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#preferably one that was multiple chapters not a one shot
dried-tomatoes · 21 days
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tiny PSA for trolls fanfic writers who are making (or have made) the move from wattpad to AO3
referring to your fics as "books" is a dead giveaway that you came from wattpad
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doitforbangchan · 20 days
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All Bark and No Bite - 14
Surprise!! Plz enjoy this early chapter as my thanks for your patience:)
please read the note at the end!!
Masterlist /Series masterlist
Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8
ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe
Previous - Next
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Chapter Warnings: Afab/fem reader, smut, unprotected p in v, threesome (mxfxm), kissing, grinding, fingering, spanking, oral (m & f receiving), subspace, public(?) sex, Dom!Chan, Sub!reader, SoftDom! Hyunjin, kinda Switch!Felix?, unbalanced power dynamic, biting/claiming, blood, cursing, pet names, crying, begging, fluff, angst
WC: 10.6 k
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It was a surprise to you that Seungmin wasn’t in bed with you when you woke up, given how absurdly late you both stayed up last night. In fact he must have gotten up quite earlier than you, given his spot in bed was now cold. He was known to be an early riser but you had assumed he would sleep in at least once. 
You rolled over groggily, barely able to make out the block lettering on the alarm clock beside the bed that read a glaring ‘11:56 am’. 
Holy shit how did you sleep-in that late? 
You shot out of bed in a hurry and clamored out of the room. You didn’t see anybody in the hall as you crept into the bathroom. After doing your business you were washing your hands when you took in your appearance. You attempted to flatten down your bed head after you splashed some water on your face. You were still in Seungmin's shirt, the garment falling to mid thigh and covering the panties you wore underneath.
You still didn’t see anyone when you went down the stairs, though you could hear humming coming from somewhere. Everyone must be partaking in a lazy sunday. You rounded a corner from the hall into the laundry room, and in your hurry ran into something. More like someone. 
“Well good morning, puppy. Or should I say good afternoon.” Seungmin snickered when you ran into him. 
“What are you doing?” You quizzed, steadying yourself by putting your hands on his shoulders. 
“Nothing to worry your little puppy head with.” He tutted, you peaked your head up to look past him into the room and saw there were multiple piles of cleaned, and folded laundry. 
“Minnie! How long have you been up? And why didn’t you wake me?” You demanded, stomping your foot. 
He shrugged, his head leaning back and forth, “A couple hours maybe. And why would I wake you up? You needed your rest after I blew your back out yesterday.” 
You laid a smack to his shoulder, “Don’t say it like that! You’re a heathen!” He only laughed, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer to him. “Don’t laugh at me!” 
“Aww but you’re so funny. Yapping at me like this. Lemme handle it, just this once.” His other hand squished your cheeks together making you purse your lips. He gave you teasing kisses all over your face and to your lips. 
“Minnie!” You attempted to protest through your uncontainable giggling, only half trying to push him off. 
He hummed, “That’s right, say my name.” He gave you one more frisky smooch then released you. “Though, I think I preferred when you were screaming it when you were falling apart on my dick.” 
You felt your face heat up and were unable to meet his eyes, so you looked down with a pout. “You shouldn’t say such things aloud.” 
“Hmpf, why? It’s true. No sense in denying a fact, pup.” He pulled the collar of his shirt away, showing you the red imprints left by your teeth from the previous night. “ And from how deep this bite is, I’d say you liked it too.” He wore a proud smirk when you tentatively brought your fingers up to the wound you made on his otherwise perfect flesh. The beta let out a purr when you subconsciously leaned closer, and pressed your lips tenderly to the marred bite.
“I did like it,” you whispered when you pulled away. “What I don’t like is when one of my boys doesn’t let me do my part.” 
“From my perspective you’ve done your part plenty.” he had a smirk
“You know what I mean. I need to help around the house, I need to take care of you boys. It’s literally in my nature. Please, Minnie?” You fluttered your lashes, trying to appeal to his sweet side. 
He thought for a second then sighed, “Fine puppy. You win. You wanna help?” he asked as he backed up into the room. You nodded enthusiastically. “Then you can take this load up for me.” He hands you a basket full of neatly folded clothes. 
You took it from his hands, “To your room?” 
“Nuh uh.” He shook his head. “To Minhos.” 
Seungmin swore he could see your heart literally sink. 
“If it’s too much for you, I can take it to him..” He reached to take the basket back from you but you moved out of his reach. 
“No, I can do it. It’s not a big deal.” You attempted to shrug in nonchalance, though you had a feeling he could see right through you. You gave him a shaky smile when he looked like he wanted to interfere. “It’s ok Minnie. Really. I’ll take it up there now.” You turned on your heel with a quickness. 
He murmured something that you didn’t catch as you left the room, laundry in hand. A quiet be careful on his lips. 
Your feet felt heavy as you trudged up the steps to Minhos room. Neither of you had spoken to each other since the fight you got into the day before. Coming up to his door you felt incredibly nervous, unsure if you should knock or just open it. You didn’t know if he was even in there or if he would be receptive to you if he was. 
“Don’t be such a little bitch, Y/n.” You muttered, steeling your anxiety the best you could, and raising your fist slowly before giving timid knocks to the wood. 
You held your breath as you listened for any sign of life, and it hitched when you heard a quiet “Come in.” 
Fuck, he is in there. 
You held the basket with one arm as you slowly opened the door, a quiet creek was the only thing breaking through the silence. Minho was laying on his bed, leaning against his headboard with a laptop on his lap. He lightly straightened up at seeing it was you who requested entry into his space.  His cat-like eyes narrowed at you, then to the basket you held tightly in your arms. 
“I uh- I have your clothes.” You stuttered lamely. 
Minho gestured to his closet with his head, never taking his eyes off of you. “You can set it by the closet.” You nodded in understanding but didn’t reply. Initially the goal was to move in and out as quickly and efficiently as possible, but now that you're here in his space you found yourself taking timid apprehensive steps. Your body felt ridgid as he watched you. You would later blame it on the overwhelming tannin rich musk that permeated all around you for making you dizzy. 
You were bent over setting down the basket by his wardrobe with shaky hands when he spoke again. 
“Cute panties.”
You shot back up briskly and pulled your shirt down to cover you further. Somehow you had completely forgotten you didn’t have any pants on. You went to spin on your heels to hightail it out of there but you were met with his imposing figure standing directly behind you. You didn’t even sense his movement until suddenly he was right there. You put your hand on your heart in shock, a quiet gasp barely escaping.
“Why’re you so on edge?” His tone was mildly inquisitive, albeit a bit bored sounding. 
You chose to ignore his question, instead asking your own “What are you doing?” You tried to keep your voice firm and you almost did if not for the small quiver in your tone. He didn’t respond, choosing to offer you a shrug before he abruptly grabbed your body and spun you back around. “Minho!” 
The beta lifted his hand up to the collar of the shirt you’re wearing and yanked it down to expose your shoulder, his eyes zeroing in on the newest addition. He traced over the healing wound, feeling its ridges and divots. “This one is pretty deep. Seung has some sharp ass teeth.” He pressed lightly into the skin making you whine. “Careful omega, get enough of these and you may just make me jealous.”  
Minho removed his hands and straightened your shirt out, then he spun you back around. “And why would you be jealous, Minho? You wanna take a bite outta me?” 
He snorted as if amused by your taunt, “ Keep up your attitude and biting won’t be the only thing I do to you.” 
You tilted your face up to try and glare at him, “You can’t scare me.” 
“You wanna bet?” 
There was an involuntary shiver when he repeated the menacing words he had said to you yesterday, causing him to smirk as if he had won some sort of silent battle. 
“Thank you for bringing my clothes up. I think it’s time you scamper back to your rabbit hole like a good little bunny now, hm?” He patted your head and gestured his hand to the door you had previously come through. Everything about his tone was so condescending. 
You just scoffed and stomped to his door, yanking it open and slamming it behind you. His laugh at your rage made you want to scream. You turned back towards his door, sticking your tongue out and flipping it off silently. 
“What are you doin, baby?” 
“AHH” You shrieked, quickly turning around to find Hyunjin behind you, now laughing his ass off. In fact he was laughing so hard he leaned against the wall clutching his stomach as he wheezed. His eyes crinkled and a tear threatened to fall. “Hyunjin!!” 
“I’m- sorry- baby.” He said between his laughter, attempting to contain himself. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 
“Yeah well…” You felt your face heat up as you avoided looking at him. 
“Oh baby, I’m sorry, come er.” He started to feel bad about scaring you, even if it was an accident. He pushed off the wall and gathered you into his embrace. “Lemme make it better.” He nuzzled his face into your neck, his long hair getting in your face and tickling your nose. Then he slathered you in his wet smooches. 
You giggled in his arms, attempting escape. “Ok ok I forgive you Jinnie.” 
He stopped kissing you but didn’t let you go yet, “I was looking for you. Get ready, we’re going on a date.” 
Your eyes widened and shined at the prospect, “A date?” Your voice was filled with excitement. 
“Uh huh, a proper date for my girl. Wear one of those cute sundresses you have.” He kissed your lips tenderly then he let you go. “You have thirty minutes to get ready, starting….. Now!” He smacked your butt to send you into action. 
You wasted no time, sprinting to your room to change your clothes. On the way you passed Chan who was exiting his office. “Woah where are you going, speed racer?” 
“Gotta get ready!” You called as you continued on your path. You heard him start to follow you as you went into your room and trifled through your closet.
“Get ready for what, my love?” He leaned against the door jam as he watched in amusement as you fluttered around the room. 
“Jinnie is gonna take me on a date!” You had a huge grin on your face as you compared dresses. “He said to wear one of my dresses but I have no idea what one would fit the vibe.” 
“Hmmm, I say go with the white one. Makes your eyes sparkle.” He came up to sit on your bed as you held the blue one up to yourself, “Yeah that one suits you.” 
“Mm, yeah you’re right it is very pretty.” You agreed, then began stripping your current pjs off. 
Chans eyes met your bare chest and he let out a low groan, “ gotta warn a man before you go throwing your clothes off, makes me not wanna let you go with Hyunjin and keep you here all to myself.” 
You giggled at him, “You’re cute.” You pulled your panties down and quickly pulled up a new pair. You squealed when his arms shot out and grabbed you, hauling you on top of him so you were straddling him. “Channie, I gotta get ready!” 
“Hmpf, you’re breaking my heart here baby.” He threw his head back dramatically as if you had actually wounded him. “But I guess I could let you go for a while.” He acted like he was toying with the idea, his head moving side to side. “If tonight I get you all to myself, hm?” 
“Promise, you can have me allllll to yourself, alpha.” You stuck your pinky out and he took it with his own, sealing your promise. “Now I seriously have to get ready, Hyunjin only gave me thirty minutes.” 
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“You’re six minutes late, baby.” Hyunjin was pouting when you met him outside after getting ready. 
“I had like no time! What do you expect from me, I’m just a girl.” You threw your hands up comically, causing him to chuckle at your antics. It was only then you noticed the large basket and blanket he held in his arms. “Are we going on a picnic?!” 
He laughed once again at your excitement. “Yeah, I thought we could take advantage of the beautiful weather.” He tucked the blanket under his arm so he could hold his hand out for you to take, which you did with no hesitation. “I know a spot not too far from the house.” 
Hyunjin led you into the woods away from the house. As you got further and further away you came upon a clearing. More like a meadow, with pops of color exploding in a wild arrange of flowers that clustered the ground. It looked untouched by man, beautiful and vibrant. Like a secret hideaway. 
“Oh Jinnie, it’s beautiful.” You put your hand to your heart as you admired the meadow. The way the tall grass swayed in the breeze, and the way the birds chirped excitedly was very mesmerizing. 
“Yeah, it really is.” You were too busy staring at the beauty in front of you to notice Hyunjin was staring directly at you. He cleared his throat after a second, and nodded towards the field. “Lets set up around here?” 
“Perfect!” You grinned, taking the blanket from him and you spread it out on the ground. It wasn’t a traditional red and white checkered one you would see in the movies; instead it was green and the print had little yellow bumble bees on it. “This is a really cute blanket, Jin.” 
He blushed, setting down the basket on top of the corner before plopping himself down. “Thanks, it’s uh- it’s my go too when I come out here. It’s good for inspiration.” 
“Inspiration hmm?” You inquired, sitting down beside him. 
“Mhmm, for when I’m painting. This is kinda my go to spot.” He reached into the pack he brought and pulled out two small canvases along with some brushes. “I actually kinda thought we could maybe paint together? If you want to.” 
“I would love to paint with you! Though I’ll warn you, mine won’t look even a fraction as good as what you’ll make.” 
“Baby, don’t you know? Perfection can only make perfection.” You swooned when he leaned in to kiss you, cupping the side of your face in his big hand. You practically melted into him when he let out a purr of satisfaction. All too soon he pulled away, “ And you, my angel, are the definition of flawless.” 
“You can’t say things like that.” You looked down, flustered by his sentiment. There was a distinct fluttering in the pit of your stomach. 
“Why not, baby? Don’t you like it?” He was smirking, pulling paints out of the basket next then a covered platter of strawberries.  
“I’m anything but perfect Hyunjin.” 
“Why would you say that, y/n?” His smile dropped when he saw how serious your statement was. You looked away, trying not to meet his eyes. “Baby, hey, you can talk to me.”  
You sniffled, finally meeting his gaze with a teary expression. “You all keep singing my praises, but I feel like all I’ve caused is drama and pain.” He looked like he was about to interject but you continued, “ Drama with my heat, drama with Minho, drama with Seungmin and… Felix. I know he’s hurting, Jinnie. I can feel it. A perfect person wouldn’t have let any of that happen.” 
“Oh baby.” He pulled you into his arms, tucking you into his chest. “First of all, the situation with your heat was not your fault. It’s those fucking suppressants fault. Second, Min can be a dick sometimes, it’s a complex he has for not being born an alpha.” He began to pet your head. “ Thirdly, Brynn had it coming, she was a bitch and needed to be brought down to earth. And as far as Felix goes, this whole arrangement made by Chan won’t last forever. His power trip will end soon enough, it always does.” 
“I try not to let it get to me, but it’s all piling up inside. There is so much guilt I don’t know what to do with it.” You wiped your eyes of the falling tears. 
“I have a feeling that nothing I say is going to be necessarily helpful, but I hope you listen when I say you really are perfect, especially for our family.” Hyunjin pressed more kisses to your head. “If you have feelings you don’t know what to do with, why not try painting it out baby?” 
You nodded against him, “ Is that what you do, Hyun?” 
“Mmhmm, I find it really helps me get out what I can’t verbally express sometimes.” 
You went to remove yourself from his lap and sat across from him, and he began to set up the painting supplies. “I’m not particularly good at art, so you have to promise not to laugh.” 
“Baby you know if anyone was going to laugh at you it’s not me.” He chuckled and pat your knee. “And it’s ok if you’re not good, it’s all about expressing yourself.” 
He handed you a canvas and you selected your brush, settling the canvas on your knees. You looked around for inspiration. There were a ton of different flowers you could choose from out here in the meadow. You wanted to make something cute, something meaningful. 
“Ready, baby?” 
You nodded with a smile, dipping your brush in the paint and beginning your masterpiece. 
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So maybe it wasn’t quite a ‘masterpiece’ but you did your best! It was legible and honestly, that was enough for you. Hyunjin had finished his long before you had, and had opted to admire you while you concentrated. He secretly snapped little photos of you with your eyebrows creased and your tongue poking out just slightly as you worked. It was now his new homescreen on his phone. 
You placed the finishing touches on the art and held it up victoriously. “Done!” You only then noticed him lounging peacefully, done with his own. “Damn I didn’t know you were waiting on me, I’m sorry Jin.” 
“Not a problem, love. I enjoyed watching my girl.” He sat back up, “ You’re cute when you concentrate on something.” 
You looked down shyly, then back at him to see him grinning at how adorable he thought you were. “Just show me what you made.” You mumbled, changing the subject. 
He laughed, “You got it, baby.” He grabbed his now almost dry painting, turning it around for you to see it. He had done a beautiful rendition of the meadow you sat in. It was literally picture perfect. It could have been a carbon copy. 
“Wow Jinnie, that is incredible!” You leaned closer to look at the details. “How did you accomplish this much in such a short amount of time?!” You were bewildered. 
He shrugged, “Eh I come out here a lot. Now show me what you made!” 
