiss his cheek.  "But thank you, you’re disgustingly sweet."
You kiss him again. "Sides, I think he's just bored." Your eyes brighten, a memory resurfacing. Clark watches with interest, knowing there's a 50-50 chance that it's something like the material of Lobo's shoe. "Get this he says that superman guy is a kryptonian. Sadly, when I asked him the typical anthropology question he made farting noises." You tilt your head. "Well, he did say they were a good lay and... well the super guy was hung."
Red blooms on Clark's cheeks as he sputters out a response. You squish his face with your hands. You love messing with Clark way too much. You really should feel bad that look on Clark's face was priceless.
"Oh relax Clark, we both know my type is small town dork and not man from the moon." You giggle.
Clark kind of hates you sometimes.  He hates how easily you throw him off balance. Clark rights himself but he can't quite get rid of the blush dusting his cheeks. "Did he say anything else?" He asks, face still squished.
Unable to stop your giggling, you put your hands away. "Well, he called our mystery streaker a pretty boy."
"Very relevant."
"Yanno..." You drawl, taking Clark's glasses off. "yanno if you push that hair out of your face you'd look pretty good too."
Clark swats your hand away. You pout at him.
He looks at you wearily. "I like my hair how it is." He mumbles, fiddling with it.
"I'm not gonna cut it you dork. I just want proof that you have a forehead." You say, brushing some of his hair out of his face. Clark really does scream handsome when given the chance.
There's a flicker of recognition in the back of your mind that has your pulse quickening. Clark can already see the pieces falling into place, your mind whirring to get the answer.
His mind sprints to keep up and counteract the flow of your thoughts. Clark leans forward and kisses you softly. Without needing to open his eyes, he knows your mind is short-circuiting. Affection was a sure-fire way to get your mind to slow down. It was dumb but you really should be allowed to be dumb sometimes. Especially now when Clark isn't exactly sure how your feel about the mystery streaker.
You laugh your easy chirpy laugh sure but that didn't guarantee you were on board with an alien of all things. He wasn't even sure if you would think of him as any more than a test subject. No, he knew you too well to think that but there's still some part of him that isn't entirely sure and it scares him.
"Behave," he says, his face in a grin. The expression lights up his face. The smug satisfaction of finally catching you wrong-footed fills up Clark's features and shapes them into something borderline evil. "Tell me more about Lobo and his ramblings."
You shake your head. You mumble some version of “I always behave”.  You know Clark's hiding something from you. You can see it in the delicate way he's looking at you. You purse your lips deciding whether this is a good time to push but in the end, you decide to let him keep his secrets for now. If Clark of all people has a reason to keep a secret then it must be important. You brush your lips against his before laying your offer on the table. "A kiss per story."
Clark stares at you. "I can live with that." Clark huffs, adjusting his glasses.
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justimajin · 3 years
Text
Whac-A-Headstone
Pairing: Game Owner Jungkook x Employee Reader 
Genre: Fluff & Humour
 ↳ (10k) BTS Village AU 
Summary: Working at the arcade can be downright miserable and it doesn't help that your boss isn't, well, the brightest lightbulb in the world. Add to this his extremely dramatic and prideful ways, you're left wondering why you even choose to work at the place anymore. You fortunately receive the answer in the form of Richman V one day, who has been eyeing your boss's pride and joy for quite some time.
Warnings: pg13 rating, some major spoilers for BTS Run ep. 120-121 (watch them before reading this), everyone in this fic literally has no chill (WHAT!?) 
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A pair of two small feet come to a stop.
Across from the road are multiple posters and signs, from large cardboard cutouts to cliche and cheesy slogans scribbled on paper. There’s a string of colourful lights hanging from above, ranging from a neon yellow to a dark blue. It’s extremely noisy, but the boy’s feet tread closer, round eyes enamoured from the over the top appearance. 
The door is cautiously pushed open, the sound of his feet slowly shuffling against rough carpet echoing. 
The boy’s eyes widen, peering around in puzzlement. 
The shop appears nowhere near what its display offers. The walls are painted with a hue of dull beige, and there’s no intriguing lights with huge signs compelling him forward. Instead, there’s a large bookcase that he barely acknowledges, alongside a set of bright machines that remind him of its exterior. 
As if in a trance, his attention is drawn away instantly and he doesn’t hesitate to stumble across one of the machines, eagerly eyeing it down. After struggling to sit on one of the high stools, an innocent smile spreads across his lips once he eyes the multiple colourful controls within his reach. He presses a button in curiosity, but the screen in front of him doesn’t change. 
His smile drops into a pout, and he attempts again, only to be met with the same result. He then presses multiple buttons, frustration only building up at the blank screen. 
A shadow lurks behind him. 
“Hey kid.” He jolts, spinning around instantly. “You have to pay to play games here.” 
The boy stares like he can’t comprehend those words, his eyes big and naive. You cross your arms, a scowl lining your lips and expression void of any amusement. 
His shoulders deflate and the corners of his mouth downturn with disappointment. You continue to stare at him, gaze not wavering. 
A long exasperated sigh leaves your lips and your eyes quickly survey the empty arcade around you. Taking a step forward, you rummage through the pockets of your uniform pants and out emerges a shining coin that has the boy’s eyes lighting up. 
The coin slots into the machine and you turn around to face him, features still impassive. 
“You owe me for this one.” You mumble underneath your breath, but he simply retaliates with a gigantic smile on his face. 
The game immediately turns on as the boy begins playing, eyes eagerly sweeping across the bright screen as his fingers hurriedly tap against the multiple buttons. You watch from afar, the corner of your mouth lifting into an amused half-smile.
The sound of loud footsteps echos through the walls. 
An annoyed exhale leaves your lips and it isn’t long before the back door is being ripped open, a young man emerging within seconds. You’re unfortunately painfully aware of who he is and it’s probably high time to clarify who you exactly work for. 
Jeon Jungkook ‒ or simply your boss, if you actually took the liberty to address him as one ‒ is the person in charge of your employment. You’ve been working for him longer than you imagine and as you eye him from the corner of your eye, you can only contemplate how you’ve managed to even stick around for so long. 
He pushes the big glasses on the rim of his nose back with his fingers, his eyes wide and practically boiling with vigor. He’s dressed in his usual attire, a button up shirt with a subdued green print on it and tight fitted black trousers. There’s a jarring amount of gel in his hair that only seems to increase with time and if anything, he looks more like some kind of mafia boss running an organization rather than the owner of an arcade. 
His gaze is targeted on you, barely acknowledging the child that was excitedly playing one of his games and who is now staring between the two of you with wide eyes. You presume the boy is having the same thoughts running through his head that everyone has when they meet Jungkook, and it could be summed up with simply calling him a‒
“Y/N!” He abruptly yells, a muscle in his eye already twitching, “I heard one of the machines being turned on?!” 
A nutcase. 
You work for an absolute nutcase. 
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s how arcades work, you know? The machine has to be on for you to play an‒” 
“You know what I mean!” Jungkook snaps, waving off your sarcasm. 
“Oh.” You say, pointing towards the boy, “The kid wanted to play a game, so he paid for it and now he’s playing it.” 
“Actually…” The boy suddenly speaks up, voice quiet and hesitant, “The nice lady paid so I could play.” 
His eyes sparkle, like he holds you in high regard. Although he warmly smiles acknowledging your kind deed, your eye twitches and you mentally make a note to never to help out a child in your lifetime ever again. 
Turning around, your eyes meet Jungkook’s and he’s fuming. 
You internally sigh, already aware of what’s to come. 
“Y/N, how could you do such a thing?!” He dramatically says, pressing a hand against his temples, “To take away from the money I could have had….just how? How?!” 
“I was bored.” You honestly retort, unfazed in the slightest as you shrug, “And our only customer was a kid, besides‒” 
You raise an eyebrow, narrowing your eyes at Jungkook, “Are you losing money or something? Why are you so worried about one kid that I paid for?” A spark resides in your eyes, “Is the business shutting down?” 
Jungkook gasps, like you’ve offended his whole entire being. “What?! NO!” He shakes his head, “H-How could you even suggest something like that?!” 
He leans against one of the machines, tightly wrapping his arms around it. You roll your eyes, watching him have a semi-crisis over the fact that you suggested his business is going down the drain. 
“I’ll never give my business up!” He yells it out like it’s a statement he wants even the neighbors to hear. 
“Yeah, yeah, sure thing, boss.” You retort as you slide over an extra lollipop to the kid that you were saving for later. He beams at you and you smile, but then Jungkook complains you aren’t listening to him enough and you let out a sigh, turning around to coax him. 
***
After playing a couple of rounds on the machine before it shuts down, the boy bids you both a goodbye and sincere thank you. You tell him not to forget to bring some coins next time with a mumble and his eyes light up, followed by a very cute nod. 
Closing the door behind him as he leaves, you spin around with a lengthy sigh. Digging into the pockets of your uniform, you yank out your phone and begin to scroll through the contents with tired eyes. The entire store is empty, save for you and the supposed boss of yours that you presume is lurking around somewhere. 
The sound of a loud ding startles you, phone nearly slipping onto the ground. Your eyes are wide and on alert, sweeping around the vacant room. 