“Remember, you promised not to laugh.” You pointed an accusatory finger at him, and he dramatically crossed his heart. “Ok, here it is.” You turned your canvas around to reveal what you had created. 
It was a picture of a Bee, sitting in a bright purple flower. You had attempted to make a tulip but it came out looking more like a generic flower and the bee looked more like a yellow and black blob. 
“Aww baby! It’s so cute!!” He gushed, eyes roaming the picture. “It’s a bee in a flower right?” 
“Yeah,” You beamed, happy he knew what it was. “ I wanted to make something fitting for our time out here.” You gestured down to his bee blanket you both sat upon. 
“You are too precious, love. I’m gonna hang this up in the living room for all to see!” He reached for your art but you pulled away with a giggle. 
“It’s not that good Hyune, not nearly as good as yours. That's the one we should be hanging up, not this silly thing.” 
“The only silly thing is your attitude. I know a masterpiece when I see one and this gem is top notch.” It was cute how he tried to hype you up. “Now give it here.” 
He lunged for you suddenly, and since you weren’t expecting the ambush it caused you to drop your freshly painted canvas… face side down onto your white dress. You gasped when it fell from your hands onto the front of your dress. “Ahh no!” 
“Shit! Baby, I'm sorry!” In his panic he dragged the painting down the front of you when he tried to move himself away, the bright colors smearing across the dress. “Fuck I’m making it worse!” 
You looked down at the damage, seeing an array of shaded mixing onto the fabric. 
“Hyunjin….” You were too calm for his comfort. He was expecting you to cry. “This is the first time I’ve gotten to wear this dress…” He missed the slow creep of your hand and the way it dipped into the blue paint that was still out.
“I know! First thing when we get back home I’ll scrub it out!” He grabbed a napkin and furiously began to wipe at the stain, deepening it instead. 
“Actually, I have a better idea of how you can make it up to me.” You had an evil tone in your voice that made him look up at your face, just as you brought your hand up to smear the blue paint across his cheek. 
He gasped and pulled away briskly, his eyes wide in shock at your actions. 
You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you at his shocked expression. “Now we’re even. You look good in blue, Jinnie.” 
“So that’s the game we’re playing, huh baby?” 
“What?” You asked but were cut off when he flung the still dirty paintbrush at you, yellow paint getting on your arm. “Hyunjin!” 
“Don’t dish it if you can't take it!” His laugh was cut off when you grabbed the bottle of red and squirted him with it, the color getting all over his shirt. He retaliated by wiping his hands through the mess on his shirt and lunging for you again, red hands wiping all over your sides. 
You attempted to dive out of the way with a squeal, but only ended up laying on the other colors causing them to spill and cover yourself in them. Your hands lathered themselves in the offending paints and you rubbed them on as much of Hyunjin as you could reach. 
The whole time both of you were laughing and shrieking as you were both getting covered in the substance. Somehow you got under him completely, and he caged you in. Your thighs were spread and he laid between them. His hair was dripping in purple paint, the color falling into your own hair. You could only imagine how insane you both looked. 
“You are a little menace, aren't you?” Hyunjin was catching his breath from laughing so hard. 
“You started it!” You protested, swiping his nose again. 
He looked down between your bodies, “And now I’m gonna finish it. Looks like we only have one spot left to paint on you, doll.” He giggled and leaned down, capturing your lips with his own. You immediately threw your hands up to his shoulders, pulling him in closer. He let some of his weight fall on you gently, and rolled his hips into your core. 
You whimpered against his mouth, and the sound spurred him on to do it again. Hyunjin's body rolled into you a little harsher, relishing in the sounds of enthusiasm that left you in return. You could feel his bulge growing in his pants as he teased it against your clothed core. “Jinnie. Want you.” 
He nibbled on your bottom lip for a second, then licked the skin. “Oh yeah, Baby? You missed your Jinnie?” 
“Mhm. Missed the way you feel in me.” You couldn’t believe the words that came out of your mouth, the truth in them just spilling out. 
“Fuck, gorgeous. The other boys are corrupting you. Turning you all dirty. You don’t even care we’re out here in the open.” His hands moved down to grip your thighs, his hot palms parting them even further as he ground down. “Turns me on so much.” 
You were getting wetter by the second, your body reacting to him immensely. You let your hips buck into him as you searched for more friction. “Been too long without you, Jinnie.” 
“Mm I know, omega.” He cooed, his fingers sliding up the sides of your thighs and to the hem of your panties. “Been waiting for you too, my love.” He pulled them down your thighs, exposing your glistening center to the outside air. “I can’t use my fingers on you since they are covered in paint. Do you think you could take me without me stretching you out, baby?” 
You nodded rapidly. You were so wet you knew you could take him. “Yes Jinnie, I can take you. Can take all of you.” 
He groaned as he drug his own pants and underwear down, his member slapping at his stomach from the force. He then bucked his hips up, causing his dick to slide through your folds and wetting his tip. 
He went to line himself up to push in when you stopped him, “Wait!” He paused instantly, looking at you with wide eyes and his body rigid like he had done something wrong. “What about umm… protection?” 
He visibly relaxed, “Had me scared for a second baby.” He chuckled. “Did you take your birth control yesterday and today?” 
“Umm yeah, I did.” 
“Then we’re all good. I checked with Channie Hyung earlier and he said since you're on a fast acting prescription I’m allowed to defile you in every way.”  He had a smirk on his face. 
“Oh.” You gulped, clenching around nothing. 
“Though I will admit,” He began as he rubbed himself into you some more, on the precipice of pushing in. “ the idea of cumming on you instead of inside, really does something to me.” You groaned at his words. “Mm you want that, baby? Want me to mark your skin with more than just paint?” 
“Yes Jinnie. I want it so much.” 
“I’ll give it to you, sweet omega.” He rolled his hips at a perfect angle, sending his full length into you. Your back arched at the intrusion, and you pulled him flush against you. “Ngghh so tight, baby. Still so so tight around me.” You clenched at his sentiment. “Fuck, keep clenching like that and your gonna make me cum too soon.” 
Hyunjin set a slow pace as he thrust into you, one of his hands held up one of your thighs and the other was pulling down the top of your dress to expose your bare chest to him. He immediately leaned down to take a nipple into his mouth. He sucked on the bud for a minute then switched to the other one. You hadn’t worn a bra under the dress as it came with cups built in so there was no need. You were mentally high fiving yourself for making that choice.
You let out a loud moan when his dick snapped into you at the perfect angle, hitting the sweet spot within you. When he noticed he found it, he repeated that same motion over and over again. The pleasure was so good you started to shake with the impending orgasm.
Your slick was sloshing out of you with every movement, soaking the paint stained blanket underneath. “Oh my god, baby. I can feel you getting close. Can feel the way your body begs to cum. Let go, baby. Show me that beautiful sight I’ve been craving so much.” 
At his permission, the band in your core snapped. You came with a wail of his name, “Hyyyunnjiinnnnnnn oh my god.” and you dug your fingers into the fabric of the shirt he still wore. 
When he felt you clamp down on him, Hyunjin knew he was a goner. He stalled his hips for only a moment as he pulled out of you a mere second before releasing his essence onto your folds and lower stomach with a shudder. His eyes zeroed in on the bite marks on your shoulder and he lowered his mouth back to your chest where he laid his own devilish bite to your skin, right above your right breast. 
You squirmed from the sensation, his emotions flooding through the bite into you. Though you could feel him break the skin, the pain didn’t come. Hyunjin wore his heart on his sleeve and now you were definitely feeling it. “Jinnie..” He let go of your skin, his breathing hard. “Jinnie, can I bite you now too?” 
His eyes shone at your question, and the animal within him growled in response. With no hesitation he ripped down the collar of his shirt and presented himself to you. “I would never want for anything again, if you claimed me as yours, my sweet omega.” 
You leaned up and first kissed the skin where his neck and shoulder met, running along it with your tongue before you sunk your teeth into him. Hyunjin twitched and moaned when you claimed him. He could feel how much love you had inside of you and he wanted to drown in it. He considered himself lucky to even be around you, but having the girl of his dreams bite him in return? Now he was just blessed. 
You let go of him and licked the wound, stopping it from dripping. He brought himself up to hover above you now as he took in the state of you both. Both of your lips still marred in blood and bodies covered in an array of paint. 
“That was insane.” You breathed out once you stopped panting, running your hands along his back. 
“That’s how you make me feel, baby. Insane.” He pecked your lips with a gentle smile. Then he sat up and let you sit up as well. “I think we should probably get our shit together. We got a big mess to clean.” 
You looked around at the mess you created. “Yeah you’re right. This may not have been our smartest idea.” 
He shrugged, “It was fun though, yeah?” 
You giggled, “So much fun.” You kissed his lips again, then began to clean up. 
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It wasn’t until an hour later that you both finally got back to the house. You had hoped to sneak in unnoticed by the rest of the pack, but of course it could never be that easy. 
“What the hell happened to you guys?!” 
And of course it was Jisung who noticed you both, exclaiming his question loudly for all to hear. The beta was sat outside on the porch with a bowl of ice cream in his lap, spoon hanging out of his mouth. 
You cringed when you noticed him sitting there, trying to hide behind Hyunjin- whose face was burning red now. “Nothing, Ji. Pretend this never happened!” Hyunjin tried to shuffle past Jisung but was stopped at the door by Jeongin. 
“Woah what the actual fuck did you guys do?!” The young alpha popped his head out of the door, hearing Jisungs initial inquiry. 
You groaned from your place behind Hyunjin, stepping out to set a hand on your hip. “We had fun, that’s what happened.” You huffed, trying to hide your pure embarrassment. 
Both of the other boys' eyes scoured your figure, taking note of the red hand prints on your upper thighs and the bite mark peeking up from your cleavage, though it was mostly hidden. 
“Yeah, looks like you had a ton of fun, baby.” Jisung snickered, throwing his arm up to block the smack coming from Hyunjin. 
You crossed your arms and stuck your nose in the air snootily, “Hmpf, laugh all you want. I have paint in places where paint should never be, so if you’ll excuse me I need to shower.” You stomped past the laughing boys, Hyunjin coming in behind you. 
“You go on and shower up, love. I’ll take care of this mess.” 
“Are you sure, Jinnie? I really don’t mind cleaning up.” 
He shook his head, “Nah, I got it. You’re more covered than I am anyways. I’ll catch you in a while, ok?” He pecked your lips when you nodded in agreement. “Love you.” 
“Love you Jinnie.” You made your way up the stairs and to your room to get some clothes. 
“Is that my omega I hear?” Chans voice flooded your ears when he rounded the corner into your room. “There you are swee- woah baby what happened?” He paused his movements when he saw you. 
You smacked your palm to your forehead with a sigh, “That’s everyone's big question. Jinnie and I did a little painting today. And we may have gotten carried away.” You gave him a sheepish grin. 
“Uh huh, I can see that.” He approached you and grabbed your hand, spinning you around to see all the damage. “ I always knew you were a work of art, now it’s just been confirmed.” 
“Don’t be corny.” You giggled, pulling him into a kiss. “I need to shower. I can feel all this paint drying on my skin.” 
“Go hop in baby. I’ll grab you some of my clothes for you to wear.” He patted your butt to send you out of the room. 
“Yes sir!” You saluted dramatically and skipped into his room and to his bathroom. 
You missed the way he groaned at the title you called him, and the way he cupped his growing bulge through his black sweats. He couldn’t wait to play with you later. 
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You came back downstairs a while later, freshened up like the paint fight never even happened. Though, the light throb of your most recent claiming bite reminded you it was very much real. It was approaching evening, and you hadn't made breakfast so that means you could finally cook dinner for your pack. 
Entering the kitchen you start rifling through the fridge and cabinets looking for what you can make. Luckily you found everything you would need to make pasta and a homemade alfredo sauce. You got to work quickly, feeling in your element as you cooked and prepared. You cut up some chicken as well as some veggies to throw in. 
You couldn’t help but to think about what happened with Hyunjin. How he has said Channie gave him the okay to…Cum in you. How he now had permission to do the thing everyone had been so precautious of since Felix defied. You would have to clarify with your alpha later.
You were almost done with everything when you heard footsteps entering the kitchen. You could tell exactly who it was, since you were getting used to each of the boys you were catching on to how they each moved. 
“Hey babycakes.” You were right, it was Changbin who came in. He must have smelt the food and come to investigate. “What are you cookin in here, gorgeous? It smells amazing, had me drooling since I pulled up the driveway.” 
“Alfredo.” You answered, leaning back into him when he came up behind you. “It was one of my faves growing up. Where did you run off to today?” 
He kissed the top of your head and put his hands on your hips. “I hit the gym with a new friend I met the other day at the diner. Next time you should come, baby. Build some muscle in these little arms.” He pinched your arm lightly in jest. 
“I’ll think about it.” You hummed, squirming away from him. “ Maybe I’ll get swole enough to kick your ass.” You put your first up mock menacingly, shaking it at him. 
Changbin laughed and grabbed your lifted fist, curling his own fingers over it, “Careful there, slugger. These things are already registered weapons.” 
You winked, “Don’t you forget it.” You then turned back to your task. “Hey Binnie, can you please grab some plates for me so I can set the table?” 
“Absolutely baby.” He got the plates from the cabinet and took them into the dining room. “Don’t worry about setting the table, I got it.” He said when he came back to get cutlery. 
“Thank you Bin, that is very helpful.” You smiled at him, making his heart swell and the alpha within him purr. 
“Anything for my omega.” He kissed your lips and took a bowl of pasta from your grasp, taking it to the table.
“Mmmm what is goin on in here?” Jisung was the next to come in to investigate, his boba eyes taking in the meal you had prepared. 
“Just dinner, Ji. Actually it’s great you're here, can you please alert the rest of the pack that dinner is done and to come down to the table, please?” 
“Of course my sweet lover.” He had a sing-songy voice as he skipped away. 
It only took a few minutes before all the boys were gathered around the table and all serving up their food (after they all thanked you for making such a delicious meal, of course).
“So what are we thinkin, movie night?” Seungmin looked around at everyone as he suggested it. 
Chan nodded, swallowing his last bite. “Yeah a nice night in sounds great. What do you think, my love?”
“Good to me! I just wanna chill tonight, I’m a little tired.” You stood to begin clearing empty plates. 
Jeongin snorted, “Yeah I imagine you would be after your messy day with Jinnie.” He had a smirk, and laughed when you tried to pinch him as you picked up his plate. 
“Messy? What happened?” Felix was confused, clearly distraught at being kept out of the loop.
Hyunjin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “Ah Baby and I just went on a little picnic date, that's all.” 
“Are you suuuuurrrreeeee that’s all that happened Hyung?” The young alpha pressed teasingly. “Are you sure that you both didn’t come back covered in paint from head to toe, looking like you were mauled by a bear?” 
“More like a ferret.” Jisung murmured, then broke into giggles when the alpha boy high fived him. 
Hyunjin shrugged, though the blush to his cheeks gave away his lack of nonchalance. “What happens in the woods, stays in the woods. Right angel?” 
You nodded, “Right Jin.” 
“Even so, it sounds like Innie and Ji just signed themselves up for clean up duty. Ain't that right boys?” It was Chan now who said it, raising his brow and looking at the two guys expectantly. 
They both sighed and began to clean up the table, knowing it wasn’t worth arguing over. Though it didn’t stop them from mumbling how unjust and unfair it was the whole time.
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By the time the sun had completely set you all had gathered in the living room, watching ‘Harry Potter’. You were all starting with the first one and decided to watch at least one out of the series every sunday until all had been watched. 
You were cozied up with Chan on the loveseat, with him holding you securely against his chest while you sat in his lap. Jisung was curled up beside you with your legs thrown over his lap. Hyunjin and Jeongin were in front of the loveseat on the floor, leaning back up against it and giving you perfect reach to play with their hair. Minho, Seungmin and Changbin all sat on the bigger sofa together.
 That just left Felix in the recliner. Sat alone with a perfect view of you being touchy with the other pack mates. The beta tried to focus on the movie, he really did. And he almost made it all the way through- until he saw Chans hand slide up the side of your thigh to your bare hip and the shirt you wore rode up to show off a sliver of your panties. What he has missed though, was the flicker of the alphas eyes over to the younger boy as he touched you. By that point the need to touch you was eating him alive and he could no longer sit there. 
The beta felt himself sniffle subconsciously, then he stood from his place abruptly, drawing attention from everyone else at the sudden movement. “Sorry, I’m not… I gotta go.” Felix apologized and ducked his head, speeding out of the living room.  