“Aha! TAKE THIS!” There’s a loud thud that echoes through the room, and your eyes instantly narrow. You tuck away your phone, shuffling your hands in your pockets and nonchalantly walking towards the source of the sound. 
Although puzzlement strikes you first, it quickly morphs into amusement as you reach the doorframe. Jungkook stands before the whac-a-mole machine, practically slamming the hammer against the poor plastic mole pieces in an effort to increase his score. 
Which is nearing a hundred and fifty by the way, the highest score one can achieve in the game. 
Your brows knit together as he keeps striking the popping moles, only for the machine to brightly light up seconds later with large digital letters saying WINNER in red across the board. 
“I DID IT!” He suddenly shouts, spinning around and spotting you instantly, “Y/N, I beat my own record!” 
You cross your arms, “Congrats.” 
There’s a spark of smugness in his expression as he crosses his arms, cockly staring at you, “Looks like my score is officially unbeatable now.” 
Although you know it’s practically bait that he’s throwing out, your lips move faster than you can register. 
“It’s still beatable.” His irises light up in an instant and you want to curse at yourself for falling into the trap, but the look of challenge in his eyes is enough to spark your own fuel, “I can beat it.” 
“Oh, really?” Jungkook questions, offering up the hammer, “Let’s see you try.” 
You grab it from his hold without hesitation, gesture for him to turn on the machine. It lights up within seconds and with a deep breath, you brace yourself as much as possible. 
The moles pop up within seconds, your eyes darting and flickering all over the platform. The hammer in your hands is soaring, hitting as fast as possible as quickly as possible. At one point, your hands mismatch and you catch an empty one, something that makes Jungkook snort but only increases your competitive streak even more. 
Sweat has begun to fester at your temples, but you pay it no mind once the last mole is hit and your eyes are glued to the scoreboard. In giant bulging letters, your score is displayed before you. 
5 points away from Jungkook’s score. 
You can already hear the cheers of ecstasy leaving his voice, or the daunting smugness leaking from the words that he’s aching to sprout in your direction. But when you turn, there’s this annoying magnified smile plastered onto his face that’s somehow even worse. 
You let out a huff and before Jungkook can start running all over the place in excitement like a child, a knock sounds from the door. 
You straighten up immediately, raising a brow. 
Customers don’t usually knock. 
“Were you expecting someone?” You immediately wonder. A groan leaves Jungkook and he mutters underneath his breath, something along the lines of ‘this guy again’. 
Dragging himself to the door to answer, your features contort into surprise once it’s yanked open. 
A young man stands before you, his arms crossed behind his back and gaze scrutinizing. He’s dressed far too fancy for an arcade, a fine white collared shirt with a black tie and vest that hug his body. His bronze locks are long and perfectly curl at the front, but their rich appearance is muted from his piercing eyes, which at the moment are gawking all around your workplace. 
Jungkook is first to speak up, clearly annoyed with the stranger’s prolonged ogling antics. 
“Hey!” The stranger immediately turns to him, “Are you going to keep staring at my game room or are you going to say something?” 
He stares at Jungkook, completely unfazed and apathetic to his loud exterior. It throws you off for a moment, wondering if there was even someone aside from you that possessed the ability to do so. 
His words are sharp and discrete, straight to the point. “I want to buy it.” He tilts to his head slightly to the side, “Have you made up your mind yet?” 
Your head snaps in Jungkook’s direction at the inquiry, appallment crossing all over your features. Jungkook looks like he’s ready to explode at any minute, hands balling up into fists. 
He mimics the stranger’s tone, gritting the words out, “It’s not for sale.” 
“I think there should be enough space to rearrange the front.” The man continues to speak as if he didn’t hear Jungkook, “These will have to be destroyed in order for a counter to be placed.” 
He’s examining the machines already, frowning at their appearance and that’s when Jungkook ticks. Pacing forward, he wraps his hand around the stranger’s arm and begins to drag him out, even as he continues to survey the area like a thousand thoughts were running through his mind. 
“Okay, now that’s really nice.” Jungkook cheekily says, but you can still hear the lingering anger in his voice, “How about you go redesign the neighbor's place? I hear they have a hairstylist who loves to gossip so it’d be nice for the two of you to chit-chat.” 
The posh man looks composed and you’re beginning to question if he was potentially holding onto a facade to not be able to hear Jungkook. It’s not long before he’s politely escorted out the door, with Jungkook practically lunging for the opportunity to shut the door behind him. 
He spins around, pressing his back against it as a sigh of relief leaves his lips. You can only stare at him in confusion as silence lingers, eventually breaking it with your own inquiries. 
“What just happened?” 
Jungkook’s wide eyes snap up, like he had completely forgotten you were in the room with him. 
“Oh that,” A strained chuckle leaves him, “He’s been coming around here often, usually in the early mornings when you’re not around.” 
He sits down on a chair that’s in front of the cash register, continuing to explain, “That’s Richman V, the guy nearly owns every property here in BTS Village.” 
Jungkook continues to meekly laugh, but it only serves to draw out concern from you. “So...what? He wants to buy the arcade?” 
“Well, uh,” He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah…” 
A deep frown settles on your features as you stare at Jungkook, who’s smile seems to be fading by the moment. 
“And like…” You begin, trying to wrap your head around the situation, “What? Are you going to sell it and hand it over or something?” 
You’re the one laughing now, staring at him in amusement. Jungkook’s smile is completely gone, his eyes fixated on the ground. 
“And what if I just did?” 
For a moment, you could have sworn he was joking. But Jungkook’s tone is completely different ‒ voice having dropped a couple of octaves with no hints of humour present. 
It only drills in deeper when he lifts his gaze to meet yours, a certain glint of anguish residing in there that you haven’t quite seen before. 
You struggle to come up with words, “Y-You can’t be serious…” 
“And what if I am?” Jungkook rests his hand against his cheek, leaning against the front counter. A sigh leaves him and your brows contort together, lips pressing together into a firm line. 
You scoff, “B-But I would be unemployed....” 
Jungkook’s gaze is fixated on the counter as he shrugs, “Then just find another job.” 
“It wouldn’t be the same!” 
His head snaps up, lips falling agape with the sudden outburst. You immediately avert your eyes, letting out an awkward cough. 
In the midst of the silence, you ponder again, “Have you made up your mind then...? To sell it?” 
“Sort of.” Jungkook mumbles, gaze drifting to the ground, “The game room hasn’t been doing too well financially and even though Richman V is kind of annoying....I’ve been thinking about his offer.” 
Your eyes narrow at him. 
His tone sounds like he’s already been defeated without a full fight, giving in without any resistance. 
The boss you know would have to be physically dragged out of this arcade, his loud protests probably being capable of deafening those that want to take away his prize possession. 
“Wait, just like that?” For once, you’re the one that’s more upset, “You love this place.”
His features twist, “Well yeah, but‒” 
“This is coming from you, the same person that tried having a disco day at the arcade to attract customers and forced me to wear a rainbow coloured wig with roller skates because ‘it goes with the flow’ and ‘the entire vibe would be ruined’ if i didn’t!” 
Jungkook stares at you wide-eyed and you scoff in disbelief, gaze connecting with the bookcase stationed in the corner of the room, “At one point, we even hauled in that giant thing together when you were convinced that the youngsters are ‘reading too much these days’ and that we’ll lose popularity to a hair salon next door that was giving out free magazines in their waiting room!” 
“You seem to remember a lot of the things I’ve done....”
“I’m not done!” You wave a finger at him, ignoring his astonished expression and continuing with your rant, “There was even a time when you used me to distribute flyers and made me shout that ‘there’s no place I would want to work at beside Jeon’s arcade’, which by the way, is pretty much the opposite of how I feel!” 
Jungkook lets out a snort at that, to which you direct an angry glare in his direction. Your rambles continue as he fondly watches you, somehow managing to spur up a spark of hope that was diminishing by the minute inside him. 
“So you’re telling me that the same person that was responsible for all that is willingly going to give up his arcade?” You plant your hands on your waist, raising a challenging eyebrow at him, “Are you sure you’re my boss?” 
“You’re right.” Jungkook honestly confesses, “This place means a lot to the both of us and we can’t let it head down under because some posh guy wants to own it.” 
He raises up a fist, looking more determined as ever, “I’m not letting anyone take it from me without a fight.” 
You cross your arms, a smirk rising on your lips. 
“Now that’s the boss I know.” 
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“Jungkook, this is stupid.” You protest, the icy breeze from outside already nipping at your skin. Your boss spins around on his heels, his determination still overflowing. 
“How is having some faith stupid?” 
“It’s stupid when you drag me out at 7 in the morning without a coat to make a damn wish.” You bite back, barely able to feel your toes as you walk behind him through the village. 
“I don’t feel cold.” He proudly announces. 
“You’re shivering.” You point out, his chattering teeth and quivering form already being a dead giveaway thanks to his need in retaining his weird get-up out of the arcade. 
“Shivering? That’s nonsense, I don’t feel the c-c-cold.” You let out a sigh, unraveling your scarf in the midst of his protests. Instead of handing it to him, you toss it over his head and he whirls around, frowning at you. 
“Take it.” You mumble, not noticing him eventually wrapping it around himself as if it was desperate to retain some heat. You walk ahead of him, halting your steps and glancing around confused. 
“So where’s this headstone you’ve been obsessing about?” 
Jungkook squints, “It should be somewhere her‒OH!” 
You whip around, watching Jungkook jog over to a small landmark at the side of the trail. Treading cautiously after him, you notice a structure made up of granite, appearing like a round ball that was placed on a stick. 
You tilt your head, “This is the ARMY headstone?” 
“It protects the entire village!” Jungkook chides, “Don’t you know that?” 
“Yeah, yeah, it protects us and we protect it in return.” You wave away it’s history. Unlike others the stone simply just existed for you, not being as ‘special’ or ‘glorious’ as it was for the other villagers. 
“We need to make a wish to save the arcade.” He firmly states, eyeing you for an answer. You let out a sigh, eventually mumbling out the words in the most monotone voice. 
“Please save our arcade.” You turn to Jungkook, “There, happy?” 
There’s a smug smile on Jungkook’s lips and you scoff, glancing around as he makes his wish. Your eyes roam around the expanses of the village, landing on an individual scurrying around with bright teal hair and dressed in a uniform. 
Your eyes instantly light up, “Namjoon!” 
He notices you right away, jogging over in an instant. 
“Y/N?” He says astonished, “I haven’t seen you around in a while, how have you been?” 
“Ah, just the usual.” You shrug, “I’m always at the game room these days.” 
A laugh slips from him and you smile, but you don’t notice the gaze Jungkook throws in your direction. 
“Find any new auditions recently?” 
“Ah no, I’m still trying though.” He professes, “I’ve been saving up in case I actually manage to get one.” 
“You’ll find one soon, I’m sure of it.” 
Namjoon sheepishly scratches the back of his neck, a dust of pink on his cheeks, “You know...there’s this new movie playing in the theatre….”
He rummages through his pockets, pulling out two tickets. “I’ve heard really good things about it.” 
Your eyes spark, reaching out for them, “Oh, that would be so ni‒” 
The tickets are instantly snatched away from you, an arm wrapping around your shoulders. 
“That does sound lovely!” Jungkook smiles, “Thanks for the tickets RM!” 
Namjoon glances between the two of you, “O-Oh…” He meekly laughs, “I-I hope you guys enjoy….” 
He takes a step back, waving at you. “Guess I’ll see you around then Y/N....” 
You watch his fading back in dismay, barely able to say goodbye to him as he rushes away. 
The moment he’s gone, you spin around and glare at Jungkook. “What the hell?! I wanted to go with him!” 
“Too late.” Jungkook cheekily smiles, “Now you have me~” 
A deep frown settles on your features, “Perfect. Just perfect.” You shake your head, “Not only do I have to see my boss at work, but now I have to go watch a movie with him.” 
“I know right?” Jungkook leans forward, “Who is this boss of yours by the way? He sounds like an incredible person.” 
“Oh, he’s great ‒ great at being annoying.” You huff as Jungkook laughs at your silly taunt, practically skipping behind you as you return back to the arcade. 
In the midst of your banter though, you don’t notice the particular pattern Jungkook’s shoes leave in the soil. 
***
Upon returning, you and Jungkook get to work right away. 
“What about a slogan?” You suggest, “Something that catches people’s eye and gets stuck in their minds?” 
Jungkook places a contemplating finger against his mouth. It’s not long before his fingers are snapping, a bright glint sparking up in his eyes. 
“Jeon’s arcade is the best.” His pupils are wide and there’s a giant grin spread on his features, but it clashes with your muted expression. 
You raise an eyebrow, “Jeon’s arcade is the best…?” 
He snaps his fingers again, shaking his head, “It’s great, I’m telling you. It’ll catch on within days.” 
A dreary sigh leaves your lips, “How about something less...prideful?” Your eyes twinkle, “Like come down to Jeon’s arcade for a brand new experience?” 
Jungkook scrunches up his nose, “That sounds awful.” 
“It’s better than declaring you have the best arcade.” You mumble. 
“It is the best arcade!” He pursues his lips, before finally muttering in defeat, “And technically the only one here…”
You’re about to suggest that maybe rearranging things in the game room would help for better promotion, but the lights begin to flicker.
“Wha‒” You’re unable to finish your sentence, the entire room plunging into complete darkness. 
“Jungkook?” You question in concern, carefully shuffling your feet around. There’s a slight movement that brushes by your arm, your head spinning instantly. 
“I think it’s a power outage.” He confirms, and you can hear the soles of his feet pacing around the room, “Let me see if I can find the backup generator…” 
You hear some scrambling and shuffling around, until it’s accompanied by a loud thud and a sharp “ow!”. 
“Are you okay?” You ponder, only receiving a dismay groan from him. 
“I’m fine, but why is your voice coming from the machines?” 
You blink, “Because that’s where I’m standing?” 
“What?” Jungkook says in disbelief, “I could have sworn‒” 
In an instant, light floods the room. Your eyes are rounded as they finally peer around, noticing Jungkook at the other end of the room with his eyelids screwed shut and holding onto his foot. 
His lids flutter open, taken aback with your appearance. A sudden thump resonates against the floorboard. 
You and Jungkook can only stare at each other petrified at the sound of feet moving about while both of you remain stationary. 
Swallowing down his unease, Jungkook places a finger on his lips, gesturing for you not to let out a peep. He carefully steps forward, keeping the silence in the room intact to peer over at the counter. 
A man suddenly pops his head out, a pout resting on his plush lips. 
Jungkook staggers back, placing a hand against his racing heart. 
“What are you doing here?!” 
The man tilts his head to the side, looking down and then dusting himself off. There’s a black beret sitting on his head, a white-collared shirt overlapping with two suspenders that connect to his brown trousers. He continues to pout, eyes glancing around the counter until they stop on a circular object. 
“Ah, there it is!” He excitedly whispers, wrapping his fingers around the large magnifying glass. Jungkook’s eye twitches, strutting up and grabbing onto the man’s shoulder. 
“Hey! I asked what you’re doing here!” 
He frowns, “Are you always this rude to people?” 
Jungkook scoffs, but you interject, voice confused. 
“Jin?” 
His eyes snap up to you, “Oh, hi Y/N.” 
“What are you doing here?” 
“Investigating.” He immediately says, raising his magnifying glass. He begins walking around the room, a curious look to his eyes. “How long have the two of you been here?” 
“Since the power went out.” You answer. 
“Fascinating.” He continues his stroll, only faltering when Jungkook pulls at one of his suspenders from behind. 
He appears annoyed from the former barely acknowledging him. “Why are you in my arcade trying to investigate, Jin?!” 
Jin spins around, smacking his instrument against Jungkook’s head. 
“Ow!” 
“That’s Detective Jin to you, Mister.” He shakes his head in dismay, “Seriously, where have your manners gone, Kook?”
He glances at Jungkook, “And to answer your prior question, there’s been a recent crime in BTS Village. I’m here to solve it.” 
“A crime?” You cross your arms, “What makes you think the arcade has anything to do with it?” 
“Well, it’s not so much the arcade that has something to do with it…” He suddenly twirls around, pointing his giant magnifying glass at Jungkook who looks baffled, “But someone that might play a hand in the crime.”
You peer over his shoulder, noticing him narrowing in on Jungkook’s eye as the latter stiffens. 
A scoff leaves your lips, “You’re drawing an absurd conclusion.” 
“Oh really, Y/N?” He spins around, nearly whipping you in the face with the glass, “Perhaps you were at the crime scene too then?” 
He begins scrutinizing you, and you uncomfortably shift from the glass being pointed at your eye this time. 
Jungkook huffs, straightening up his clothes. “Don’t you use that magnifying glass to see how big your mouth is half the time?” 
Jin raises his head, suddenly feeling offended. A snort leaves you, further fueling his dismay. 
“Trying to use a personal connection on a detective now, are we?” 
Jungkook plants his hands on his hips, “Well, this detective showed up at my arcade out of nowhere and is interrogating the hell out of me and my employee without any proof.” 
Jin smiles, “Proof! Of course!” 
He moves at the speed of wind, racing around the game room as you and Jungkook hurriedly trail after him. He stops right at the front, a small shoe rack capturing his interest immediately. 
He starts tossing them aside one by one. 
“Hey, stop!” Jungkook scrambles to catch them before they land on the ground, “Those are expensive!” 
“Timberlands?” Jin questions, eyeing one certain beige pair before tossing it away too, “You need better taste, kid.” 
Jungkook practically shoots out his arm in efforts to catch it, but it slips from his grasp and you dive forward, grasping onto it instantly. 
“This is ridiculous.” You huff, “Jungkook hasn’t done anything, Jin.” 
He hums, rising onto his feet. “Is that so, Y/N? Then how about you explain this?” 
Whirling around, he points towards the base of one of Jungkook’s slippers, the same ones he hastily put on when he pushed for you to come with him to the headstone. 
You narrow your eyes, not grasping onto his dramatic revelation, “It’s a slipper. You know, people use them for their feet…?” 
“Not just any slipper!” Jin waves it in the air, far too close to your face as you grimace, “But evidence! Evidence that was at the crime scene during the time of the crime!” 
He pulls out a photograph, showing a footprint that matches up to the shoe, “Someone knocked over and broke our precious ARMY headstone and that person is standing right in front of me!” 