You shifted like you were going to go after him, but settled back into submission against your alpha; as much as it pained you to do so, you knew you couldn’t help him right now. Chan was pleased with your choice, tilting your chin up to place a delicate kiss to your pouty lips as a reward for learning the lesson. 
 Everyone's positions in this room did not go unnoticed by the alpha. It seemed like everything fell perfectly into place for Chan when Felix had sat alone on the other side of the room. As he predicted, Hyunjin stood next to Felix to calm him down. Two down. 
By the end credits Jisung was falling asleep next to you, his weight leaned on you. Chan was the one to wake him with a poke. “Hannie, I think you better head off to bed. You’re drooling all over the place.” 
“Mmnm don’t wanna.” He grumbled in return. 
Chan sent a pleading look to Minho on the other couch, the beta sighing then standing and coming over to haul the boy off of you. “Alright, come on Sungie. Let's get you to bed.” Min tried to haul the younger beta up but Jisung defiantly dead weighted himself so he couldn’t be moved. “You are such a child. Bin, can you help me please?” 
The alpha came to help, grabbing Jisung up from the loveseat with ease as the younger protested sleepily. Together they took him up to bed (after Ji and Bin gave you good night kisses). 
Chan laid a couple kisses on your arm, making you giggle. He then shifted his eyes quickly to Seungmin, hoping the beta would take the hint. Luckily he did. Seungmin stood with an exasperated yawn, “Man I am beat. I’m gonna head up to bed. Jeongin, let’s go.” 
The alpha boy looked up confused, “Huh? If you’re tired, why do I have to go to bed?” 
Seungmin huffed with an eye roll, “Dude don’t make me spell it out for you. Let’s go. It’s late anyways.” He grabbed Jeongin by his shirt collar and pulled him up with him. 
“Fine, fine, hands off you ass!” 
Both boys also gave you good night kisses before they went on their way up. 
You had wanted to ask him about what Hyunjin said earlier, and now seemed like the only time. “Channie, can I ask you something?” 
“Of course, my love. What’s on your mind?”
“Well..” You twiddled with your thumbs nervously. “When I was with Jinnie earlier today, he said you had given your permission to.. Umm.. fuck this is embarrasing. Did you say it was ok to cum in me now since I’m on fast acting birth control?” 
He didn’t expect you to come right out with it, his shock making him chuckle. “Yes baby. That was my stipulation to the guys. No filling up my girl until you were on birth control. Luckily we got prescribed a good brand from the Doctor. He gave the okay so I did in return.” 
You let out the breath you were holding. “Ok ok, cool. I’m glad I asked. It was killing me not knowing for sure. I mean not that I don’t trust Jinnie, cuz I do, with my life, but sometimes I can’t help but worry and after what happened last time you can never be too sure, right?” 
“Baby, you're rambling. It’s ok, thank you for making sure. Good omega.” He petted you tenderly to calm you. 
“Should we head to bed too Channie? It is getting late.” You suggested, willfully ignorant to his schemes. 
“Nah, I’m not that tired. Wanna watch another movie?” You nodded in response, and went to move off of him now that there was more space to sit. He grabbed you and held you on him, “Where do you think you're going, baby? Didn’t we agree I would get you all to myself?” 
“Yes alpha.” You suppressed a laugh at how cute he was. “I do recall something like that.” 
“Exactly. Now you're staying right here, where you belong, hm?” He tickled your sides when you didn’t respond this time, making you laugh loudly. “C’m on omega, tell me when you belong.” 
“On.. your.. Lap.” You managed to get out between cackles, his fingers only relenting when you answered. 
“That’s right baby. Now since you were right, I’ll let you pick the next movie.” He grabbed the remote and handed it to you. 
“Can I pick anything I want?” 
“Yep, anything for you my love.” 
You grinned evilly and typed in the movie you had been itching to watch. 
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“I can’t believe you’re making me watch ‘Twilight’.” 
“You said I could pick whatever I wanted! This is what I want!” 
Chan groaned in boredom for what had to be the fifth time since starting the movie. “Is this really what girls are into? Old men who stalk them and tell them they’re his ‘personal brand of heroine’ as if that shit isn’t creepy!” 
“Channie, don’t act like what you say isn’t poetic like that too! You are just as bad!” You huffed. 
The alpha checked the time on his phone discreetly, noticing it was nearing ten pm. Perfect. “I’ve never considered myself good with words.” He tilted your head slightly and started to kiss your neck. You let out a sigh of content. “ Kinda always thought my romantic talents were laid in other ways.” You whimpered when he gave a harsh suck to your flesh. “Want me to show you, baby?” 
“Out-out here in the living room?” You stuttered when his hands started to travel back under your shirt. 
“Mmhmm.” He hummed, “It’s my house, I can have you wherever I want.” His rough hands slid up your sides and to your breasts under the shirt. He ran his thumbs across your nipples, toying with the hardened buds. Then an idea popped into his mind. “But you were set on watching this movie… So your gonna watch it.” He suddenly turned your body so you were sitting with your back against his chest, and your front facing the tv. Also facing the entry way into the room. 
You gasped when he grabbed your jaw softly and made you watch the tv. “Channie, what…” 
“Watch your movie, baby. Alphas got you.” He then tugged your shirt up and over your head, so now you sat there almost naked other than your panties. “Mm so pretty. Look at all these pretty marks on you, omega.” He sloppily kissed each one, at the same time he resumed his playing with your nipple with one hand. The other was toying with the hem of your panties. 
You let out a quiet whimper when he tugged on the bud. Trying to focus on the movie was becoming a nearly impossible task. You could vaguely register what was happening, it appeared to be the baseball scene. Then he tugged harder. You couldn’t help the light grind of your hips at the sensation. Having his hands on you made you instantly wet, the slick accumulating quickly from your core. Your body naturally reacted to him this way, he could look at you a certain way and it could get you going. (A fact you would never share with him, less you feed his ego even more)
“Can smell you, ‘mega. You're leaking such a delicious scent.”  He nosed your skin as he was totally engulfed in the aroma. It was so thick and syrupy, he was sure it was starting to drip from the walls.  At his words you ground down again, feeling his thickness under your ass. “Are you getting impatient, baby? “
“Mmhmm” You only hummed in return. 
He cooed, “ok baby, Alpha will play with his baby.” With lithe fingers he slowly pulled your panties down your hips and off your thighs, leaving you now completely naked on his lap. A string of arousal followed the fabric as they fell to the floor, Chan groaning at the sight. “Fuck love, is that all for me?” 
“Uh huh. For you Channie.” You nodded rapidly, moaning when those same fingers ran their tips along your folds. Chan used his knees to separate your legs even further, putting your center on full display. He collected the slick that was dripping out of you, and brought the digits up to slowly circle your clit. You threw your head back onto his shoulder and shut your eyes at the feeling. You both could tell you were quickly falling into subspace, letting Chan take care of you completely. 
In fact you were becoming so out of it, that you missed the sound of footsteps coming down the hall closer to the living room, and stopping before the threshold. Chan, though, did not. 
“Come on out, Lix.” 
Felix was coming back down for his nightly vitamin he takes every night at ten pm. He keeps it in the kitchen so he can also grab some water before bed. It was his daily routine. One he never missed. What he didn’t expect was to be bombarded with the thick scent he would know anywhere by now, and the enticing sounds of your little moans. He halted his movements in the hall, eyes wide and his hands suddenly twitching. He was going to turn back around and hightail it back to his room, but then Chan called to him. 
Fuck. 
Your eyes shot open as Felix slowly, and stiffly shuffled into the living room. “Lix? What-?” You went to cover yourself with your hands but Chan stopped you.
“Aww don’t be shy now, baby. It’s nothing Lixie hasn’t seen before, right Lix?” Chan continued rubbing at the bundle between your legs, now with more vigor and you couldn’t stop the moan. Felix merely nodded, his eyes shadowed in both lust and wanting. The twitching in his fingers got worse as soon as he raked his gaze over your spread pussy. “Doesn’t she look so pretty like this, all spread open and squirming?”  Chans eyes were dark and his tone had a menace to it that was hard to place, it had both you and Felix whimpering. 
“So pretty.. The prettiest girl in the universe.” Felix mumbled out, unable to take his eyes from the way your hole clenched at his words. 
“Nggh Lix…” You whined subconsciously, hips bucking into Chans hand for more friction. Chan never took his eyes off Felix as he nipped on your neck. 
“I can’t take this.” Felix’s statement came out as a pained whisper. 
“Hmm? What was that Felix?” Chan asked, acting uninterested, and inserting a finger inside now making you groan louder.
“I… I can’t take this anymore, Hyung.” Tears sprung to the betas eyes. “This is torture- worse than torture. Not being able to touch the woman I love, while everyone else gets to as much as they please, it’s so painful Chris.”
“You want your punishment to end? You want to touch this beautiful omega?” Chan used his other hand to grab the front of your throat, pulling your body even closer to his chest, not squeezing; just holding. A dangerous reminder that he was in charge.
Felix nodded lively, mouth gaping at the sight “ Yes I’ll do anything.” 
“Beg me.” 
Before Felix even registered the demand, you started wailing “Please alpha please I need him.” 
Chan laid a quick slap to your pussy, relishing in your hiss at the contact. You tried to snap your legs closed but Chan held them open as you shook. “Hush omega, you’ve begged enough. The men are talking. Go on Felix.”  His fingers resumed their thrusting into your hole. 
Felix locked eyes with Chans dark intimidating stare, and he theatrically lowered himself to his knees, clasping his hands together. 
“Chan, Alpha, I am begging you, please, please, don’t keep her from me anymore. I’ve learned not to defy you again. Please Hyung.”  Felix was hiccuping through his tears as he begged. 
“Look at him, Omega. Down on his knees begging for even a taste of you. Begging for the saccharine sweetness that pours from you, the nectar only I can provide. Should I let him? Should alpha be merciful and give him what he needs, baby? 
“Yes Alpha. Please.” you responded right away. 
“You want her? You want her pussy?” Chan asked rhetorically, chuckling when the beta nodded and cried. “Come show her how much you missed her. Your punishment is over.” 
Immediately you were swarmed by Felix, the beta wasting no time at all to latch his mouth over your dripping center, his tongue finding your clit with ease. His hands went to your thighs as he ground his face into you, wanting you as close as he can possibly get. Felix dug his fingers brutally into your skin, as if he was scared you would slip through his hands again. Chan removed his fingers from inside you and put them back onto your breasts, pinching your nipples. 
“Fuck, oh my god, Lixie.” Now it was you who was crying, putting your hands into his hair and gripping the strands tightly. He moaned into you when you grabbed his hair, causing vibrations to travel from his mouth into you. You were already so close to your high at that point, that when he suckled your clit into his mouth with a harsh suck, you absolutely lost it and the band inside of you snapped. “Ngghhhh Lixie, Channie, ohmygoooooooood ‘m cumming, mmmmggghh.” 
The tears never stopped falling from your eyes; the emotions inside of you being so intense it’s like a dam broke. This was the most emotional orgasm you’ve ever had. You were shaking and sobbing against Chan as Felix continued to eat you out, never relenting for even a second. The betas eyes were fluttering at the taste of you, becoming drunk on your slick. You were becoming overstimulated with the constant pleasure so you tried pulling up Felix's head. After a moment he lifted his face from you, gazing at you with intense lust in his blown out eyes and your slick covering his face. 
“Mm good girl, such a good omega for us, huh? Wanna keep being a good little girl for us, baby?” Chan questioned while kissing your shoulders. His voice was getting rougher by the second, as he himself was being overcome with both lust and power.
“Uh huh, wanna be good for you both.” You pet the side of Felix's face affectionately. You had missed being close enough to appreciate his darling freckles. He preened at your touch, nuzzling into your hand. 
Chan removed his hands from your chest, “Go ahead and get on the floor for me, baby. On all fours.” He helped you off his lap and to the floor to join Felix. Luckily the blankets that were laid out from the movie night were still here so you weren’t on the bare ground. You settled yourself as he requested, and he groaned from behind you. The alpha got up from his place on the love seat and onto his knees right behind you. “That’s a good girl, present yourself to your alpha.” He delivered a quick slap to one of your ass cheeks, admiring the slight jiggle of the flesh. 
You yelped at the sting, “Alpha!” 
“You can take it. I bet my spanks aren’t half as bad as Minnies, hmm?” He jeered with a snicker. He peered over at the beta, who by this point was rubbing his dick through his pj pants and biting his lip. “ I think our Lixie is feeling a little neglected, huh baby? He's waited so patiently for you.” Chan asked, leaning over to rub his sweatpants clad crotch against your ass. 
“Yeah, alpha. Wan’ make him feel good too. Wan’ him in my mouth.” You mumbled through your whines, craving to be filled one way or another. 
“Fuck,” Lix cursed, gripping himself tighter when you said that. 
Chan chuckled, “Seems like he wants that too. What do ya say, Lix? Want her mouth?” 
“Fuck, more than anything.” The beta replied hastily. 
“Alright then,” Chan pulled down his bottoms, just enough for his member to be out. The tip was red and leaking pre cum, he had clearly been horned up for a while. He rubbed the tip through your folds, wetting his length easily with the great amount of slick you’ve created. “Go ahead Lixie, give her what she wants.” 
Felix wasted no time in shoving his pjs down his thighs, finally feeling a little relief at no longer being confined. He came to stand in front of you, but before you could take him into your mouth he leaned down and gave you a devastatingly emotional kiss. He groaned low into your mouth, missing the way your lips tasted and felt. It made him start to tear up again. ��Missed you so fucking much, baby. ‘M never gonna lose you again.” He whispered against your lips. 
“Missed you too Lix- AH” Your sentiment was cut off by Chan pushing his length into you. You arched your back at the intrusion and dug your fingers into the fabric below you. The stretch of taking your alpha was immeasurable. “Shit, so big alpha.” Chan growled approvingly when you said that.  You tried to refocus on Felix the best you could, though your mind was slipping further and further away with each thrust of Chans hips. “In my mouth, pl-ease, nee’ it.” 
Felix took a small step back and positioned himself in front of your face, holding his tip a few inches from you. “Here you go, lovey. You can have it.” Your mouth fell open and you stuck your tongue out, licking the flushed tip and tasting his precum. You suckled on it for a second, then a particularly hard thrust from Chan caused you to take Felix completely into your mouth and down your throat, making you gag. The beta immediately threw his head back in pleasure, “Ffffucking christ oh shit. God, so warm and wet.” 
Tears sprung to your lash line when Felix hit the back of your throat. Little ‘mmpfs’ sounds were leaving you from the rutting into your core, that quickly turned into gurgly muffled moans when Chan found your sensitive spot inside of you. Your thighs were covered in slick and it was wetting the alphas bottoms. He was letting out deep, raspy grunts each time he bottomed out. His hands gripped harshly onto your hips to keep you in place, as Felix began thrusting gently into you. 
Felix ran his hand down your throat, feeling his length inside through your own skin. He gasped at the pressure he has created. He didn’t want to over stimulate you with double choking though, so he left it at that for now.
The beta held your cheeks with his palms as he wiped your tears, looking into your eyes with his glassy ones as if asking for permission to take you. You answered by sucking intensely on his member. That was what he needed, and he began to shakily fuck your mouth. 
“I wish you could see how magnificent you are right now, omega.” Chans voice was gruff and raspy. “So fucking perfect the way you take us. Fuck, most perfect omega in the world.” 
Perfect. 
There's that word again. That's the second time today you had been called it, but honestly, right now as you float through subspace, you would believe literally anything they told you. You were so far gone and delirious you just moaned in agreement.  
The corners of your lips were leaking drool, both areas of entry being so wet there was a loud sloshing sound that filled the entire room. The only other time you had been this soaked was on your heat. 
Chan brought his fingers around your body and found your clit again. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head when he began to circle the nub. You were already so sensitive that it only took a few swipes of his fingers before you were orgasming. Your body began to spasm in pleasure and your wails increased, the vibrations shooting straight into Felix's dick. 
“Fuck ‘m gonna cum oh FUCCKK” The beta gripped your face and held you steady while he shot hot ropes of cum down your throat. He let go of your face once his shaking stopped, pulling out of your mouth swiftly. “So good, baby. Your mouth is magical.” He went to wipe the cum and drool that was on your face but he didn’t get the chance. 