Jungkook looks as much at a loss of words as you do. You can’t deny that Jin is wrong, the picture in his hands and the slipper looking similar. The problem is you know what events transpired, having been with Jungkook as he pushed you to make a wish before speaking with Namjoon. 
There’s no way he could have done anything. 
“I-I…” Jungkook begins. 
“You did it! Mystery solved.” 
“What?” You snap, stalking up to Jin, “This is prosperous, you need more evidence than just a footprint!” 
“Oh? Is that denial I hear?” Jin cheekily questions, cupping his ear and leaning closer to you. Your lips settle into a firm line, teeth gritting. 
“Not denial, but facts.” You place a hand against Jungkook’s shoulder, “I was with Jungkook when the footprint was made and I know he’s innocent.” 
“A counteract argument!” Jin says in excitement, “Fascinating!” 
You let out a groan, “Jungkook is innocent, Jin.” 
“I am.” He hurriedly says, hoping it would do something to diminish the detective’s accusations. Jin’s eyes sink down, puzzlement crossing his features. 
He keenly eyes you, voice no longer childish, “He’s going to be the prime suspect.” 
“He’s innocent.” You press forward again, causing the detective to stare at you for a moment before letting out a long exhale. 
“Prime suspect.” Jin announces again, pretending to write down on an imaginary clipboard. His voice morphs, spiking up in volume, “I won’t stop until I catch who it is! Even if it’s you!” 
The door is yanked open and Jin struts out, closing it on his way. You let out a relieved sigh, pressing a hand against your temples. 
Jungkook being a prime suspect means that Jin doesn’t have the power to turn him in and he’s given you some time to figure out things as well. 
He hasn’t taken his suspicions away, but at least he’s given you some leeway. 
Jungkook’s desperate eyes connect with yours and you know what you have to do. 
Your boss is innocent, and you’re going to prove it. 
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A loud bell dings as the door is shoved open, a huff leaving your lips. The shop is close to being semi-busy, a couple of customers planted down in seats and facing elongated decorated mirrors. Save for a couple of heads that turn in your direction, your eyes rake around. 
Your brows are furrowed, a crease forming in between them. 
A flash of white whizzes by your sight, your hand instantly snapping out and grabbing onto their collar. 
A scream leaves the man’s lips, his eyes wide and petrified. They lock immediately onto yours and within seconds he’s slipping away from your hold, trying to make a run for it. 
His voice screeches as he runs around the salon with a pair of scissors, “The culprit is here! The culprit is here!” 
The showcase sends his customers into a frenzy, voices spiking up into the mayhem and a handful staring at you in horror. 
“Hey, Chatterbox!” You scoff, “Come back here!” 
You chase after him as he wails, bumping back and forth into his clients with no regard. You eventually grab a hold of his shoulder, a squeal leaving his mouth. 
“NO!!” He cries, “Spare me, please!” 
He tussles around within your grasp, “Hoseok!” 
Abruptly freezing, he stares at you from behind his giant glasses, “Y-Yes?” 
“I need to talk to you.” You profess, noticing the way his scissors are still held up in defense, as if they possessed enough of an ability to scare you away. 
The sound of shutter snaps your attention away, your head whipping around to see a particular lens pointed towards you. It’s pulled down, a man with keen cat-like eyes and a resting pout examining its contents. 
“Picture of the culprit.” His deep voice hums, seemingly satisfied. You tug away the camera from his hold, still keeping a tight grasp on Hoseok before he flies away from you. 
“For ARMY sake‒” You scowl, noticing the apparent ‘frightening’ angle of you in the picture. Shoving it back at him, you hiss, “Delete it now, Yoongi.” 
His eyes narrow, clearly not enthusiastic with the suggestion. You glare right back at him, suddenly realizing why you don’t swing by Hoseok’s salon or his photography shop often. 
With a sigh, Yoongi deletes it and you let go of Hoseok, crossing your arms. 
You hold up a finger, “First off, I’m not the culprit, and neither is Jungkook. Let’s get that straight from the start.” Hoseok opens his mouth like he wants to interrupt, “I’ll take questions at the end.” 
He closes his mouth, a ㅅ shape taking over. “Second off, I’m here because I want to know who the true culprit is.” You take a step forward, eyeing Hoseok, “And I think the local gossiper can give me the details I want.” 
Hoseok’s eyes are wider than before, his hands fumbling around with his scissors. Although he doesn’t care to admit it, you know the village folk feel extremely comfortable around him, willing to spill out all their secrets and desires with no mind over the naive and tender boy’s head. 
Even to the point of professing some oh so good reasoning about a particular headstone. 
Yoongi tilts his head to the side, clutching onto his camera, “How do we know you’re not trying to cover up your own tracks from the crime?” 
Hoseok’s irises sway from you to him, growing only larger in size. You shake your head with a sigh, aware of the latter’s protectiveness towards his childhood friend. 
“Because the crime was committed during a power outage….while me and Jungkook were at the arcade…..” 
The truth sounded a lot better in your head. You can see Yoongi’s gears turning, his gaze becoming more and more scrutinizing. 
To your surprise, he suddenly clears his throat, taking a step back. 
“Okay.” 
“Okay?” 
“What?” He raises a brow, “Do you want me not to trust you?” 
“No.” You deadpan, “I just thought you would ask more questions.” 
Yoongi shrugs, “You barely pay any attention to the headstone in the first place. Plus Jungkook isn’t the type to break something he’s been making wishes to since being a kid.” 
You blink, astonished with the analysis. Yoongi turns to Hoseok, nodding his head as the latter hesitantly begins to speak up. 
“T-There’s a rumour…” He whispers, causing the two of you to lean in, “I-I didn’t mean to spread it! I-I just thought it was interesting and my clients like to hear stories of the village while I-I’m cutting their hair‒” 
“What is it, Hoseok?” Yoongi wonders as you hum. 
His pupils oscillate on the ground, hands fumbling with his scissors. 
“Treasure.” He heaves, glancing up at the two of you, “There’s a rumour of the headstone housing treasure.” 
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He tilts his head to the right. 
The giant magnifying glass in his hand follows the direction, inflating the image of the remains from the headstone by tenfold. 
Planting one of his hands on his hips, the other comes forth to stroke his invisible beard. His legs swing, about to turn back to head towards the arcade again. 
“Find anything yet?” 
A scream escapes him. 
Jungkook stands before him, covering his ears as Jin places a hand against his racing heart. 
“You frightened me!” Jin scolds, narrowing his eyes, “What are you doing here?!” 
Jungkook frowns, “I’m not the culprit.” 
“Sure, that’s what they all say!” Jin begins walking down the trail near the headstone as Jungkook closely follows behind. 
“So….” 
“What?” 
“Did you find anything yet?” He questions hopefully, doe eyes twinkling at his elder. The man before him sighs, aiming his glass piece at the trail before him. 
He suddenly crouches down, scrutinizing another footprint. 
“I’m not telling you anything, Kook.” 
“But why!” He practically whines, childishly clinging onto Jin’s arm, “Come on, you’ve known me since I was a kid. Does this look like the face of someone that would break the headstone?” 
He gestures to himself as Jin stares, purposely widening his eyes and putting on a pout. 
Jin smacks the back of his tool against his head, causing Jungkook to wince. “Stop getting cute with me.” 
Jungkook’s eyes sway, “I-I’m not getting cute….” 
“Uh-huh.” Jin reminisces, looking around the headstone carefully again. There’s a furrow between his brows as he picks up a chuck of the stone, bringing it up to examine. 
“Find anything?” 
The stone piece nearly slips from Jin’s fingers as Jungkook peers over his shoulder wide-eyed, appearing more like a naive child than the owner of an arcade.  
“Will you stop doing that?!” Jin scolds, growing irritated by the moment with Jungkook’s interventions. The latter pouts, desperation leaking into his irises. 
“Then tell me something.” At Jin’s withering gaze, Jungkook pulls out all sorts of cuteness he wouldn’t be caught doing in daylight, “Please.” 
Jin rolls his eyes, sight landing right on top of the headstone. 
“Blue Village..…” 
It’s so incredibly faint, but Jungkook’s ears catch onto it right away. 
“What?” 
“Blue Village.” Jin says louder this time, his brow twitching. Clearing his throat, he lowers his voice again, “I think someone from Blue Village did it.” 
Jungkook’s eyes are instantly enlarging, features contorting into a sudden epiphany. 
“Now leave me alone!” Jin says, pushing him away, “I have mysteries to solve!” 
Jungkook nods in an instant, a smile curving on his lips at the new piece of information. 
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It’s not long before you’re pacing towards the arcade, surprised to see Jungkook already there and buzzing with energy. His eyes light up with your presence, lips moving immediately. 
“Treasure!” 
“Blue Village!” 
You stare at each other for a moment, confused with the notion. “Wait, Blue Village? What about them?” 
“Jin says that someone from Blue Village might be responsible.” Jungkook explains, scrunching his brows together, “What do you mean by treasure?” 
“Hoseok told me that there’s treasure underneath the headstone.” Your eyes sparkle, “That means someone who needs money probably broke it.” 
Jungkook grimaces, “Shoot.” 
“What?” 
“I need money.” He honestly states. Your features twist up with the fact, acknowledging that your tidbit on the situation wouldn’t work well in his favour. 