As soon as Felix pulled out of your mouth, Chan used one of his hands to push your head down into the blankets below. The change made your hips raise slightly and your back arch even more, letting the Alpha drive into you even further. “There we go, fuck sweet girl your even tighter like this, goddamn.” He was unrelenting in his powerful plunging into you. “Love you so so much, my baby, my omega.” 
“Alpha, love youuuu.” You clenched at the way he said your presentation. He always made it sound so dirty. You loved it. 
Your clenching on him was what he needed, the tightening threw him completely overboard. He growled deeply, the sound was a menacing rumble that emerged from the back of his throat. He shot thick ropes of his cum deep inside you. His knot inflated at the base and locked the two of you together. He rocked his hips a little more as he finished, the last few drops entering you. 
For a second, all of you were silent - except for the collective panting as you all came down. You could feel Felix stroke your hair softly as Chan ran his hands comfortingly up and down your spine. Your face was still buried in the blankets below you, mouth open and breathing hard. 
“Did so, so good for us Omega. Love you so much.” Chan began whispering praises as his knot started to deflate. Felix was now sitting on the ground and pulling your head up to rest in his lap. He wiped your tears and cooed about how much he loves you. 
Chan was ecstatic, the night fell into place exactly as he wanted it too. Well, for the most part… There was one thing he didn’t account for. 
That was a certain youngest Alpha who came down for a late night snack and stumbled upon the scene in the living room…. 
All three of you were so caught up in each other that no one noticed Jeongin walk in mid act. And not a single one of them could predict it accidently sending the alpha boy into an early rut..
Oops. 
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A/N: I know, I know it's a little late.... Unfortunately going forward this series will probably be updated bi weekly instead of weekly :'( i will be working a lot more in preparation for festival season! (Anyone going to edclv this year? 👀👀👀💃🏻)
Also, before anyone says it, yes i know thats not how birth control works,,,, it's a made up universe with made up rules :)
Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!
Also if any one wants to chat about the story or share predictions please send me an ask!!
Beta read by my loves @ayejaii and @jehhskz <3
©doitforbangchan
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fangirl-dot-com · 4 months
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Chapter 14 - Speed, I am Speed
WE'VE MADE IT TO THE 2024 SEASON. IT IS LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO!
When I started this fanfic, I never would have thought that people would be interested in it enough for it to get past the first few chapters. But everyone has proved me wrong! Here's to a great fictional season!
Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Much love <3
TAG LIST IS OPEN - 6 SPOTS LEFT!
Screams echoed through the paddock as whispers of your arrival seeped through the cracks of the buildings. The drivers watched with smiles as crowds of girls, boys, and adults alike flooded the entrance area to maybe catch of glimpse of you. Only a select few would be lucky enough to get a signature or for you to even take what they offered. But that didn’t damped the electric atmosphere that was quickly building. 
The moment you scanned your card and stepped through the turn-style, all hell broke loose.
Max stood next to Christian in the garage that was placed in the middle. The Ferrari garage was to the right, and McLaren sat to the left. 
“Quite popular. Isn’t she?” a stray mechanic commented as he worked on one of the RB20s. 
Christian only smirked. “She’s great for the media that’s for sure.” 
Max stepped through the entrance to wait for you. He was already in his Red Bull kit with a signature can in his grasp. He watched as you quickly signed multiple things and stopped to take few pictures. He noticed that you really only stood still for the squirming kids who really looked nervous to be next to you. 
You were hastily ushered farther into the paddock as you were a tad bit late. The outfit you had on was similar to Max. Jeans adorned your legs while a Red Bull polo was hidden behind your famous blue bomber jacket. Dark red sneakers completed the look. A winter flavored red bull sat comfortably in your hand. You had talked to Max about how the flavor was far superior than his preferred original. He would only eyeroll and then sip his own can. 
A bright smile shone on your face as the cameras clicked around you. Video cameras followed your every move. 
Lando and Charles had joined Max. They too were in their respective Ferrari and McLaren kits. The bright orange clashed with the bright red, while Max was the neutral navy between. Some cameras were pointed their way hoping to get a few shots of a not so common friendship and a decade old rivalry turned friendship. Yet, the trio’s attention was all on you. 
You had finally gotten to the garage. However, you completely missed the three and walked right in, excited to greet your mechanics, Christian, pit crew, and Mitch. The one thing the crew all liked about you was that you made sure to try to say hello and check in with how they were doing. 
You had surprised everyone with coffees or other drinks for preseason testing as a way to share your appreciation. 
As you went around the garage, you gave a quick side hug to Christian and then walked over to Mitch. Your eyes lit up at the sight of another familiar figure next to your strategist. You stood and talked to the two. 
While you stood there, completely oblivious to the three men standing outside, they of course didn’t miss anything.  
Lando stood there with open eyes. “Did she just walk right past us?” 
Max just continued to be unbothered and sipped his drink. 
Charles had a familiar knowing look in his eyes. “Who is she talking to mate?” 
The British driver scoffed and waved his hand. “Her strategist.” 
The Dutchman sighed before maneuvering the papaya man to a better angle. 
“Can you see now?” The driver in red questioned as he smirked at the now visible scene. 
“Oh.” 
The three stared as you talked to your best friend, who was now clad in a Sky Sports polo and khaki pants. You threw your head back as you laughed at something the younger Monegasque had said. Mitch also chuckled where she stood. 
Finally, your head turned and eyes made contact with steel blue ones. Your smile somehow got even bigger at the sight of the Dutchman and you other friends. You said something short to the two around you. Arthur gave you a side hug before he ducked out the side entrance, probably going to get ready for the driver’s parade. You’d hope that he was the one to interview you. 
You were now making your way to the other three drivers. Your maroon Red Bull was still in your hands. 
“Top of the afternoon to you gentlemen,” you spoke in a posh accent. Lando rolled his eyes. “Oh shut up that was a good impression. You’re just a hater.” 
“As if. You live there now, you could at least learn how to properly speak.” 
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You barely live there anyway now. You should be talking like Charles if you expect me to be able to finesse a British accent.” 
“Oh so now I have to speak in some hoity toity French accent?” 
“Excuse me?” 
“You’re excused Charles.” 
“Stay out of this Max.” 
“Ladies, ladies, you’re all pretty, but let’s save the fighting for the track,” a new voice that was attached to one Oscar Piastri sounded as he walked up to the four of you. 
“What’s up pastry?” you asked him. “And where is your better half?” Your eyes ran wild around the paddock. 
“Uh who?” 
“You know? The smell of gunpowder and the cry of eagles follow him where ever he walks?” 
Oscar sent you a deadpan look and sighed like a middle-aged dad. He turned just a bit to show the bright blue suit that belonged to the American Williams driver. He was looking at an iPad before he suddenly sensed five pairs of eyes on him. He looked up, grinned stupidly, and waved. You were glad to wave back, while the four men waved small ones. 
“He’s such an iPad kid.” 
“So are you,” Max finally. You squawked like a bird as you stared at him.
“If I’m one, so is Lando. Mr. I play Fortnite all the time.” 
Charles was done with your bickering. “Oscar did you need something?” 
The Aussie looked so done with everything, but perked up at the question. “Yes. Zach sent me to fetch Lando. We need to get ready for the parade.” 
A look of enlightenment crossed over both Lando and Charles’s faces as they said quick goodbyes before turning to go back to their own garages. That left you and Max to stand out in the open. He closed the gap between you and wrapped an arm around you. At that motion, multiple cameras clicked but the two of you didn’t care. 
“Are you ready for today?” he asked as the two of you walked into the garage where you’d be escorted to the parade. 
“Yep! I mean, you’re starting pole and I’m starting P6, so we’ll see what happens.” Your shoulders raised in a shrug.
“Kid that’s good for your first race.” 
“I know. I think I thought that I’d be higher up.” 
Max squeezed you a little tighter. “You just have to worry about overtaking George, Lewis, and Lando. Once you get them, you could be forecast for a podium.” 
You rolled your eyes. “I’d be happy with just staying in the points.” 
Christian clapped the your backs as you passed him to line up in the back for the parade. You found a small corner of the room to just sit in. Your headphones had been given to you in your garage, and classical piano music filled the speakers. You knew you probably looked so anti-social right now, but you didn’t care. You needed to find your calm before the storm hit. 
Many drivers didn’t even send you a second glance, yet one found himself on the floor next to you. The Monegasque’s cologne filled your nostrils as you put your head on his shoulder. You flashed him a thankful grin as you showed your phone screen. 
MON23 was the song that was currently flooding your headphones. Charles rolled his eyes, but the smile stayed on his face. Max was the one to come get the two of you once the signal was given that the parade was about to start. You and Max walked out together, and there was Arthur, ready with his microphone. 
He turned to the camera that was in front of you. “I am joined by Max Verstappen and Y/n L/n. Thank you for joining me, even if you didn’t have a choice.” 
Max and you let out a laugh at the comment. 
He continued. “So we saw some domination from the RB20 in the free practices with you Max snatching P1, P2, and then P3 respectively and then taking Pole Position for the first race of 2024. How is the car handling this year and do you expect the same amount of untouchable-ness as last year?” 
The Dutchman leaned into the microphone, while you stood next to him waving at the spectators. 
“Yeah, well we saw that the Ferraris and McLarens were going to be close after the preseason testing. I was glad that I was able to take pole. I know this one,” he pointed at you which made your attention shift to the conversation, “was wanting a higher position. But the car is fantastic, yet I think that it’ll be a closer year.” 
Arthur looked happy with the question as he turned to you. 
“So Y/n, we know you’re starting P6. What are you plans for that?” 
You huffed as you now talked into the microphone. “Well I plan to just fight as hard as I can. I know that Max and I have very different strategies today. But, overall we just want to bring as many points to get a jump start on the Constructors.” 
You were given a nod from some personelle signaling that it was time to wrap thing up. 
Arthur turned back to the camera. “Well thank you both for your time and best of luck!” 
The two of you were led to a car with an open top. Thankfully for this time, you and Max would be together. Funny enough, they told you to drive. Your eyes widened so much when they handed the keys to you. 
You kept turning around asking if this information was correct. Max was just sitting in the car laughing. You climbed in and turned the car on. Once the parade started, you pushed the gas pedal and the car started to move. 
The lap around the track was a nice one. Max and you made small talk while waving to the crowds who seemed to yell louder when your attention was turned to them. 
It wasn’t long before you found yourself in your race suit and helmet in your hand, going over your race strategy one more time with Mitch. 
She explained it once more. “So by turn one, you need to be up at least two places. You need to get the jump on George, Lando, and Lewis. They tend to go inside, so going wide will be your best friend even if it seems tricky. You're faster than they are. Try to get up to Max who can give you a tow if needed. And kid?” 
“Yeah?” 
“Just have fun. Points are points. You don’t need a podium to show your worth.” 
You nodded at her revelation and put your balaclava on. Arthur had somehow snuck in to do your handshake beforehand. He knew that it would calm you down just a bit. You slipped your helmet on and connected the different wires. With one foot over the car and the other following suit, you quickly adjusted your race suit before slipping down into the car. One of the mechanics put the screen on the nose for you to go over data and tyre degradation one more time. Your eyes flickered across the screen before it was taken away and your car was pushed out. 
At that time, you put your visor down. Your fingers touched where your lips would have been without your helmet and rose to the air. A second ritual you would call it – a special motion for your godfather. 
Starting Grid:
Max Verstappen 
Charles Leclerc
Lewis Hamilton 
Lando Norris 
George Russel 
Y/n L/n 
Oscar Piastri
Fernando Alonso
Carlos Sainz 
Alex Albon 
Lance Stroll 
Logan Sargeant 
 Pierre Gasly 
Yuki Tsonda 
Daniel Ricciardo 
Esteban Ocon 
Zhou Guanyu 
Kevin Magnussen
Valtteri Bottas  
Nico Hulkenberg 
They put your car on the P6 grid mark and stayed near with the tyre covers. The five guys smiled as you began to move about, nerves making it hard to stay still. Your eyes closed and a smile made its way to your lips. 
“Speed. I am speed. One winner, nineteen losers. I eat losers for breakfast.” 
“Kid, you know the radio is on right?” 
Your eyes shot open at the sound of Mitch’s voice. 
“Uh now I do.” 
Her chuckle came through the speakers in your headphones that where under all the face layers.
“At least we know the radio is working.” 
One of the men must have gotten the signal because the tire covers came off and everyone who wasn’t a driver fled the scene. Up ahead, you noticed Max start to drive off. After him was Charles, then Lewis, then Lando, then George. And now it was your turn. Using the pedals, you gently eased your car into movement. You were starting on softs. The team had let you know that you were going for a three stop strategy. Softs, hards, then finish the race on softs. Max was going for the soft, soft, and then hards. 
The team were hoping that by putting you on the softs, you’d be able to help Max with the last stint of the race. Softs were your specialty, especially used softs. So the last bit of the race should be your fastest.
Your formation lap consisted of weaving back and forth, warming the tyres up and getting them ready to grip the track. Once you were back in your spot, you were careful not to go over the line and stay in the half box. Your eyes shifted up to watch the lights. 
Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink. 
Inhale. Exhale. 
Blink. 
Your feet hit the pedals before your mind even comprehended. Your head swerved back and forth to look at your mirrors. Behind you, there was the dark green Aston Martin of Fernando Alonso and the other papaya colored McLaren of Oscar. However, the beginning of this track was a giant straight. 
With tyres still warm, you quickly got into George’s slip stream and made your move. 
For the viewers everywhere, Croft’s voice rang out. 
“And it’s lights out and away we go! 
"Max Verstappen gets the upper hand on Charles Leclerc on that initial jump but Leclerc is not giving up just yet. 
"There goes the Mercedes of Lewis Hamilton right behind Charles Leclerc as they go into the first corner of this race. Seems like Leclerc was able to keep his position.  
"Oh! And around the outside is Y/n L/n getting the jump on both George Russell and Lando Norris! An overtake on the outside is really tricky but she has made it work for her favor.  This rookie is making moves right out the bat. 
"I see we have some congestion in the back. Looks like the Haas of Kevin Magnussen has found the side of Alfa Romeo of Valtteri Bottas. 
"Let’s have a replay of that beginning shall we? We’ll start onboard with our rookie.”
The camera is on your car as the viewers can see the lights go out and your car lurches forward at the start. Your head swivels as it seems like you’re making sure not to hit the Aston or McLaren that were behind you.
But once you found George Russell’s slip stream, your head stayed straight as you exited to the left of George to go around the outside of both the Mercedes and Lando’s McLaren. As your RB20 continued forward George and Lando quickly left your camera’s view as you now had seven time world champion Lewis Hamilton in your sights. 
“And what a great overtake that was on L/n’s part. Let’s head back to see that little kiss between the Alfa and Haas.” 
You had now found yourself right behind the Mercedes. Yes, they possibly had the faster car, but you had the pace. 
And you were gaining. 
You pressed the radio button. “Gap to Hamilton?” 
Mitch was quick to respond. “Two point three-seven behind. But you’re gaining two tenths a lap. Keep it up.” 
“Thank you.” 
In the next nine laps, you were right behind him. 
“What is the gap to Leclerc after I get around Hamilton? 
“Five seconds. But we will pit before you get there. You have about five laps left before tyre degradation gets too terrible. Use three to get around him and two to widen the gap.” 
“Perfect.”
Yet, in about two laps you were right on his tail. Using DRS, you were able to get him on turns 14 and 15 as the DRS was coming to an end. 
“And it looks like Y/n L/n is about to make her move on Lewis Hamilton! She goes wide once more on turn 14 and cuts him off by going deep into turn 15, does she have it? 
"She does! What a move!” 
You fly down the straight with Lewis trying to get back ahead of you. Yet, you were quick with the defensive moves. 
“Hamilton is not giving up that spot. Will he be able to take it back at the corner of turn one? He does not gain the position back and has to be fine with fourth for now.” 
“Good job. Keep it up.” 
“I’m trying,” your voice rattled. In three laps you were called into the pits. 
“Looks like Red Bull is calling L/n into the pits for her first stop. Now drivers are losing about 15 seconds so this will put her down back to P8 right after the Ferrari of Carlos Sainz who has gained to positions since the start 14 laps ago. 
"And that is a 2.0 second pit stop. Phenomenal for Red Bull whose pit crew seemed to be bored this winter break.” 
“Good stop. Can you let the boys know?” 
“On it kid.” 
“Looks like L/n wants a message relayed to the crew. What a sweetheart she is.” 