Shaking the thoughts away, you pursue more information, “Who do you think did it?” 
Jungkook doesn’t respond to you, instead he stares outside the arcade’s glass exterior. Puzzled, you turn around to see what he’s staring at, only to see a young boy dressed in a yellow shirt and blue overalls walking by. 
He appears to be within his own world, a dreamy smile curving up on his cheeks and a colourful lollipop in his hand. His eyes instantly connect with yours, crinkling up into half moons as he waves over to you and Jungkook. 
You return his gesture with a smile, but Jungkook had a sneering look in his stare. 
“I hate that guy.” He spits out, drawing out perplexment from you. 
“What?” You spin around, pointing to the oblivious boy. “Leader Jimin?” 
Jungkook hums and you shake your head, watching an angelic smile take over the boy’s features. “How could you possibly hate him?” 
Suddenly, something sparks within his eyes. He turns to you, determination spiking his gaze. 
“He’s the one that broke the headstone.” 
You let out an exhale of dismay, “He didn’t.” 
“He’s from Blue Village.” Jungkook says, as if all the clues finally made sense, “No one know where he came from or what his background is. It makes perfect sense!” 
“You’re starting to make up conclusions like Jin now.” 
“He could use the money!” Jungkook snaps his fingers, “I heard that he’s been living at the village doctor’s house and pays rent!” 
At your look of disbelief, he smirks, “Rent gets expensive, Y/N. Don’t you know that?” 
“He’s innocent.” You protest, shaking away his accusations, “He’s a happy person that just wandered into our village one day. He looks like he can’t even hurt a fly!” 
At the moment, Jimin lets out a giggle, one of the village kids smiling brightly up at him. 
Jungkook narrows his eyes, a hum leaving him. 
“Wait, you’re right.”
“See‒?” 
Jungkook deadpans, “He’s an idiot.” 
“He is not an idiot.” You’re about to list more reasons as to why, but you notice Jimin walking away to ‘lead’ the children behind him, not realizing that one of them has stolen his lollipop and the rest are trying to fight the child for it. 
He breaks out in a daze of giggles, happy to be their leader. 
Your features scrunch up, “Okay, maybe he is, but‒” 
Jungkook smirks like you have no option but to agree with him. Before you have the chance to prove him wrong, there’s a knock outside the arcade door. 
A trail of goosebumps spike up on your arm, the look of annoyance on Jungkook’s features telling you enough of who's at the door. 
However, this time there’s no intrigue, just a simple big white label possessively planting against the wall. 
“I heard you’re not doing so well financially,” Richman V states, “This arcade should be mine soon.” 
Jungkook’s jaw drops at the man’s blatant actions, orbs following him around as he continues to plaster his labels all over his precious arcade. 
You beat him at the chance to intervene. 
“This arcade isn’t yours.” You tug at his sleeve, only for Richman V to spin around and plant a label smack against your forehead. 
“Everything I label, I possess.” He interjects, “This arcade will be mine, and so will everything that comes along with it.” 
He passes by you and begins sticking on more labels. You huff, ripping off the label and smacking it onto a nearby wall. “I am not going to work for you.” 
“Yes, you are.” He states, like it shouldn’t even be in question. “You work in this arcade. The arcade will belong to me. Your services will be mine.” A smile curves on his lips, “You should be happy. I’ll at least be a proficient boss.” 
Your eye twitches and Jungkook looks like he wants to interject, but you scramble around, locating a pen. 
Taking one of his possessive labels, you scratch out his name and scribble on Jungkook’s before sticking it back onto one of the machines. 
“You can’t take this arcade because it doesn’t belong to you.” You huff, grasping his attention. “And I already have a great boss, thank you very much.” 
Jungkook blinks wide-eyed as Richman V stares at you, clearly annoyed with your meddling. Turning around, he leans closer, looking at you eye to eye. 
“I own every property in BTS Village, and this arcade won’t be an exception.” 
Without another word, he leaves, a clutter of his labels all over the walls and machines. Your eyes are sharpened, lips twisted with suppressed fury as you pluck off the flimsy pieces of paper that demand its ownership. 
“Who does that guy think he is?” You rant as Jungkook silently watches you, “I mean sure, label all your things. Your toothbrush, your comb, whatever.” 
Kneeling down, you narrow your eyes at the one he’s managed to stick behind the counter before tearing it off, “But a place he doesn’t even own? Talk about really wanting to possess stuff.” 
“Did you mean it…” 
Jungkook’s voice is soft, near quiet. 
You turn around, bafflement crossing you. “Well yeah, he seems like kind of a jerk and wanting to possess an arcade after all he has seems like a petty list of things a person would want to own‒” 
Jungkook shakes his head, stopping your ramble. “Before that. About me being a great boss….” 
You stare at him like a deer in headlights, clearly caught off guard. Freezing in place, you open and close your mouth a couple of times, no words managing to come out. 
Instead, a pink hue dusts over your skin. 
“Well, I...I-I did say that…” You attempt to begin, “And I...well‒” 
“Fascinating.” 
Your eyes snap up at the sound of a third voice, noticing Jin leaning behind the counter as he listens into your conversation. Jungkook immediately swivels around, placing a hand against his racing heart. 
“Can you call or something the next time you show up?!’ He angrily retorts, only for Jin to completely ignore him and step forward. 
He walks straight towards the shoe rack, plucking up the pair of slippers Jungkook wore to the headstone. He drops them with a hum, walking over to the counter again to flip through some paper sheets, something that has Jungkook scrambling forward. 
“Why are you looking at my accounts?!” 
“It all makes sense now.” 
Jin finally speaks up, pointing an accusatory finger towards Jungkook, “YOU DID IT!” 
“I’ve already told you that I’m not the culprit!” 
“Really?!” Jin challenges, “We found your footprint. You’re the one in need of money and tried to get the treasure underneath the headstone.” 
He suddenly glances around, like he was still collecting proof against Jungkook’s case. 
His eyes land onto the battered mallet used for Jungkook’s whac-a-mole machine, raising it in the air. 
“Aha!” He exclaims, “This is what you broke it with!” 
“Actually he broke that mallet because he’s ridiculously competitive and was prepared to win at any cost.” You interject, arms crossed.
“Oh….” 
Jungkook deadpans at Jin’s dwindling resolve, an impassive and unimpressed expression spreading over his features. 
“You really don’t know what you’re doing, do you?” 
“Of course I do!” Jin protests, grabbing a small book from his back pocket. He vigorously flips through the pages, eyes twinkling, “I told you about Blue Village being involved!” 
Jungkook’s eyes widen, “Leader Jimin did it!” 
You attempt to hush him down, but Jin cocks up a brow, baffled with the suggestion. 
“What? That kid?” Jungkook nods, “Nah, he’s an angel. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.” 
Offense is written all over Jungkook, “Then what am I?!” 
“A greedy game owner!” Jin accuses, only for Jungkook to sigh. 
“I’m innocent, Jin.” He desperately glances in your direction, “Just ask Y/N!” 
“She’s probably plotting with you!!” 
“Excuse me?” You scoff, about to give your two cents on the ridiculousness of the conversation until the sound of small ding resonates through the room. 
A pair of two small feet come to a stop, wide eyes staring at the three individuals in front of him. 
You recognize him immediately as the boy that came to your game room the day you had barren business. 
“Oh, it’s you.” 
Jungkook perks up, “The kid who Y/N paid for!” 
Jin whips around, narrowing his eyes at Jungkook and prepares to write in his book. “Excoriating money from our employee’s now, are we?” 
“I willingly paid for him.” You correct right away, aware that Jin seemed to be on Jungkook’s tail no matter what. Spinning around, you crouch down to view the boy, “What are you doing here?” 
“I saw the headstone marked as a crime scene.” He speaks, peeking around with wide eyes. “I wanted to see the Detective.” 
Jin immediately pushes forward, adjusting his hat and leaning down with his notebook. 
“Do you know anything about how it was broken?” 
The boy nods, “I was on my way to school when I saw two people walking to the headstone. One of them was dressed very fancy and the other one had blue hair.” 
“Richman V and RM!” Jungkook exclaims, only for Jin to hush him down. 
“It’s too early to draw conclusions!” 
Jungkook scoffs, “So drawing conclusions about me without evidence wasn’t too early?!”
“Did he have bronze hair?” You immediately question, and the boy nods, “Was the other one wearing a box office uniform?” 
He nods again, “They were talking to each other but not in a nice way. I think they were fighting.” 
“They were fighting?” Jungkook wonders, staring at you in disbelief. 
“Hold it!” Jin exclaims, moving towards the boy. He points towards you and Jungkook, expression keen, “Did you see these two near the headstone?” 
He places a finger against his chin, a spark lighting up in his eyes, “I did!” 
“AHA‒” 
 “But they were making a wish together when the headstone wasn’t broken.” 
“….oh?” Jin whispers, his pen freezing in place. The boy smiles, gazing at you. 
“I hope your wish came true.” 
You return his smile, “Thanks for coming by, kid.” 
He nods, waving at Jungkook and Jin before you open the door and let him rush home. 
Silence reigns heavy in the arcade room.
Jin eventually clears his throat. 
His voice is considerably quiet, nowhere near the loud and dramatic tone you were accustomed to hearing. 
“It seems like I’ve made a mistake…” 
“Seems like?!” Jungkook angrily shouts, but Jin coxes him right away. 
“Mistakes can happen! Someone can look guilty and end up not being…” 
Jungkook has a “are you serious?” expression and Jin cheekily smiles, before racing towards the door. 
“Oh wow, would you look at the time?? I’ll catch up with you guys later!” The door is shutting close before you can even utter another word, your eyes rolling at the man's catastrophe. 
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This just in! 
Famous Property Owner and Dealer Richman V and Box Office Employee RM caught for destroying one of the more treasured possessions of BTS Village! 
Thanks to the testimony of one boy, more eyewitnesses were found and several pieces of evidence led to the duo facing charges. It is said that RM needed the money to attend an audition and had tried to negotiate with Richman V for help near the headstone. Richman V, who was facing the displeasure of not obtaining a particular arcade in the village, wanted to know about the mysterious treasure hidden deep beneath the stone. Sources suggests that two were baffled about the broken headstone and attempted to cover up the accident by‒
“Oh, would you just get to the good part already?!” Jungkook slams his fist against the counter, desperation leaking into his voice. 
You let out a sigh, scrolling through the newspaper until you find the excerpt. Clearing your throat, you mimic your best anchor voice again. 
Initially, Detective Jin from BTS Village had suspicions on a certain game room owner that goes by the name of Jeon Jungkook, but with further investigation done, it was found that he was at the crime scene prior to the incident and was deemed innocent. 
“Well, it’s nice hearing someone say I’m innocent.” Jungkook remarks, leaning against his hand on his cheek. 
The newspaper is yanked down, “I said you were innocent.” 
“Of course you did!” He proclaims, “Why else would you want to turn your innocent boss in?” 
“I can think of a couple of reasons.” You mumble underneath your breath, only for Jungkook to pout. “What?” 
“I’m still broke as hell.” He shifts his attention to his account book on the counter, lazily flipping through the pages. “Business has been better, but I’m still not making enough money.” 
You roll your eyes, aware that business truthfully has been better thanks to your combined efforts and that it would take time for some stable revenue to roll in, as long as Jungkook’s dramatics don’t manage to interfere. 
“Maybe you should hire a different employee instead of me.” You sassily retort, “Let’s see what happens to business then.” 
Jungkook narrows his eyes, “Why on earth would I do that?”
“Because you’re ‘losing’ money.” You exaggerate in the same tone he used.  
“Nah, I’m never going to get rid of you.” He softly says, “You always have my back.”
For a moment, you just blink your eyes. Turning around, you’re expecting a cocky smirk on his lips or a teasing raise of his brows.
Instead, you’re met with sincere eyes and a genuine smile, something that nearly has the newspaper in your hands slipping from your hands. 
You slowly open your mouth to respond. 
“Why are the two of you having a staring contest?” 
Both you and Jungkook whip around, watching Jin poke at one of the machines with a frown on his face. 
Jungkook’s jaw drops down, “What are you doing here?!” 
Jin looks at him taken aback, the anger in his voice prevalent. “What? Were you two having a moment or something?” 
You avert your eyes as Jungkook’s brow twitches. 
He shakes his head, a whine escaping him, “Why are you here, Jin?” 
“Oh!” He pipes up, “Are you hiring at the moment by any chance?” 
“What?” 
Jin cheekily smiles, “So my reputation as a detective kind of went sour with this recent case, you know, with suspecting and falsely accusing someone innocent and‒ what are you doing?” 
He’s being effortlessly lifted by Jungkook, before being planted right outside of the arcade. 
Jungkook closes the door shut, sending him a friendly wave with a strained smile as Jin scoffs.
“Oh come on, JK!” 
“Come back when I really am innocent!” He childishly laughs as Jin throws a fit of anger from the display. 
Jungkook glances in your direction almost as if to gauge your reaction to his antics, but you simply smile and shake your head with a roll of your eyes. 
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Jungkook snaps his fingers. 
“This entire place should have a makeover!” He springs up from his seat from his revelation, pacing around the room, “We can take out the bookcase and maybe add more machines, we could even paint the walls maybe like a royal blue, put some speakers here‒….” 
You lounge on one of the chairs as you watch your boss continuing his ramble, eyes follow along with the speed of his legs as he practically pounces around the place. 
It’s been a while since the ARMY headstone mystery has been resolved, and aside from helping Detective Jin with getting a job after Jungkook’s refusal of hiring another employee, you’ve come to terms with yourself. 
You have feelings for your boss. It’s plain obvious.  
The problem lies in the fact that you work with him, meaning that no matter what you do and say, he’s naturally inclined to believe that you’re simply doing him a favour as an employee. 
A sigh leaves your lips as you lean back in your chair. 
Jungkook whirls around, childlike excitement sparking in his large doe eyes, “Well?” 
You abruptly blink, realizing that you hadn’t caught onto a single thing he said because you were too caught up in your own head. 
Standing up, you pat his shoulder and walk over to the counter, “Let’s discuss this later.” 
“What?” Jungkook watches your fading form, a crease forming between his brows, “A-Are you sure? You seem to be really out of it these days, Y/N.” 
At the hint of concern in his voice, your eyes widen, “Uh, yeah!” You nervously laugh, “I seriously doubt we’ll figure it all out in one day.” 
Jungkook pursues his lips, “Hm, that’s true.” 
He smiles and you wipe away the sweat from your temples, a relieved exhale leaving you. 
***
You have to confess to him. 
You’ve been thinking about it all night long, and as soon as the sun rose this morning, you were determined to tell Jungkook how you felt about him. You’ve already come up with a bunch of ways to convince him that yes, you like him in case he dips into his notorious denial, and even were prepared for any spouts of panic that might burst out from your dynamic abruptly shifting. 
There’s nothing that can surprise you now. 
Your feet immediately slow down, mouth falling agape. 
In front of you is the arcade, and at the same time, you wonder if you’ve even arrived at the right shop. 
Gone are the large advertising and attention drawing signs, cardboard cutout replaced with navy blue and black speakers. The yellow and blue lights have been replaced with midnight black and white ones, soft music radiating out from the door. 
You continue to stare at it in puzzlement. 
The arcade you knew was loud and bold, noise drowning through into your ears and strobe lights nearly blinding you. 
Cautiously, you open the front door, your surprise simply magnifying with every step you take. 
The walls are coloured with a shade of dark blue, replacing the dull beige completely. The bookshelf has disappeared, replaced with new gaming machines instead of similar ones linked up in a row. 
One of them consists of a brand new whac-a-mole machine, your eyes flickering over the colorful display and shining mallet. 
“Y/N?!” A voice suddenly calls out, snapping you out of your awe-filled daze. Turning around, you don’t see your boss in sight. 
“Jungkook?” You call back out, only for the sound of boxes shifting resonating from the back room. 
“Just give me a minute!” 
You hum, picking up the mallet with a smile as you walk closer to the door. 
“What have you done to this place?” 
“You like it?” 
You inspect the instrument in your hand, “Yeah, it looks amazing….” 
His laughter seeps through the door, “That’s great! I just thought the place needed something different, you know? Almost like a re-opening.” 
The corner of your mouth lifts up, “From now on, Jeon’s arcade is a new experience for all!” 
You snort at the slogan, placing the mallet back down on the counter. That’s when your eyes focus onto the small bottle on the counter, the words ‘hair dye’ causing them to enlarge with size. 
As you grab onto it, the back door room opens and Jungkook emerges out, his blonde strands bright and damp with drops of water. 
He beams at you, doe eyes crinkling and a giant smile breaking out onto his features. 
“What do you think?” He eagerly asks, “Doesn’t it help with the new experience in here?” 
The hair dye bottle slips from your hands, no coherent words forming from the tip of your tongue as your mouth drops wide open. Jungkook can only stare in confusion as pink rapidly scatters across your features and it’s in that one sole moment you realize. 
No matter how hard you try, your boss always finds some way to surprise you. 
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baeklination · 3 years
Text
Room 4
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Date: 210621
Warnings: SMUT🔞, masturbation, mouth-fucking, standard fucking, voyeurism(-ish?)
Pairing: Baekhyun x F. Reader
WC: 1, 9k
Masterlist
¤¤
You whistle in jest when he comes out into the kitchen.
"I thought you were going to a fundraiser, not a hedonistic sex fest…"
Baekhyun's clothes are perfectly fine to wear where he's going, but he always makes things extra fine; his thin v-neck, nonchalantly tucked into the front his black leather trousers; a simple black blazer for a bit of class - and two silver necklaces for a little pizzazz. He's had a thing for the darker tones since he dyed his hair gray.
"If you don't hurry up I might bolt the door shut so you can't get out."
"As if you're not dying to have a night off", he smiles into the mirror, meeting your reflection while tidying his hair.
"I was..."
You can tell when he gets a feeling, just like now. He looks you straight in the eye - albeit via mirroring - with the tiniest narrowing of his eyes.
"Sleep in four tonight."
You lean back, happy.
"Phone..?"
"Off."
"Do you know what time you'll be home?"
"No. Late", he says, going to wiggle his feet into his shoes. "But don't stay up too long."
"I won't. Maybe I'll read Lee's dissertation on why dadaism really is the true impressionism…", you snort.