You apparently were the first one to start the pit stop train, because either one, two, or three laps later the pits were full with cars coming in and out. Like strategy, you were now on hards. Yes, they weren’t your preference but, you needed to change the tyre type at least once during the race: it was mandatory.
You somehow were leading the Bahrain Grand Prix. For about the second half. 
Surprisingly, Max had gotten overtaken by Charles right out of the pit exit. You knew you needed to extend the gap between you and the Monegasque Driver, so that you and Max could pit at the same time. 
By the 37 lap, you were calling in your radio. 
“I need to box. Left tyre is almost dead.” 
“Got it. Max is in a good position as well so you will come in and Max will follow. Stay focused.” 
“Yes ma’am.” 
“Looks like the Red Bulls are coming in to box. And who is that as well? Charles Leclerc follows Max Verstappen inside. But there is a significant gap as L/n is already leaving the Bull area with new tyres and Verstappen is getting fixed as well. Leclerc will have to have a perfect pit stop to at least catch up to the two. 
"And that is a rather slow stop for Ferrari with a 3.2 second stop. Will this be the mistake that leads to yet another Red Bull 1-2?” 
You and Max bolted out of the pit exit once it was safe to do so and you were over the line. You were told to keep giving him the tow for a couple of laps since you were now on the softs while Max was on the hards. 
However, after a couple of laps, something seemed off. 
You pressed you radio. “It feels like the tyres are wearing down a lot more. Do we have something for that? I could make it to the end, but I might get overtaken.” 
“We’re checking. Just keep being nice on the corners. Max has been given the go ahead to overtake you. GP will tell him about your tyres and he should help you keep going.” 
“Is this the moment that the Bulls will switch? We know that they’d like to keep their champion at the front as soon as possible. Ah, there it is. Nice pass on the straight going into the fourth corner.” 
GP came on over Max’s radio. 
“Max, Y/n’s tyres are degrading faster than expected. I’ll keep you updated but she will fall out of DRS or any tow help in about five laps.” 
“Are we sure there isn’t anything else to do?” 
“Positive. You just keep going. She said that she’s going to try to fend off Leclerc who is gaining 2 tenths per lap but is 3 seconds behind Y/n with 10 more laps to go.” 
Max watched you fall out of help-range in the predicted 5 laps. He could catch glimpses of you when he slowed down on the corners but that was about it. All he focused on now was being the first one across the checkered flag. 
You were coping brilliantly. By going slower around the corners you were slowing down the tyre deg but also slowing down Charles.
“Gap to Charles and then Max please?” 
“Gap to Max is about nine seconds now. And Charles is still gaining and is now in DRS so watch out on the corners.” 
“Got it. My tyres are done for and I have no grip. Might be safer to let him pass. I don’t want to pull a George Russell 2023 Singapore.” 
“Focus.” 
Well, you didn’t thundercunt yourself into a wall, but on the first corner of the last lap, you had a lock up.
“That is a bad lockup for the Red Bull rookie and there goes Leclerc, taking advantage of the small mistake. Props to Y/n though for handling the car well and getting it back on track.”  
“Oh shit!” you exclaimed as your car went wide allowing Charles to slip by. “Sorry for the language.” 
You turned your radio off, a bit embarrassed and annoyed at yourself, not wanting to hear Mitch’s reply. 
You tried desperately to catch back up but it was no use. Your tyres were done as you crossed the finish line in third place. You quickly turned your radio back on. 
“And good job Kid with points, third place, and a podium on your first race. Congrats.” 
“Aaahhhhh thank you team! This was an experience for sure and I can’t wait for the next one! Sorry for that lock up, we’ll get them next time.” Your hand stuck out the top to wave as you drove significantly slower.  
“Wasn’t your fault kid. We’ll go over in debrief. Enjoy the celebration, you earned it.” 
Max had already parked in the first place spot as he got out of the RB20. He turned and expected to see you in the second place spot, but was a bit disappointed when he saw his childhood rival. His heart sank for a bit as he thought you might have been overtaken more than once. But his spirits rose when he saw your RB20 pull into the third place. 
He watched as you stood on the nose and lifted your arms up in celebration, put one down, and keep the other raised with a fist clenched as you brought it down sharply. He knew the cameras were eating it up. 
If his history knowledge was correct, and it usually was, you were the first woman since Lella Lombardi to score points, but were the first one to get on the podium.
You were making history.
And the people were eating it up. Your name was heard above everyone’s. He would meet you in the cool down room. 
He was escorted over to the weighing station where he stood for a few moments before going over to the cool down room. He was soon joined by Charles. The two stood like middle-aged dads who were watching their neighbors mow their lawn and silently judging them as they watched the recaps. The main one was your first overtake around the outside. 
“Dang she’s quick in that car.” 
Max nodded. “Her simulator times were a bit faster than me during testing.” 
“I don’t know how then I got around her. Seemed like she was just falling behind the last five laps.” 
“My tyres were degrading too quickly and were basically done by the time I crossed the finish line.” You walked into the room, sweat glistening on your forehead where your hair also stuck. Although you hadn’t gotten your second place, third place was still impressive. A smile was probably permanently stuck on your face now. 
Max held his arms open for a hug and you dove right in. His hands rubbed up and down your back. Your gaze was now turned to the TV where you watched Lando and Lewis dance for multiple turns before Lewis finally took P4 on the second to last lap. 
Charles brought you into a quick hug and kissed your forehead. You wanted to talk some more, but you had been queued to go up to the podiums. You went out first, Charles followed, and then Max. You stood still as the Dutch anthem rung, followed by the Austrian. 
And now it was your favorite part. Your grabbed your bottle and shook it, before hauling it up on your shoulder like you always did. 
The "champagne cannon" as people liked to call it. You showered the older drivers with the sticky liquid, but was quickly turned against and sprayed as well. You then walked over to the banister and sprayed the team below. 
When your bottle was finished you picked up your trophy and made your way down to celebrate with Red Bull. 
You quickly found Mitch and gave her a giant hug like you had done once you got out of your car earlier. Christian also gave you a big hug and told you how proud he was of you. 
The night for you didn’t last much longer as the adults had said that they were going out to a club to celebrate. You were a bit saddened to hear that you couldn’t come with, being on the podium and all. But, your time would come. 
And instead of celebrating, you changed out of your suit and fire proofs and got into comfier clothing. However, you couldn’t stop yawning. 
Thinking that Mitch, Christian, or Max would come get you to leave, you lied down on your small bed in your drivers room. An alarm was not set. 
Your eyes closed and you fell asleep soon after. Dreams of first place danced behind your eyelids. 
You’d get there if it was the last thing you’d do. 
skysportsf1 has posted
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skysportsf1 we are excited to introduce our main interviewer line up for the 2024 season. David Croft will still lead our main commentary, but we welcome Nico Rosberg, new-comer Arthur Leclerc, and Jensen Button to our team!
liked by formula1_fan, y/n.89, charles_leclerc, y/nxarthur, and 22,830 others
formula1_fan YEESSS so happy to see this trio! maybe we'll actually have good interviews now
y/nxarthur this is just fueling the delulu
leclercbros4life so happy to see Arthur still involved in Formula 1
change_ur_f-car I know right! I would have thought he'd given up charles-marry_ME now he can be near Charles and Y/n all the time y/n-is_my-romanempire I mean, I would have liked it to be Arthur Leclerc "Y/n L/n's Partner" but we'll get there
y/n.89 THAT'S MY BEST FRIEND RIGHT THERE! WHOO!!!!!!!!!!!
landonorris I think you missed an exclamation mark maxverstappen1 I thought I was your best friend arthur_leclerc sorry mate, but I was here first oscarpiatri he would like to be more tho *this comment was deleted* y/n.nation UH HELLO????
arthur_leclerc thank you for this amazing opportunity!
arthur-4lifers baby boy is BACK
sebastianvettel good to see you here kid! can't wait for the future
f1_fanatic this seems suspicious
RedBullRacing has posted
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redbullracing a phenomenal start to the 2024 season with an RB 1-3! See you all in Jeddah!
liked by y/n-on-top, lestappenlove, logansargeant, and 93,822 others
y/n.nation YEAH PODIUM AND POINTS FOR OUR ROOKIE
box_box_offical I totally see her breaking Hamilton's rookie year in points - place your bets here ladies and gents
charles_leclerc glad to share a podium with Max and Y/n, but tell them to watch out next race
y/n.89 yeah, we'll be watching you...in our mirrors as you eat our dust maxverstappen1 what she said
emotional_support_rivals loved the lestappen moment, y/n is their kid at this point
y/n.89 whose last name would I take? maxverstappen1 mine charles_leclerc mine y/n.89 you're both wrong, I'm taking Geri's :) arthur_leclerc hyphenate?
maxiel-lover that start, middle, and finish were just the best
y/n's_version I will have a new Roman Empire every weekend at this point
y/n.89 has posted
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y/n.89 race one of freshman year in the books! first woman since lella to gain some points and first woman to stand on any step on the podium. next stop - the number one spot
liked by martagarcialopez19, liakblock, kellypiquet, and 73,209 others
martagarcialopez19 my hero and role model everyone!
liakblock mine too! y/n.89 gonna cry :(
iamred_iamyellow literally number 1 driver, max get out of the way
redbullracing ROOKIE! ROOKIE! ROOKIE!
y/n.89 ADMIN! ADMIN! ADMIN!
arthur_leclerc favorite girl *liked by y/n.89*
landonorris I'll get you next time
y/n.89 surreeee
hE_tUrned_inTo_mE this was one of the best opening races ever, that double overtake around the outside was amazing
y/n_updates this race is going in the history books
Race Stats:
Max Verstappen 
Charles Leclerc  +3.583
Y/n L/n  +1.264
Lewis Hamilton  +2.840
Lando Norris + fastest lap +1.264  
Carlos Sainz +1.830
George Russell +2.375
Oscar Piastri +4.284
Alex Albon +3.001
Fernando Alonso +2.904
Logan Sargeant +1.992
Lance Stroll +5.932
Pierre Gasly +6.200
Daniel Ricciardo +1.209
Yuki Tsunoda +2.092
Esteban Ocon +3.871
Zhou Guanyu +6.997
Nico Hulkenberg +8.287
Valtteri Bottas – DNF 
Kevin Magnussen – DNF 
Driver's Championship Standings:
Max Verstappen – 25 points
Charles Leclerc – 18 points 
Y/n L/n – 15 points 
Lewis Hamilton – 12 points 
Lando Norris – 11 points 
Carlos Sainz – 8 points 
George Russell – 6 points 
Oscar Piastri – 4 points 
Alex Albon – 2 points 
Fernando Alonso – 1 point 
Logan Sargeant – 0 points 
Lance Stroll – 0 points  
Pierre Gasly – 0 points   
Daniel Ricciardo – 0 points   
Yuki Tsunoda – 0 points  
Esteban Ocon – 0 points   
Zhou Guanyu – 0 points   
Nico Hulkenberg – 0 points   
Valtteri Bottas – 0 points   
Kevin Magnussen – 0 points  
Constructor’s Championship Standings 
Red Bull – 40 points 
Ferrari – 26 points 
Mercedes – 18 points 
McLaren – 16 points 
Williams – 2 points 
Aston Martin – 1 point 
Racing Bulls – 0 points 
Alpha Romeo – 0 points 
Haas – 0 points 
Alpine – 0 points  
If you want a continuation, read this chapter of Besties for the Resties!
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allsassnoclass · 2 years
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korodere · 1 year
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ill have peace when people realize that theres barely any romantic implications beyond waifubait with hajime & chiaki in sdr2 (hajime is even like “what is up with this girl” multiple times because she cant hold convo, love her) meanwhile there’s immediately romantic implications between hajime & nagito
hajime and chiaki’s relationship is not inherently romantic beyond it being a boy and a girl who care about each other, and people thinking that needs to be romantic. it makes more sense as an important friendship. because chiaki is important to and cares about ALL of her classmates in the same way.
but ultimately chiaki COULDN’T save hajime. not in dr3. it’s true that a vision of her manages to talk hajime out of his despair in chapter 6. but the REAL chiaki could NOT save him from himself, because she has a fundamental mismatch and doesn’t truly understand his feelings on worthlessness and lack of talent. she has a talent, she even says to him that it’s “harder” to be talented than not, and she’d prefer it. that’s completely ignoring his feelings on the matter.
while it can be argued that dr3 shows more romantic implications between them, it’s also where she’s least compatible and helpful for him. she can’t understand why he’s so upset about talent, so she can’t talk him out of his mindset and prevent him from doing the project. even if she doesn’t know that’s what her words are doing, she still fails.
i won’t say komaeda would talk him out of it, because i don’t think many people could. hajime hates himself deeply enough to become another person, it’s hard to talk anyone out of that mindset. but komaeda understands hajime in a way no one else does - because everyone else in sdr2 is talented, and doesn’t really ride or die for the whole “talented vs untalented” dichotomy, but they don’t not participate in it. 
komaeda isn’t really talented on the other hand, and he even wishes he wasn’t, and treats himself like he isn’t. because he believes he doesn’t deserve the title. just like hinata, he believes strongly in the worth of ultimates and the worthlessness in comparison of those beneath them - like himself and hinata.
komaeda’s worldview is nearly the exact same as hinata’s, just pushed a bit further and a bit more twisted. hinata’s worldview isn’t any more healthy than komaeda’s, either - a healthy worldview doesn’t lead to you lobotomizing yourself. they understand each other in a way no one else in sdr2 can because they both have this inferiority/superiority complex about talent.
that’s why the narrative revolves around them so much. their stories begin and end with each other.
chiaki is important to hajime, yes, but not in any romantic sense. they’re friends. and that’s fine. a male and a female character don’t have to be romantic to be deeply important to each other. danganronpa is not above putting an m/f ship as endgame, this is obvious with naegiri, and if that was ever the intention with hajime and chiaki they would’ve. but instead we see a literal scene where hajime leaves his memory of chiaki behind and moves on from her, as he needs to, as they all need to, carrying her memory with him but not living in the past, and as he leaves her he joins nagito instead.
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and this is the FINAL shot of them. to end the series.  i think it’s pretty clear what they intended with this.
essentially, nagito and hajime complete each other. they are soulmates. end of ramble
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makeitmingi · 6 months
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Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 56]
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Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst
Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)
Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities
Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.
Word count: 3.2K
Time skip: 8 months...
"Indigo!" Yoojin catches you in the hallway as you were heading to your studio. You stopped and turned around to face her as you blinked in confusion. Seeing you, Yoojin burst out laughing, resting her hands on her knees.
"Why are you balancing 3 coffee cups?! Here, let me help you." She giggled, taking one coffee cup in each hand.
"I left my mug in the studio and the cups at the cafe are too small. I didn't want to make multiple trips to I ordered 3 at one go." You explained to her.
"You're so amusing, Indigo." She continued to laugh. You rolled your eyes and walked to your studio with her in tow.
"I'm guessing you yelling out my name didn't have anything to do with my coffee cups?" You raised an eyebrow at her as you walked.
"Oh yeah! Ateez is coming later today and we wanted you to show them around since you've worked with them before." She informed you. You cleared your throat.
"I didn't even know they were in town." You lied. You knew Ateez was in America, you got messages from Jongho and Seonghwa about it. They even sent you concert tickets with backstage passes.
"Are they working with HYBE?"
"They're coming to work with some content creators." She shrugged, following you into the studio. She set the coffee cups down on the desk while you poured all the contents into your regular big coffee tumbler. After spending six months with you, Yoojin was a lot more open and comfortable around you.
"The production team got some tickets for their concert tomorrow. You should go support them!" She said.
"I'm not sure... With my schedule and all..." You told her.
"You're always busy, Indigo. You need to let loose a little and live!" She slapped your shoulder. You rolled your eyes yet again and sipped your coffee, moving to your desk.
"So we're entrusting them to you later, okay? You're the new superstar of HYBE!"
"It might not be a good idea, Yoojin." You sighed. She tilted her head in confusion, not understanding what you meant.
"Think about it. I left KQ to join HYBE. I was their producer before I came here for a bigger, better opprtunity. You get where I'm going with this?" You explained. It took her a while before she nodded her head slowly, her mouth forming an 'o' shape.
"But you're still friends right? It'll be fine. They would understand why you did what you did." She assured. Honestly, you knew that they did understand, that's why you didn't want to face them.
"I don't know..."
"See how you feel! They'll be coming at 3 and will be in the shooting studios after." She said.
"Why don't you just do it, Yoojin? You're the relations person, you're better at this stuff than me. Plus, I have a meeting later and I don't want to rush." You persuaded.
"Fine. Only because you have a meeting." She shot you a glare before patting your head and leaving your studio to let you get back to work.
You were contemplating going for the concert since you knew Haneul would want to see them, you've been thinking about it since the tickets were mailed to you. You would set aside your feelings for her, since you unfairly took her out of Korea and made her move with you to a new country, away from them.
'We're going to HYBE later to use the filming space. Just letting you know if you don't want to run into us. Are you working at the office today? - Seonghwa'
'I am. My colleague just told me. I have a meeting so I probably won't run into you guys. But thanks for the heads up. - Indigo'
You have only recently established contact with Seonghwa again. Luckily, he played it cool and just spoke to you regularly, not even bringing up the rest of the members in your conversations.
"Ah, whatever." You weren't going to harp on it for now. You needed to get ready for your meeting.
Seonghwa sat in the car, chewing on his thumbnail in worry. HYBE America was big, the chances of you running into each other was slim right?
"Seonghwa hyung? Are you okay?" San blinked in confusion, seeing the oldest act nervous.
"Yeah. My vocal warm up didn't go too well this morning so I'm worried my voice cracks." He lied. Jongho handed the oldest his bottle of lemon water for his throat. The relationship between Ateez was still in recovery. More like, they had to set aside their feelings to continue to work together harmoniously. Within the 8 months, the company also moved them to live in separate dorms.
Needless to say, his relationship with Hongjoong was still a work in progress. But Hongjoong was mature, he knew he needed Seonghwa and as the two oldest, they needed to make up somehow.
"We're here." The managers stopped in the carpark and the boys got off. They walked in together.
"Hello Ateez. Welcome to HYBE America. I'm Yoojin, it's nice to meet you all." Yoojin bowed as she greeted the 8 boys at the door.
"We look forward to working together. Thank you for taking care of us." Ateez bowed to her. She chuckled, having missed the Korean hospitality while in America.
"Follow me. I'll take you guys to the filming area." Yoojin waved for them to follow her into the building.
"Sorry, do you guys have a place we can get some coffee?" Wooyoung asked. Yoojin nodded and brought them to the cafe on the first floor. The boys entered the cafe space to buy some coffee. As they were patiently waiting for their turn in the queue, the person at the counter was on the phone.
"Mmm, I'm buying coffee... Well, I wouldn't be late if you had come down to pick me... I forgot my pass at the hotel, okay? I'll buy you a coffee." The male chuckled.
"That kind of looks like EL CAPITXN." Yunho leaned down and whispered to Hongjoong.
"It is... I guess it's not surprising to see him here since he's in Big Hit." Hongjoong shrugged, turning back to the menu board.
"Iced Americano for me, hyung. I need to use the bathroom." Mingi ordered. With Yoojin's directions, Mingi went to use the bathroom since the drive here was so long, he couldn't wait anymore.
"This building is seriously so big." Mingi said in awe as he exited the bathroom and walked back to the cafe where the others were waiting for him.
"There she is." Mingi heard EL CAPITXN cheer and greet someone.
"You're too loud, Yijeong." Mingi's eyes widened at the familiar voice. It made his heart stop as he whipped his head around. He watched the producer sling his arm around someone, who jabbed his side to let him go, but Mingi could only see the backs of their heads.
"I flew all the way here to see you AND I bought you coffee, you could be nicer to me." The male complained.
"You should buy me coffee since you're late. Come on, we're wasting time." The person with him snatched the coffee and walked with him to the lifts.
"I told you I left my employee pass in the hotel. And the security won't give me another one." Mingi watched the person took EL CAPITXN or Yijeong through the secure gate.
"Mingi? We were waiting for you." Hongjoong frowned when he saw the taller just standing there, staring into space.
"What's wrong?" The captain asked.
"I... Nothing, I think I just need coffee to wake myself up." Mingi shook his head. Yunho handed Mingi his iced americano and he took a sip.
"Alright, let's go." Yoojin smiled and led them to the filming space. Mingi knew he needed to focus, his mind was playing tricks on him or he was too sleep deprived from the jetlag that he thought he heard you. There was a slim chance since he knew you were in America but was that really you with Yijeong?
"Okay, so this will be the filming space that you're using." Yoojin said to them, walking into the big space.
"Thank you." They bowed gratefully to her. She bowed back and waved to them before leaving. Hongjoong gestured for them to stand in a row.
"8 makes 1 team! Nice to meet you." They all greeted the film staff and the MC in the room. Hongjoong and San did most of the talking since they were fluent in English.
"This is the brief for the filming and how to programme will go. Feel free to ask any questions." The assistant director handed them notes.
"Thank you." They took a few minutes to flip through the pages. Thankfully, they were printed in Korean.
"If you're ready, we can start." The manager told them. With their game faces on, they put the notes aside and walked onto the set, getting into the seats to begin filming.
Yijeong was in America to work with some artists here at song camp and with you. Despite the two of you chatting online and meeting occasionally over the past 8 months when he popped over to America, you've never actually physically worked together before.
"The jetlag is a killer." He said as he leaned back in the couch. You snorted and drank the coffee he bought you.
"Are you here to sleep or work with me?" You asked.
"Geez, you're so fierce." He groaned. In a way, you've grown to become good friends with him. He was chaotic and playful but someone you got along with well.
"When they told me they were planning for a trap piece, I knew I was doomed." You complained.
"That's why you have to gain more experience by accepting more trap pieces. Don't worry, I'll help you out." He came to sit with you.
"Also, I saw Ateez downstairs. Did you know they were coming or that they were here?" He asked as he set up his laptop next to your keyboard on the desk.
"I knew. Yoojin told me earlier." You hummed.
"No ill feelings?" He side eyed you. You shrugged, showing your indifference. While you were both friends and have gotten closer, you still wouldn't tell him about your time with Ateez or anyone for that matter. That was between you and the Ateez boys only, and you would like to keep it that way.
As expected, your time with Yijeong was very productive. He was a good teacher and you picked up on things quickly, even if the style of music wasn't something you were used to.
"I have to go or I'll be late again." Yijeong said as he packed up.
"I'll walk you down and get another coffee." You told him and stretched your arms over your head.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear the last part about coffee and only acknowledge that you said you'll walk me down." He winked, making you roll your eyes.
"You've got your Uber?" You asked, peeking over to look at his phone. He nodded, showing you the map.
"So, when are you coming back to work with the team in Korea?" Yijeong teased, putting his arm around your shoulder.
"I already told you I don't know. I have projects here too." You crossed your arms and tried to shrug him off. He chuckled, lightly knocking his head against yours playfully.
"I promise to take very good care of you when you come back. The kiddo too." Yijeong smirked. You've learnt or realised that this was just how Yijeong was, he would playfully flirt with you this way. But he was harmless.
"You're annoying, you know that?" You clicked your tongue as you stepped out of the lift.
"But you still love me." He cooed, trying to pinch your cheek but you slapped his hand away, adjusting the mask.
"Can you just leave already?" You pushed him away. He shook his head and glued himself to your side even more, knowing it would rile you up.
"Next time you come, don't forget your employee pass. I'm not going to come pick you up anymore. I'd rather let you stay down here and suffer." You scolded. He held his head in feign hurt.
"I don't know if anyone has ever told you but you're a terrible friend, Indigo ah." He ruffled your hair.
"I told you not to do that." You slapped his arm.
"Okay! Okay! Just stop hitting me." He shielded his face. When he saw that his Uber was pulling up, Yijeong hugged you goodbye. With a sigh, you did wrap your arms around him to reciprocate the hug. You predicted it but he did squish you, even lifting you off your feet. He put his hand on your head.
"Be good, Indigo." He cooed, the playful glint in his eyes as he lightly shook your head.
"Bye." You shoved him towards the car. But even as he got in and the car was driving away, you stood there and waved to him. Letting out a tired sigh, you turned around to walk back.
But when you looked up, you froze, seeing 8 pairs of eyes stare back at you. The noise of your surroundings faded into nothingness and all you could hear was the pounding of your heart in your ears.
It was deafening.
How were you supposed to react? What were you supposed to say? Do you acknowledge them? You couldn't breathe.
"Indigo." Hongjoong spoke first. Your eyes immediately moved down, you didn't want to meet any of their eyes, you didn't want to risk meeting Mingi's eyes.
Every defence you've built up in the past 8 months started to crumble down. You felt so small and you wanted to run away from them, to cower and cry in a corner like a coward.
"Indigo! There you are!" Yoojin appeared, calling to you. You took a deep breath to collect yourself, wiping away any tears that may have fallen with the end of your hoodie sleeves. The mask was able to hide any other emotion you showed.
"Looks like you've already had your reunion. Did you say hi?" She asked as she looked between you and Ateez. You nodded stiffly.
"How was your meeting with Yijeong?" She tilted her head.
"It was good. I'm gonna go, I need to pick Haneul." You told her softly. She blinked, a little puzzled by your demeanour but nodded. You awkwardly bowed to Ateez and ran off.
"Oh, gosh." The moment you entered your studio, you slid down against the door, ripping the mask away.
You leaned your forehead against the heels of your palms as you tried to catch your breath, all this between the choked sobs that bubbled up your throat.
How were you going to bring Haneul to their concert if you couldn't even look at them for a few seconds without breaking down?
It should be fine, now that they know the truth behind you leaving. There shouldn't be ill feelings. But why were you frozen? Why did panic and anxiety fill you when you saw them? You thought you would be better prepared for the conversation that you were bound to have with them.
After all, you couldn't run forever. But all your head told you to do was to run away. You weren't afraid of them, you were afraid of reconnecting with them. Because what happens next?
You've worked hard to settle down here, to build a routine for yourself and Haneul in this new life.
Even if you did reconcile with them, you knew things would never be the same. You weren't ready to go back to that life yet.
Your plan was to stay here for 2 years at least before going back to Korea, to be able to let go of everything and leave what happened in the past, as a part of your memories.
Your wounds were still fresh. You knew, all Mingi had to do was ask and you would pack up to move back to Korea with him.
You were that weak, that vulnerable, you missed him too much. Your heart felt empty, your bed felt cold, your life felt incomplete. Because you knew deep down, Mingi was your home.
-
Meanwhile, Mingi couldn't believe it. So he wasn't hallucinating earlier, it was really you. Even if you didn't look directly at him, the way you stared at them in shock made his chest tightened. Just hearing your voice made his heart swoon again. For that short moment, he tried to take you in.
You've definitely lost weight. You looked a lot more tired but you hid it behind a gentle demeanour when you spoke to Yoojin. Your hair was now kept at shoulder length with wisps of purple carding through.
"Ah, that's Indigo. Always busy running around. Anyway, thank you for coming. We'll see you at the concert tomorrow." Yoojin smiled.
"Of course. Thank you and we hope you and the team enjoy the concert tomorrow." Hongjoong replied and reached out to shake her hand.
"If you'll excuse me." Yoojin bowed and walked away first to attend to other business matters.
"Mingi." Yunho shook his best friend.
"T-That was her, right? I haven't actually lost it." Mingi let out a bitter chuckle. Yunho nodded his head in confirmation.
But his heart lurched at the look at you gave them. You looked at them like they were monsters, people that you should be afraid of, people you want to run from. Mingi had clutched onto the side of his pants to prevent himself from going over to hug you.
He wanted to hold you, comfort you, tell you he's sorry and that he didn't mean what he said. He wanted to tell you that he still loved you. He wanted to apologise for not protecting you like he should.
"Let's go collect ourselves somewhere else." Hongjoong said knowing he couldn't let himself get affected in public as the leader of Ateez.
"Yeah." Seonghwa nodded in agreement. The two oldest moved everyone down to the vans.
The ride back to the hotel was pin-drop silence. Everyone was still processing what happened and what they saw. They all gathered in Hongjoong's room, away from their managers.
"So Indigo is in HYBE now." San spoke first.
"She looked so scared of us..." Wooyoung said sadly. Mingi nodded in agreement, his head hanging low. He didn't know what to say. What was he supposed to say?
"Seonghwa hyung and I invited her and Haneul to our show tomorrow, we sent her tickets. But she hasn't told us if she would be coming or not." Jongho said first, in case the others got upset that they didn't tell them about knowing you worked at HYBE. Seonghwa nodded in confirmation.
"Let's not push her to come. But if she does, let's prepare ourselves to talk to her." Hongjoong said.
"What are we supposed to say, hyung?" Yeosang asked.
"I don't know, Yeosang. I'm barely figuring this out myself. She belongs at KQ with us." Hongjoong groaned in frustration, scratching his head.
"I agree." San replied. The others nodded, all except Yunho. He didn't know if he was supposed to want you to come back, not when he saw what Mingi went through after you left.
"Okay, we shouldn't get ahead of ourselves. Our aim is to talk things out tomorrow." Seonghwa said.
~
Series Masterlist
95 notes · View notes
afreakingdork · 3 months
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Weak Spot - Chapter 56
RotTMNT Donatello x Reader
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It's all about perspective in this week's chapter art by @garbagemilkshake
Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay
Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?
Also available on Ao3
First 💜 Previous
Donnie was brooding. About what, you weren’t sure, but he was lost in thought. The kind that pinched up his face, he appeared compliant if you asked, but was clearly dodgy if you tried to figure out why. Asking for additional time with each question on his well being, it made you feel a sort of hopelessness. He was clearly feeling guilty about something out of his control. He did his best to make it up to you where he could, but there was something vexing him deeply.
For the time of year, you acknowledged the two special occasions coming up. One for hearts and the other of sentimentality, it wasn’t like Donnie to think so openly. You doubted he’d sulk over planning anything as important as your anniversary, which meant something else was bothering him.
It had gone on for nearly a week and not once had you gotten used to it. Instead, it was like an ever present weight in your heart each time you saw him thinking over his cause. You found him more often as of late, when you got home from work, still listlessly sitting at his desk. He’d been obviously ruminating and the way his monitors had timed out said how long he’d been at it. You played the dutiful partner and only pressed for hugging reassurances that you would always be there, whenever he was ready.
That day just so happened to be today.
“I… need to go to the Hidden City.”
He’d spoken suddenly after making you both warm drinks and offering one to you.
You had been reaching out to take yours and felt your hands hang there. “Is that…?”
“My status remains ‘wanted’.”
“Do… you need to go back into hiding?”
The cup offered in his hand lowered. “No.”
“I’m guessing the others haven’t broken their promise since you haven’t gone to maim them.”
“The rat’s word still stands.”
“Is something wrong?” You hesitated on the topic you were bordering on.
“I didn’t mean to make you guess.” He renewed his effort to give you your drink.
This time you got proper hold of it. “I’m not going to force you.”
“I’m…” He held out with distress painting him until he exhaled a modicum of it away. “I’m going to withdraw my holdings there.”
Your eyes shot wide. “Wait…”
“I know.” He gestured that he would sit.
You scooted backward into your spot on the couch so he could take his.
“I’ve been… debating. Pros and cons. Gut reactions. Integrated decision maps. I’ve run analysis. I’ve dusted off age-old algorithms. I’ve-!” He caught on more and sank down to stare into his mug. “Recently, you’ve allowed me to dabble further in my old habits and it has… summoned… interesting feelings.”
You folded yourself up close to translate you’d listen for as long as need be and sipped the liquid. Something new, you glanced down at it and found it in line with your tastes.
“I… enjoy my work, but I wonder if I prefer it because it is familiar or if it actually brings me joy.”
“You seemed like you were having fun watching Hypno and Warren destroy the place.”
He smiled a little and took the tiniest sip. “True, but… they made up.”
You nodded, letting the drink warm your body. “You were hoping otherwise.”
“I saw their qualms as advantageous. With Warren out of the way, I could extract more product from Hypno, but… to what end? Why? Why… do I… do this? Why…?”
You waited with curling fingers around hot ceramic.
“My holdings here make more than enough money. I live comfortably. I have what I need. My freedom, my… you. That comment Warren made…”
He’d made many; you took a sip.
“Is that our future?”
“No.” You broke in. “Warren’s an idiot and a jerk.”
He looked right through you. “Are you doomed to be my accomplice? Will you allow me to break and pillage and ruin while looking the other way because you care?”
“Donnie…”
“And the aftermath!” Something about the way he looked at his mug made you think he might pour it over his head. “To keep you separate is to keep you at bay. Allowing you close endangers you. I cannot undo what I’ve done. That is my life!”
You set your mug aside and crossed the space to hold his forearm.