"Ooh, I know how you've been waiting to get your hands on that riveting read..!", Baekhyun jokes and gives you a kiss goodbye. "See you lat- tomorrow. Eight?"
"That's so long", you frown. “But okay.”
His delicate fingers push gently on the nape of your neck when he kisses you again.
"So touch yourself", he moans into your mouth before pulling away and leaving.
Having to wait until tomorrow to see Baekhyun isn't much fun, but knowing it's number four - actually - knowing that makes it worse, makes your underwear soaked as you keep replaying what you did last time:
“Where will you be?”
“I know you’ll keep looking over if I tell you”, he says. “You don’t know I’m there, remember?”
You skip clothes altogether save for a white satin robe; there isn’t much point in getting all done up when it’s coming off so quickly. And besides, Baek will no doubt assume you’ll be wearing something, panties at least, so he’ll choke when he finds out you aren’t.
You’re a bit jittery - pleasing yourself when you know he’s watching makes you a bit embarrassed, but it’s also what arouses you. Thinking about his cock getting so hard he has to release it and pump with a steady hand, careful not to come, as he looks on makes you slick and you can feel it as you walk around. You take a calming breath and open the door.
Luckily, you turned the light on beforehand, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to see a thing. And trying to look to see where Baekhyun might be hiding would be impossible - it’s near pitch black in your garden. You give the daybed a shove so it stands by the wall and prop some pillows up before you lean back, play-acting as if you’re just having a quiet night in. You don’t have to look to know how swollen your clit is, how the thick strings cover it and everything else. It may have been Baekhyun’s request - but it’s your pleasure. Putting on a show for him, you pretend to be a little coy. Pretend you’re embarrassed at being so aroused you HAVE to touch yourself. The truth is closer to you by now having to pace yourself, closer to your core pulsating - almost hurting - ‘cus you want it so bad.
You undo the knot on the robe and let the thin fabric fall from your shoulders to expose your breast. Your nipples are hard pebbles in your fingers, sending jolts down in between your legs as you stroke and pinch them. For him you wet your fingers, pushing them in and out of your mouth a few times before circling your nipple again. You can’t wait any longer. You spread your legs and caress your thigh downwards with one hand, the other still stroking your breast, and pull at your folds for Baekhyun to see the state you're in. Lightly you run a finger over your ass. You’re wet all the way down. Reaching under one of the pillows your hand finds the treasure you’ve put there previously; smooth, metallic silver - a perfect fit in your hand. Without any playing around you put it to your entrance and watch as the top slides in. Your hips lift instinctively as you drop your head back and let the dildo fill you completely. There is no resistance at all, you can easily hold it with just two fingers. Almost completely lost in the moment your first thought is that you’ve turned the vibration on, but see the lit screen on your phone when you look down. A text from Baekhyun: “Call me, don’t say anything. Put me on speaker.”
He picks up, saying nothing, so you put the phone by your legs and continue. You put a little extra volume in your moan to make sure he hears it; Baekhyun gets excruciatingly turned on by everything that has to do with you masturbating. Knowing he’s out there listening to the wet sound of your pussy, agonizing over whether to control himself or to just let himself go and orgasm makes the dildo a rather futile replacement. But a replacement nonetheless, so you turn the vibration on - jolting with a moan - and push it up to touch your sweet spot over and over, your chest rising higher, hand squeezing your breast harder. You put it on max and thrust as quickly as you can. The muscles in your ass tighten until you’re pushed over the edge, shaking, muscles going on and off without control as your orgasm pierces through you, stopping your breath in your throat.
You ride it out, even more fluids running out and look at your phone: Baekhyun’s ended the call. And no wonder - you can already hear him tearing through the house. He opens the door, his torso already naked and shakes his head with a smile as he walks up and pulls the rest off; his cock barely sways, that’s how stiff he is.
“How was it?”
Baekhyun rolls his eyes in appreciation and forces his cock down for you to take it in your mouth. Holding your head in his hands, he fucks you. Not violently, as if trying to get a gag reflex, but unhurried, because what he wants today is to be in your mouth, not have you choke and stop.
“Oh, baby…”, he moans, stroking your hair. “Oh, baby, you looked so pretty.”
His length fills you comfortably, lets you appreciate the veins and smoothness, the hardness contrasted by the bounce of the head, pre-cum brushed out on your tongue.
“I know you just- mmh...I know you just fucked yourself, but I’m gonna be a bit rough...”
You meet his eyes to tell him it’s okay. It’s more than okay - who wouldn’t want a man who loses his shit over you?
“Just bend over here.”
The daybed is lower than your kneeling position, so you get a natural arch in your back with your ass high up. Baekhyun groans with pleasure when he gets down behind you, eyeing the bottom of your swollen clit and drenched holes.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty…”, he says, and fills you up with his cock.
Different from before, where he wanted to be wrapped up in every bit of sensation, this time he pounds, pulls - practically claws at - you. It takes a lot to brace yourself, even with him holding you, but you don't mind - on the contrary - because you know what's going on in his mind when he's like this: "...as if I just have to come in you. I need my cum to be in you."
"Ah, shit… Aish…"
He pulls you back, arm around your neck, pulling on your waist to meet his shattering thrusts as he finally gets to orgasm.
You're already wide awake and waiting when the clock strikes eight. The day is like the room: gray and beautiful. One of those days you'd drive down to the Farmer's Market and pick up homemade foods like bread and marmalade to cosy down with back home, safely sheltered from the rain undoubtedly on it's way.
You get a jolt when your phone buzzes. It's a snippet from Baekhyun, four seconds of him stroking and slowly pumping himself, hard as a rock. That's all it takes - would take if you weren't already ready. You make a painting of yourself, laying on your side, letting the blanket drape off your legs, just about showing a bit of cheek.
When the door opens you keep looking out the window. A gust of cool air hits your back when Baekhyun lifts the blanket and presses himself up against you.
“Good morning”, he whispers with a voice still husky from sleep, pressing his groin against your ass.
“Morning, B.”
“I’m throbbing”, he groans, dragging his teeth on your neck. “I want you so bad…”
You press yourself closer to him, press his ass closer.
“Why didn’t you come in last night?”
“I did.” His breathing is so heavy behind your ear it’s only a matter of time before it gets damp with condensation. “The window. Look at it.”
It stirs deep in your core. Right in front of you there’s a translucent white stain, having dried in the midst of running down the window. So he was here last night. Probably pretending he wasn’t going to do anything, that he just couldn’t help himself when he saw you; he had to inch down those leather trousers and stroke himself. You could just imagine him leaning against the window while you were asleep...
"What got you so hot and bothered, Baekhyun?"
"I was thinking about how you couldn't keep your hands off this tight little pussy last time you were here…"
"If you'd come home earlier last night…", you say, opening your leg over his, feeling the cool air hit your juices.
Baekhyun runs his hand down your thigh.
"What did you do?", he asks in a deeper voice and slaps your pussy.
You yelp from the exhilarating pain.
“Always so dirty when you think no one’s looking...”
He nearly swallows you with his sloppy open-mouthed kisses before he moves on top of you, putting one leg over his shoulder, letting the other one rest between his legs. Holding on to your thigh, the angle allows his pelvis to push his cock deep inside, the head continuously landing in that pocket of pleasure: light as air, yet full at the same time.
“Don��t stop…”, you whisper faintly, stroking your breasts as you feel his thick length fill your inside over and over. “Fuck… Don’t stop, I’m gonna come...”
Baekhyun moans, picking up his speed, driving himself in hard and towards his own edge, but you get there first; the muscles in your lower body lock, spasming, to the beat of your chopped up whines. Baekhyun, being right after you, pulls you up to a half-straddle; leaning backwards on your arms you pray your shaky legs won’t give out from his pounding. Luckily, he trembles.
“Mm, baby...fuck”, he moans, keeping control of his tempo until he pulls you down on top of him, pressing tightly.
He lays his head against your forehead for a moment, before turning your face up to kiss you.
“Let’s stay in here today.”
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Texts from the Lost Tomb, part 5.2
Also yes this is a 5 part story arc, why do you ask, no I’m not “avoiding real life work”
Main Chat
Wang Pangzi: YOU KNOW THERE ARE THOSE WHO WOULD COMPLAIN ABOUT BEING DRAGGED OUT OF BED AT AN UNGODLY HOUR FOR THE SAKE OF SOME JEWELRY AND FORCED INTO AN ADVENTURE
Wu Xie: And we are just so grateful you are above all that.
Zhang Qiling: You were fully awake and insisted we pack and go as soon as possible in case there was, and I quote, “more weird shit happening we can cash in on.”
Wu Xie: I mean it’s kind of interesting that the Zhang family sent a car for us. We could have driven. So what is going on there, I wonder?
Wang Pangzi: YOU KNOW FOR A PARANOID AND CONNIVING LITTLE SHIT YOU STILL RADIATE OBLIVIOUS BAMBI ENERGY
HATE TO BE THE ADMIRAL ACKBAR HERE BUT ITS DEF A TRAP MY BOY
WHY DO U THINK WE ARE MESSAGING AND NOT TALKING DUMMY
WERE YOU IN A TOMB ON THE DAY THEY TAUGHT PPL STRANGER DANGER
BUT NO NO YOU WERE ALL “LETS GET IN THE VAN WITH THE FREE CANDY AND PUPPIES I BET WE’RE GOING TO THE CIRCUS”
THIS IS THE LAST STRAW IM LOJACKING YOU FOR REAL THIS TIME, SHOULDVE DONE THIS YEARS AGO
Zhang Qiling: I agree, in this particular case, with Pangzi. You should not have gotten in their vehicle while we were still inside the house. It forced us to follow you into the van to prevent separation, and they seemed to be expecting that. I don’t know whether Zhang Rishan intended this, but I don’t trust him.