The liquid in his cup vibrated outward.
“Hey.”
This time he saw you. “I don’t want that for you. For us. For our kids.” He gasped on the admittance and choked looking away. “I like it. I do. I enjoy it. I know it. I’m good at it, but-!”
You took his drink and set it aside.
“Do I do all those things because it’s all I know? Like that fucking worm… Like… a wheel. I’m trapped on a wheel and I was supposed to live. How long have I been stuck-!?” He wheezed.
You rose to your knees and wrapped your arms around his neck.
He held you and sank against your form. “I’ve been trying to parse it out, but I no longer know what’s real.”
You squeezed harder and he reached up to claw into your shirt.
“I’m scared.” He admitted with a heave and you felt the droplets seep into your clothes.
You held tight.
He’d never once admitted that.
Even after you’d been kidnapped, he never used those words.
He pulled you into his lap and buried himself down into the safety of you with only the plip plop of his running tears as a signal he was still present.
You refused to let go.
“I can only think to try.” His voice became shredded, warped and raw. “Start with the smallest, most superfluous holding in my portfolio and shut it. Tend the power vacuum and see how I feel. Will I experience loss? Will I care? Will I even notice?”
You stroked his carapace.
“I need to find out. I need to be sure before I do anything else. Before my declaration. Before I marry you. Before we move even a single step further forward. For me, for you.”
“You first.” Your own voice had a broken quality.
“Me first.” He agreed.
“I-” He teetered.
You found his chin and lifted him to eye level. “Not until you’re sure.”
He smiled through a shallow weep and touched the tip of his beak to your nose.
-
Compared to any other version of Donnie’s planning stages, this was something else entirely. He was under his own microscope and you could tell every move was one carefully scrutinized. It left him operating slowly and deliberately. He was hyper aware of each action and reaction to the point where you were sure something was penning down his existence with millisecond timestamps. He existed only as a written caricature, something without freewill that was only allowed to work within a script.
It was hard to watch.
A journey of self-discovery, he had to go about it alone.
You didn’t even know how to help even if you were allowed.
He was in a liminal space where the not knowing shredded him further. He held himself in such high regard and you had seen, first hand, what unknowns did to him. A whole spectrum of reactions, he’d gone the distance and yet still resided at a mysterious point. You were the sure thing in his life while everything else he’d known fell apart. You knew your part was played, something of a shepherd leading a weary traveler. You’d met while he was already on his journey, following a trail toward a life that was truly his own and he’d appeared on your field. There you had walked beside him to your boundary line and this marked the point where he would have to continue his quest alone.
You never left the fence.
You stared after his form no matter how tiny it got on the horizon.
The fact his path deviated was a far greater choice than any he’d ever been presented with. It was one, in fact, that he had thought was fully removed from him. Damned from an early age, he saw one trajectory of his life possible until that road lost pavement and turned to rubble. Soles cut and rotted flesh from neglect, he’d meant to die of his malady, but carrying on had widened his course.
Only he never looked up.
He stared down at the slog of his feet. 
You’d been there when his lids had first cracked and the full sight of his existence was one wider than he could comprehend.
He tried to force it, but it blinded him.
He couldn’t have it all.
A crossroads represented not only his choice in the matter, but that there was a greater existence possible for him.
The layered options overwhelmed him and their potency stripped him of his sense of self.
A vessel repaired, he stumbled forward not knowing which direction would be one that got him to his goals.
He’d wanted peace to work.
He acquired it.
He’d opened himself to love.
It was his.
He sought pleasure, big and small.
They were within his grasp, often and always.
What was left?
He didn’t so much lay out his business structure as he pinpointed what needed to be done. A dark that was meant to keep you safe, he gave you an itinerary. He would leave for the Hidden City on Monday and had projected a week to take care of letting this one business go. It meant laying low and moving under guise so as not to alert the authorities or competitors of his existence there. Somewhere he was wholly unallowed, he still had significant reach in that no one threatened his work even when he couldn’t be present.
That speaking largely to what he’d wanted and achieved, you had a certain awe for your mate.
He was an unstoppable force and though you knew he wasn’t unbreakable, it helped your faith in that he would make it through this.
He’d reach the other side.
He’d get his answer.
He’d return to your field, take your hand, and carry on with you in tow.
Until then, he would approach his business partners and contacts for this particular field and walk them through new procedures. Not expressively telling them he was removing himself, they would instead be under a child-like guise. One where you tell one parent the other said this and the other guardian the opposite, both parties would think responsibility was covered and they’d be none the wiser until they spoke.
Donnie estimated that they wouldn’t realize for at least a month and by that time the new system would be a stabilized one where they would simply accept he wouldn’t need them.
Their big mouths were the only thing left to chance. In the underworld, information reigned as the most important asset. Without that there was nothing to gain. You made no money without knowing its source. You held no power without holding something coveted. You were nothing to fear if you had no back up. The best case scenario were these contacts grew slovenly in their new positions and didn’t pipe up to ruin a good thing when the tyrant Donatello handed you gold on a silver platter.
It was the easiest of the sins while the others dictated the worst roads that could be taken.
Pride and bragging of having supposedly pulled one over.
Gluttony in thinking they could grab more.
Wrath that they were tricked.
Envy of one another and a vie to take full control.
Lust to use their growth as one alluring to conscript more onto their sides.
Greed in selling his weakness out.
Time would tell and Donnie was going to also strengthen certain protective holdings, as he called them, so as the filth would stay in the rotten city he despised.
You believed in him because he believed in you.
One week.
Seven days.
Technically 8 because he was due to arrive back first thing Monday morning.
You turned to your own plans.
You already knew you would need to keep busy. With Donnie out and wearing himself down both in a place that wanted his extermination along with all the danger the job itself entailed, you were ready to be a wreck. Communication wasn’t off the table this time, but it was a dodgy thing. He himself had been the one to wire the Hidden City for surface communication, but only so many Yokai cared to adapt. Usually only the ones that crossed the barrier wanted it, so connection points were relatively scarce and more often than not he wouldn't have service.
He promised you he would try to at least check-in once a day.
That would come in a variety of forms depending on his state, but even that wouldn’t be a guarantee or alarm.
You had to trust him to come back to you.
You did.
He didn’t pack and he bid you farewell clad in one of his convertible villain pieces. Dark layers that concealed both a litany of weapons and armor, there was little to hug that was actually him. You settled for what you could which ended up being slung high around his head and he had kissed you in stages.
Desperation.
Longing.
Love.
The last lingered with promise which he trailed to your ear to whisper not reassurances, but his affections. Everything save the titular confession, you held him in to press foreheads and noses before releasing him. He committed you to memory, brought his scarf up to hide himself, thought enough to lower it so you could see his parting smile, and left.
You were alone.
You had work.
You had also gotten ready for it too soon.
It meant you had little to do and ended up at first pacing the apartment. Looking for even the tiniest spot to maybe put something neglected away, you found little. Your deep cleaning had been done not too long ago. The most you found was one errant piece of mail that only needed to be moved from the kitchen counter to a sorting bin on Donnie’s desk and you were left with nothing more to do. You decided to text Shelly. When you had made your plans with him for tonight, you’d realized all too quickly that you’d only ever reached out to him via your tech gauntlet. You’d felt infuriated having had to ask Donnie for his number, but when you texted to automaton the revelation, he only chuckled and said it hadn’t occurred to him either. 
You: You up?
Shelly: File that under the ways to start a booty call
You: Why do you choose violence at all hours?
Shelly: I take after my papa
You:  Alright, I see how it is
Shelly: ☹️
You: Just checking in about tonight
Shelly: Ah dad just left I see
You: Please!
Shelly: You only ever text me when you’re lonely 😭
You: I do not! Since I got your number I’ve been sending you all kinds of stuff
Shelly: …
You: ?
Shelly: I GUESS!
You: Gotcha
Shelly: But yeah we’re still good. Want me to sleep over?
You paused and stared down at your phone.
You: That’s sad
You: Sleepover with your mom just cause dad’s on vacation?
You: Makes me sound like some elderly person who’s been with their spouse for like 30 years and is going to die of heartbreak
Shelly: Cause he died and left you all alone with the farm house!
You: Hey!
You: NO
You: SHELLY
Shelly: FUCK
Shelly: I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT
Shelly: WAIT STOP GO BACK
You: YOU GO BACK WTF
You: YOU SAID IT!
The next message you got was a video of S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. making a rectangle with his hands before one of the mechanical arms of his came into frame and sliced the box in half.
You: what was that?
Shelly: It wards off bad luck!
You: It better!
Shelly: Sleepover to make up for it? 😀
You: Spoiled brat
A digital sticker appeared of S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. snickering and it distracted you all the way to work as you found out he had an entire set of emotes based on himself. Working in tandem with shotty service on public transit, you got the pack uploaded to your phone.
Work took over next. There was a busy enough load of things to do and they were just interesting enough to be distracting. Your ex-roommate Coral checked in around lunch under the guise of making fun of you and you ended up talking to her on speaker perched somewhere outside while you ate. It was a bit too cold for it, but the conversation kept you warm.
The afternoon tumbled away and eventually you were on your way home. Shooting a message to S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. that you were inbound, you found a shadow figure exuding way too much energy standing right outside your apartment.
“Someone’s going to call the cops on you.” You folded your arms behind him.
S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. turned with a bright glowing smile. “They already did! Mrs. Kaczmarek!”
“Of course it’d be her…” You wilted before something buoyed you concurrently. “You didn’t talk to her did you!?”
“Nah.” He pointed up the building. “She was staring at me through the blinds so I waved.”
You caught his arm through the sleeve of his big jacket. “She cannot see you go into my apartment!”
“Why?” He tilted his head with genuine curiosity.
“She thinks me and Donnie are living in sin! I don’t know what she’ll do with the whole kid thing!”
He snorted. “I’m gonna introduce myself.”
“No! Didn’t you hear me!?” You meant to tug him, but he scooped you up like the bag he had under his other arm.
Hanging your limbs in indignity, you glowered at him as he merrily skipped up the steps with loud percussive metal thumps. “Let’s spin it! Donnie is a single father widower!”
“I can walk!”
“This is more fun!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. sang as he ascended the steps two at a time. “Okay anyway, so he had me way too young and it was all a mix up and omigosh what if you guys were high school sweethearts and you had a tryst, but then my fake mom passed me off as yours and also you were conscripted into the mafia and then it’s enemies to lovers!”
“What have you been watching?!” He set you down when you reached your apartment’s floor.
“Telenovelas. Wait, why?” He paused to think.
You yanked the bag out of his hand in a fit of retaliation but immediately wilted under his weight. “Holy shit!”
“Ah!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. shouted more for sympathy and caught both you and the bag.
“What is this!?” You stared up at him.
“My pajamas.” He checked you over.
“Pajamas?” You unfolded the top and screeched as S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s lifeless head appeared as the contents.
A metal hand clamped over your mouth. “Okay, I’m gonna own that it’s been pretty funny keeping your heart rate up, but the bag thing wasn’t meant to be part of the joke!”
You hummed ‘what do you mean?’ as loud as you could against his paw.
“It’s just my drone body. I was going to switch to it so I can fit in bed with you. I’m pretty sure I exceed the weight limit like three times over in this body.” He let go slowly. “Pajamas? Get it?”
You pinched his hat and yanked him down to eye level. “Punishment! No scary movies!”
“Mom!!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. whined loud and long.
“Mom?” Mrs. Kaczmarek’s distinct voice came from down the hall.
“Fuck.” Your eyes widened and you didn’t have to look to know she was headed your way.
“Language!” Mrs. Kaczmarek huffed and you heard her shuffling footsteps.
“Mafia?” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s brows wiggled digitally.
You glared mania right into his eyes. “Big brother program and you’re weird. That’s final.”
S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. clucked happily as the old woman cornered you.
-
After S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. had dragged you out early for breakfast the next day, you bid him farewell on your way to work. He had a multi-day tournament that would be keeping him busy the next few days and Coral was next on your docket. Another working grind smoothed out the edges of your sanity and you ended up meeting her for an impromptu dinner. On her dime, you were relentlessly teased for being codependent which then rolled over into how badly you’d fail at long distance. You did your best to defend yourself, but when you got a ping from Donnie, the speed at which you’d scrambled to your phone only confirmed all her points.
You didn’t even care to defend yourself as the single purple heart in your message chain was one that sent your spirits sky high.
It inadvertently ruined her fun in the process and you were invited back to her place for drinks.
Now onto more genial conversation, you’d entered your old apartment to find your nervous friend Nelson, bent over the oven with the frilliest apron you had ever seen covering his torso.
He lifted up with a tray of cookies and, as you both roasted him, he defended himself saying form didn’t matter as much as utility.
Still cackling, the conversation shifted to a light hearted one as Nelson continued to bake for a donation sale.
Instead of stumbling home, you crashed in Coral’s bed and she kicked you out bright and early as if she hadn’t been there as your rock for the last 12 hours.
Doing a walk of shame that felt particularly comical since it no longer cracked the top ten of your worsts since meeting Donnie, you felt the first bout of truly missing your boyfriend. Something about walking the streets alone and knowing he wasn’t there or home waiting for you stung. Your shower at your apartment was a sullen one and the trip to work moved at an achingly slow pace.
You: Hey
You: Not sure when you’ll get this
You: Looks like the messages are going through though so that’s good
You: I did not want to relive those stupid red errors
You: I just wanted to say I miss you
You: Hang in there and best of luck ❤️
Staring long at the message chain even when no read receipt came, you pocketed your device as you went to work. A clock in and clock out sort of day, you’d had lunch with your gossipy coworker who you felt like you hadn’t seen in ages. He was the same as always and had many dishes to serve up. Trying to focus on consuming what he offered, who’d been kicked from the #random slack sat in your head like an ear worm until the end of the day where tonight marked the resurrection of game night. One where you only knew your chill friend Kaleb, as the host, and his board game obsessed friend, D-Kline, the rest of the attendants were new to you and you hoped keeping up with the crowd would offer a better distraction.
The night had been one of hotly debated conspiracy theories which went well with the game where you had to oust the player who was a secret villain.
The imagery was thankfully one that only nipped at your heels.
Home came especially dark when you clicked on the light and the lived in feel of the space was one that felt synthetic.
Another sleep would fast track you to Thursday which led to Friday. Both days you’d been unable to fill, you’d be on your own and, for that fact alone, you didn’t want to go to bed. You ended up staying up until the wee hours of the morning scrolling and feeling worse for it mentally and physically. It made the next day an absolute slog and a part of you enjoyed the suffering.
It was hard to think about being lonely when your head was pounding relentlessly.
Getting home came with crashing on the couch and waking sometime late. A devastating blow to your sleep schedule, you ate something microwaved for dinner. Consuming it standing in a dark kitchen, you checked your phone as almost an afterthought to find yesterday and today’s messages from Donnie.
Donnie 💜: As busy as I am, I also have time on my hands. It gives me the space necessary to consider what I must. Though manufactured for such purpose, I care little for it. Introspection is not something I’ve ever had the luxury to entertain and going about it alone has been trying.
Donnie 💜: I want to know I am doing this for the right reasons and I can’t help but think of you when I attempt to consider what those are.
Donnie 💜: I miss our bed.
Donnie 💜: I miss your scent.
Donnie 💜: Your smile.
Donnie 💜: My chest aches.
Donnie 💜: I should have taken more photographs.
And.
Donnie 💜: You have not responded and I hope that is because you are busy.
Donnie 💜: Take care of yourself.
You stared long at his messages until you felt weepy.
Squeezing your lids shut in an attempt to turn off the main for waterworks, you typed out a lengthy explanation of all the things you had been doing to keep busy. Veritable walls of text, you hoped that would give him some distracting material so he wouldn’t have to suffer completely alone with his thoughts.
You knew that curse all too well.
You punctuated the whole thing off with something short and liminal.
You: I’ll dream of you tonight, meet me there
You lowered your phone and felt exhausted at the prospect of having to prepare for bed when a little vibration in your hand caught your attention.
Donnie 💜: I will try as hard as I can.
With your phone crushed to your chest you drowned in your love for him.
Washing up, changing, and getting into bed, you lay in the middle with your body turned toward his side. There you conjured a ghost of him, the one you knew long and well. You willed him to your subconscious. Transferring residuals of his essence that must have been left behind, you focused all your thought on bringing his memory with you to the dreaming world.
You woke after a night of empty sleep.
It stung.