Wu Xie: :( I got excited and didn’t think it through. I’m sorry.
Wang Pangzi: DONT YOU GIVE US THE BIG EYES WE ARE IMMUNE
MOSTLY
SPEAKING OF IMMUNE ITS REALLY FUCKIN COLD IN HERE AND UR STILL SICK, PUT YOUR JACKET ON STUPID
Wu Xie: oh relax, I’m fine. No fever at all today, remember? I feel a lot better, too.
Wang Pangzi: YOU LEAVE ME NO CHOICE BUT TO HAVE XIAO GE INTERVENE
Zhang Qiling: It is odd to say this, but Pangzi is right again. You are barely back on your feet and could easily get worse again. Wu Xie. Jacket. Now.
Wu Xie: Oh fine. Teaming up on me, I see. Happy now?
Wang Pangzi: FUCKING ECSTATIC. NOW BACK TO HOW WE MAY BE PULLING A LI CU
Wu Xie: If it is an abduction, it wouldn’t be them moving against the whole Wu family—not with Uncle Erbai in charge. Zhang Rishan strikes me as someone who doesn’t make a move unless he is sure of his plan, and this is all a bit last-minute to be a big shift. Besides, they let Xiao Ge keep his sword and we still have all our phones.
Wang Pangzi: TOOK AWAY MY EXPLOSIVES THO THE BASTARDS
Zhang Qiling: In fairness, you were waving them around and yelling that if they tried anything it was going to be “yippeekiyay motherfucker all up in this bitch.”
Wang Pangzi: IT SOUNDS LESS COOL COMING FROM YOU. I THINK I SEE THE TEAHOUSE?
Wu Xie: me too. That’s Zhang Rishan on the steps. This must be urgent. Everybody stay shiny.
Zhang Qiling: I will be getting out first. Wu Xie in the middle, Pangzi at the rear.
Wang Pangzi: AND WHAT A VIEW;)
An hour later…
Main Chat
Wu Xie: Is everyone okay? I tried knocking but nothing is getting through, these are some solid walls.
Wu Xie: guys???
Wang Pangzi: OOPS PHONE WAS ON SILENT AND I WAS BUSY YELLING AT THE CEILING
IM PRESENT AND PISSED OFF
Zhang Qiling: Apologies, I was trying to break down the door.
Wang Pangzi: SO THIS MAY NOT BE THE TIME TO SAY I TOLD YOU SO BUT WHILE WE’RE HERE
Wu Xie: fuck Pangzi, I know, okay??
I’m an idiot, I’m so fucking stupid. It’s not like it’s the first or fiftieth time I’ve put you two in danger, either.
Wang Pangzi: HEY HEY WHOA NOW
STOP SAYING RUDE SHIT ABOUT MY FRIEND
ITS GONNA BE OKAY
DESPITE KNOWING THIS WAS A BAD IDEA I STILL COULDNT PREDICT HOW MUCH CHAOTIC LUCK THIS FAMILY HAS
DAMN IT I HATE WHEN HEI XIAZI IS RIGHT ABOUT THINGS
Zhang Qiling: I’m sorry. This is my fault. My line has a ruthlessly pragmatic streak and they’ve clearly wanted to test us separately to see why the necklace reacted to our arrival like that. It does not excuse Zhang Rishan trapping us in these separate rooms.
Wang Pangzi: UHH BITCH I SAID THIS FAMILY NOT YOUR FAMILY
THIS AINT ABOUT THEM
YOUR FAMILY IS ON MY SHIT LIST EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY
THIS FAMILY MEANT US OBVS
UGH ANY SIGN OF THE BASTARDS?
Zhang Qiling: no. Wu Xie?
Zhang Qiling: Wu Xie, answer me.
Wang Pangzi: WU XIE
TIANZHEN
PICK UP YOUR FUCKING PHONE DAMNIT YOU'RE SCARING XIAOGE
Zhang Qiling: I’m going to try breaking down the door again.
Wu Xie: Hello, Wang Pangzi and Zhang Qiling. My apologies for the rather inhospitable circumstances, but this seemed expedient considering the unknown qualities of the necklace. I could not be sure who was causing what, or what could happen next, and thus have temporarily set you in separate rooms for the sake of everyone’s safety.
Wang Pangzi: WTF GIVE HIM BACK HIS FUCKIN PHONE ZHANG RISHAN I KNOW ITS YOU YOU PRETENTIOUS ANTIQUE
WE DESTROYED THIS PLACE BEFORE AND WE CAN DO IT AGAIN
Zhang Qiling: Your concerns for everyone’s safety are noted. Thank you for whatever you believe you’ve done right here.
Now. If you release us immediately and return Wu Xie to us, we will consider leaving without direct personal retribution.
Wang Pangzi: WHAT HE SAID AND ALSO YOU SUCK
Wu Xie: I regret that this has happened, I hope to make it up to you in the future. For the purpose of today’s needs, however—I will have my men escort the two of you out if you so desire, but unfortunately Wu Xie will need to stay until we have finished examining him.
Wang Pangzi: EXAMINING??? YOU FUCKING PERV HANDS OFF HE MAY BE THE BELLE OF THE BALL BUT HIS DANCE CARD IS SPOKEN FOR
I SWEAR I DID NOT GO THROUGH TEN YEARS OF THIS STARCROSSED CLUSTERFUCK FOR YOU TO SWOOP IN AND STEAL MY FRIENDS BF
Wu Xie: There is no call for rudeness. He will not be harmed. The artifact was responding to him directly. It has not lit up like this in over 200 years, and I need to understand why it is responding, and responding to someone who is not our kin, which it has never done before. This could have implications for everyone in my family if it could protect someone at the right moment.
Wang Pangzi: OKAY BUT CONSIDERING OUR TRACK RECORD IN THIS BUILDING AND THE SITUATION AT HAND Y’ALL ARE ABOUT TO NEED PROTECTION
Wu Xie: The testing would be going better if Wu Xie wasn’t worrying himself unnecessarily over where you both are, it’s making our readings difficult.
Wang Pangzi: OH GEE SO SORRY YOUR KIDNAPPING VICTIMS ARENT THRILLED TO BE HERE TO SAMPLE YOUR CREEPY JEWELRY BOX BUT THAT SOUNDS LIKE A YOU PROBLEM
Zhang Qiling: Zhang Rishan. I appreciate that you must think of our family first in your decisions. As must I. I hope you can appreciate what that means for decisions I make.
Wang Pangzi: HEHEHE SO TRUE BESTIE
YOU PISSED OFF THE WRONG GOTH TODAY BUDDY BOY
Zhang Qiling: A compromise: we stay with him as you run your tests. That will calm him and assuage Pangzi’s concerns and prevent me from…testing the limits of your lifespan.
Wu Xie: I accept that this may temporarily impact our relations, but am hopeful that you will come to understand that sometimes I need to make certain choices for this family that are…difficult. I will come to let you—One moment. Something seems to be happening.
Babysitters Club Chat
Wang Pangzi: OH SO WE ARE GONNA JUST POLITELY SIT WITH WU XIE AS STRANGERS POKE HIM WITH NEEDLES ARE WE HUH WELL LOOK WHOS BEING A HELPFUL LITTLE LAB ASSISTANT
Zhang Qiling: I’m attempting to convince him to let us out. Of course we will not simply sit there. Some lying to gain trust is necessary here.
Wang Pangzi: UR BEIN A SHADY BITCH XIAOGE AND ITS HOT
THATS WHY YOUR TATTOO IS SO BIG ITS FULL OF SECRETS
ALWAYS KNEW YOU HAD IT IN YOU TO—WAIT WHAT WAS THAT SOUND??
At the same time…
Bonnie and Clyde Chat
Xie Yuchen: …so, this is not what I expected to find.
Hei Yangjing: yeah kiddo is a bit freaked out:/ this sucks. I mean I get that they are concerned blah blah blah necklace goes brightbright but maybe we should go find the other two
or at least find a way to let Wu Xie know we are here, that room he’s in looks like a dungeon and not in a good way
Xie Yuchen: Does it look like I’m able to do anything right now? Also, I’m fairly certain they won’t be harmed. Zhang Rishan may be callous, but he isn’t stupid.
Hei Yangjing: r u kidding
he split up Romeo and Juliet, then left Romeo with a sword—seems pretty stupid to me
Xie Yuchen: Yeah I’m not going near that. He made his bed with that choice. What can you see? These Neanderthal guards are blocking my view.
Hei Yangjing: uh so there’s like a lab table situation
Wu Xie isn’t tied up, a good sign in this context
I can’t see what those people are holding, they’re talking a lot and some asshole just grabbed Wu Xie’s arm, looks like maybe they are putting in an IV?
The necklace is—oh. Oh shit.
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