With little will, you prepared for the day which felt like sand falling through your fingers. All too fine for you to hold, it trickled between meetings and calls. Through the cracks of your mailbox and debris in the bottom of your water bottle, you refilled it only to disrupt the silt. It manifested tiny pebbles in your shoe that no amount of shaking could rid. It made seats in public transit craggy ones and as you entered your apartment you dropped to the floor with dramatics at the thought of having to repeat that process.
You fell asleep on the couch with a movie blaring all night.
The next morning, Friday, you barely made it through your routine and had started to berate yourself for your theatrics. The voice grew louder as you exited the apartment and you saw, but didn’t respond to a few messages from friends. Donnie’s daily message had been lost to yesterday’s sieve and you soured further. Your aura read one to keep away and that only exaggerated your loneliness.
You ate alone.
You worked alone.
You went home alone.
You were done.
Done with work and done with distractions, you fell into self loathing.
Five days?
There were people who lost their loved ones for lifetimes.
They carried on.
You felt pathetic and small.
A fury misplaced, you couldn’t send it to your partner because he was trying to maneuver something monumental.
That left you the punching bag and with it came takeout.
Far too much and way too expensive, you ate pure grease and turned on trash TV. Soon yelling at those pandering, you fell asleep sitting up and buried amongst blankets and Styrofoam.
When you woke up with a start the next day, it came with wiping fingers and leaving greasy marks on your shirt.
You forewent cleanliness in an attempt to wallow.
A crawling sensation of oil coating you inside and out, your phone was your magical friend that could bring more food without you having to move much.
Counting 23 steps from your spot on the couch to the door, you lapped that on the return trip to devolution with TV and a dripping to-go boxes.
Your frame of mind shifted with your meal.
You would have this.
You would let yourself mourn that which wasn’t even gone.
Why fight it?
You were allowed to be sad your boyfriend had left.
You weren’t supposed to trust your thoughts and feelings from late at night.
Everything was a process.
When was the last time you’d become a vegetable?
The terribly named cheat days were supposed to be a thing.
They kept you even and sane.
There was nothing wrong with indulgence as long as it was done in moderation.
You put yourself on a timeline.
You could live this way through Sunday if you wanted.
Then you were going to boil everything for safety.
You’d welcome Donnie back as if you hadn’t fallen off the wagon momentarily.
You’d tell him what happened.
Maybe later.
Way later.
After you knocked him clean to the floor and hung off him like a koala for say five to six straight hours.
You’d get your fill and then open up.
Donnie 💜: Switch in progress, results tentatively promising
You felt like you weren’t present in this world when you got the message.
A ground ball that you dove for, you came up dusty from it, but satisfied you’d staved off a run.
It felt like a cosmic truth.
You were okay.
Your feelings were valid.
Things would work out.
The Indian food you’d gotten for dinner was lethally delicious.
This time the food coma you put yourself in was a willing one.
No guilt, only decadence, you were cradling a far too large slab of garlicy naan and chewing on one end like a cow with cud. Saturday evening entertainment came in the form of a television show about a burnout trying to make their way. With bigger narratives obviously edging into the plot, you binged through season one and two before you felt yourself losing lengths of dialog. The bread on your chest had gone, but its scent and weight lingered.
A confusing ghost, you fell to the side, kicking napkins and tissues away until your own blanket acted as your pillow and you were the wad of gum stuck inside. Characters kept talking, they were relentless in that way, and your lids fell with the dialog feeding ticker tape into your dreams. Coming out your ears on a steady pump, the click clack of the printer was a metronome that dictated your heartbeat.
There was the distinct click of the door.
You cracked your eyes and saw a TV logo appearing and disappearing on a screen long fallen asleep.
Blue light bathed your form and you sat up to hear something soft like the weight of a bag hitting the floor.
Slow to turn, you found a large silhouette standing in the doorway and eating up darkness like a growing mass.
Without definition and somehow not rim lit by the television, you squinted at the mannequin and how it was half bent in setting a messenger bag down.
“Wrong… apartment…?” You ventured to the apparition.
“Y/N…?” Donnie’s voice came from it.
You stared as the being stood straight.
Silence beat dehydrated percussion in your ears.
“Did you…?” You asked and were interrupted by a wave of nausea.
You felt repulsive.
What a time for him to finally show up in your dreams.
He stepped towards you and you sort of registered one of his hands raising up to his face. “Did I what? Why are you sleeping out here-?”
You blinked one at the rude manifestation of your boyfriend.
Your mind had gone for a portrayal that was a bit too accurate.
You wanted dream Donnie to whisk you away on a white horse.
“What is that smell?” He gagged and finally took on close enough clarity to highlight that he had pulled his scarf down.
You might have been mad if you weren’t trapped by his face.
Lit from below, his hollowed out eyes were cast in a worse light. Pupils thin and lifeless, they sat atop eye bags that were triple the natural ones baked into his body from years of neglect. From around his scarf, his cheeks sunk against his features and there was visible grease blotched and giving his already green complexion an even sicklier hue. “You look like shit.”
“You smell like it.” He stared down at you.
You had to squint one last time before you pulled your arm from your cocoon.
Pinching your shoulder, you winced at the jolt of pain before turning up comprehension to your partner.
He softened a little around his scrunched beak.
In what felt like exactly three moves, you unearthed yourself, climbed straight up the back of the couch, and launched yourself at him.
He caught you with open arms and you both collapsed onto the floor where you wiggled until all of you was wrapped around him.
“What are you doing here?!” You yelled into his tympanum. “It’s Saturday still, right?! Did I miss it!? Did I sleep through Monday!?”
He squeezed you hard around the center until you squawked with pain. Then he went a calculated slack before his digging digits held you close to him with no intention of letting go. “It’s technically Sunday. 1:07am when I unlocked the door. I…”
You rose up and he relented from cupping the back of your head to holding your cheek.
You kissed him.
He returned it in earnest.
“Donnie…” You cooed against his mouth and he sealed the sound back up.
Now drinking each other in, you felt him shudder as he licked into you and you could only imagine the sour taste. You hadn’t properly showered since Wednesday and your teeth had gone unbrushed for at least 24 hours. Breaking every one of his cardinal rules and only seeming to care on some subconscious level, he nipped at you to get your attention back.
You.
He wanted you.
Even in this state. 
You kissed him hard enough down into the floor that it clicked his skull against the ground. He cared little and hoisted you up further, trying to keep all of you held as you made out. Taking time and then some, you eventually broke with a gasp where lightheadedness said that you had gone way past some reasonable point and your usual sensors for self-preservation were offline if only to have more of him.
His beak twitched with repugnant scents and you rooted down to tug messily at his scarf. It loosened and revealed musky skin where sweat had been long baked in. It made you remember he’d left in the same outfit he had now returned in and you licked a fat stripe over his pulse to taste the salt and sour of neglect.
“Acting all high and mighty.” You tutted against him and began to work a hickey into the flesh despite knowing it probably wouldn’t work.
He gave his first chirp.
You immediately sank your teeth into his throat without holding back.
His knees kicked up and slammed into your ass as he gave you a honed chirp.
“Fuck!” His limbs went loose.
You removed your fangs and mouthed satisfaction.
“Me?” He grunted, shoving up your dirty pajamas to feel the skin of your back. “You were busy. You were taking care of yourself. What happened?”
“I was.” You broke from his skin with a pop and pressed a wet kiss to the underside of his chin. “Then I got lonely.” You returned to your spot and sucked as hard as you could.
He quaked beneath you. “W-wait…!”
You relented only enough to talk against his skin. “What?”
“Are you alright though?” He pet you with worry.
“Now, I am.” You gave up your mark to kiss his neck tenderly. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you.”
“You say it so easily.” You tempered your voice to speak against his head.
“There’s been a change.”
“Oh?” You lifted up to see him.
Though it pained him, he pleaded with you. “Shower. We must shower. Together. Has to be together and now.”
“Fine, but you talk while we do it.”
“That was implied.” He gave the barest smile before your whole world shifted.
Now bundled in his arms, he carried you with a bouncy step to the bathroom. He deposited you next to the sink and you watched him prepare your toothbrush. Passing yours over and then getting his, you shared coy glances in the mirror. As soon as you were done, but right before you could spit, it had clearly been too long because he dipped down and forced his minty mouth against yours.
The kiss pushed you into the wall and you made a little spindly moan.
He retreated with a dry heave and was forced to scrub his mouth out a second time before he finally rinsed.
You followed soon after and fluttered your lashes at him as you spit.
He looked away with a gag and gave a stubborn grunt.
“I gross you out.” You teased him and he went only far enough to turn the shower tap on.
“The horror…” He said without emotion and caught your waist.
“You still want me though.” You leaned in sweetly.
What you thought was a tender move was immediately subverted because he’d actually caught your shirt and yanked it straight up, muffling you.
“Hey!”
“Feel free to return the favor.” He pulled too hard which snapped your arms up.
Even you could smell your body odor.
It caused him to slow, where his pupils changed sizes and your shirt fall like an afterthought to the ground. “Odd…”
“What?” You caught one end of his scarf and pulled so it choked him.
He snorted, wheezed, and wiggled his fingers up into the threads to loosen it. “Your scent.”
“I stink. I got that much.” You were undoing buttons on his outermost layer which you had never realized was a cardigan.
“Filth should deter your natural scent, meaning it should be repulsive but…” He was clearly trying to follow some line of thought, but you got his top undone and shoved backward.
He shook with a form of whiplash and countered by rocking back to shove your bottoms off. 
Now nude, you gazed into his eyes where he’d dropped to your level.
He caught the back of your neck to save it from the force of his kiss.
A wet one, it spoke of salvia and how you’d made his mouth water.
You curled into him and despised the layers he still had on as it separated you.
He found it just as annoying because he released and together you both stripped him in a stumbling mess.
He nearly fell into the shower as you whipped the curtain back and chased his unstable form into the warm spray.
Both instantly lulling at the sensation, you pressed together to enjoy it at the same time. A fire smothering flame, it held a heated tiding that reminded you that you were together and that was the point. It shifted to tender touches, drinking in the moisture on each other’s skin as you both reached for soap. Washing each other without pretext, you would often find yourself simply leaning against him for the sake of it. He churred loud enough to beat the nozzle and, as he mapped out the lengths of your skin, he tapped his beak against nearly all points as if to leave unseen pieces of himself behind.
By the time you exited, you had found there was a limit to what had prior been an endless stream of hot water from Donnie’s systems.
You dried off in fluffy towels and Donnie looked like he’d collapse from satisfaction at the slightest provocation. Wanting only to pamper him further, you showed him his muscle cream. He went to take it, but you pulled back to indicate you wanted to apply it. It pricked his eyes with happy tears that he squeezed away and offered you his arm. Working the solution into his neglected muscles, it was with such great comfort that his churrs broke. Imagining them on some supersonic level, you moved in an overflowing silence to get his other arm, neck, and finally his carapace.
He was without bones as you finished and you had to act as his walker to get him to bed.
He looked like he might say something, but was teetering in and out of consciousness as you sat him on the edge of it.
You gave a soothing hum and got a hold of clean wraps.
This time he was completely malleable in offering his limbs.
With the best approximation of the many times you’d seen him wrap himself, you applied them one slow rounding at a time.
It brought his churrs back and by the time you secured his neck, he kissed you with sweetness. 
“Marry me.” He mumbled between brushes to your lips.
You were equally drunk on the moment, you relished the little way your lips tried to cling to each other. “What…?”
He only kissed you more, in a way that spoke of need and pulled you into the bed.
Falling to his side, he turned right into you to give chaste press after chaste press and stroked your cheek for good measure.
You spent what must have been hours like that until exhaustion kept him from reciprocating.
Laying the wrong way in bed, you pulled up the bottom sheets to cover him the best you could.
He gave that honed chirp unprovoked and you kissed him with the desperation it always conjured. “What is that, Donnie? Please…?”
“You’ve… never asked…” He told you as his hand ghosted over your form as if to absorb your energy.
“Tell me now?” You pressed the tip of your nose to his beak.
“Mating call.”
You blinked wide, looking at him up his snout.
“For my mate.” He spoke, almost cheeky and stole another kiss.
Your heartbeat a little too fast and you found yourself cuddling into him.
“Mate.” He confirmed again and this time you found him checking your pulse to feel how your heart skipped a beat.
“You asked me to marry you.” You spit without venom.
He had the audacity to chuff. “There’s no way.”
“You did. Tonight, or… uh, this morning. Not that long ago.”
“I did not.” He gave a gentle pressure to your arm to make you look up at him.
You saw a dash of fear swirled into worry and fatigue in his gaze. “You did…”
“No…” His expression grew grave.
“Donnie.”
“That can’t be. Let me take it back.” He gave a faint growl as he rolled you over to hang above your head. “I didn’t!”
“Don.” You couldn’t help but giggle.
“Don’t laugh! Before I’ve said I love you?! Do you know the amount of planning I’ve had in place!? To work up to this?! I refuse to waste it on-on-on being mildly out of sorts at most!” His eyes darted wildly and without source. “Erase it! You will forget that you ever heard-!!”
You stared up at him with a watery expression that you were trying very hard to contain.
“Did…? Did I…?” He hung, mortified, above you.
You could only nod and tried to hide your mouth.
He tipped once, then twice, before his body came down around you in a whine. “I’m a mess!”
You moved deliberately in petting his carapace.
His churrs were weak and sad.
You thought against his head for a moment before summoning your strength. He felt the tide of your body shift and turned to study you curiously. Surely only seeing your face puckered, you breathed in as deep as you could and mustered the sound only he’d been able to produce.
You gave your approximation of the mating call.
Before the sound fully left you, his lips were on yours and his tears met your cheeks to escape.
You held him tight and returned the fervor.
“You-” He broke the lip lock as if to scold. “You-you-!”
You held his head so you could send him a honeyed gaze.
He shook your frame with a deafening mating call and kissed you deeply.
Melting into one, he slowed with reluctance to pull you the right way into bed. There you snuggled down together, giving pecks where possible to soothe the need until you were wound into a singular form.
“We were silent all during the washing. It was supposed to be a given, but I haven’t given my explanation…” He lamented.
“Now or later?” You nuzzled his throat.
He gave a faint hum. “I rushed my return home.”
You pursed your lips and pulled away to view him.
“I couldn’t stand another day without you.”
“Coral says we're codependent.” You told him while stroking his plastron.
“After this showing…?” Donnie’s brow ridge lifted in what had once been his patented look.
“I think… I mean I was in a dark place for a day, but… I don’t know. I think we’re fine. We do live our lives separate, but together. So what if we don’t want to be apart long term? Isn’t that why we’re dating?”
He gave a faint smile and kissed your forehead. “Which day was dark, my heart?”
“Friday…” You tucked your leg further where it was between his.
You felt his tail curl against your skin as if to hold you. “Then four days is too many. Three will be the max from now on.”
You couldn’t help the little jolt of joy that gave you.
It must have felt similarly for him because he gave you a bubbling peck.
You hummed content and he returned it with a similar chirp.
You gave your mating call.
He returned it with his.
You shoved into him and he welcomed you close.
“How were you?” You asked, settling into his scent.
“Let’s say it was all dark.” He spoke into your temple.
“I thought there was a change?”
He gave an affectionate chirp and nuzzled you. “There has.”
You slid a hand up to his neck to feel his pulse.
It beat evenly for you. “It was around the same time as yours. Before I gave my progress note. Days spent in the slums. Breathing the rancid air I once favored… I… I suppose it is at your lowest you receive the best perspective.”
“Donnie-”
“I know…” He kissed an apology for cutting you off. “I must learn the hard way it seems.”
You gave a reluctant nod.
“I don’t like that way of life, experiencing it now. If distilled, I suppose I like controlled chaos. I like knowing an outcome. I like watching the world burn, but… I don’t believe I prefer it by my hand. Call it entertainment as it would need to be a collapse that doesn’t affect you in the slightest.”
You leaned up where you were tucked under his chin.
He stroked your spine. “I did not sleep once the entirety of the time I was gone. Not for lack of trying, but it was as if my body could not rest knowing it was without yours.”
Your eyes closed.
“Hallucinations came at a certain point. I am built for higher tolerance, but that does not mean my mind does not slip.”
You slipped your fingers into the hinge of his shell.
He squeezed you lightly. “Nothing to fear. Can I share with you what I saw?”
You forced yourself to hear the first half of his sentence. “What?”
“I saw you. I saw us. I saw memories. I saw things yet to come…” He trailed off and you could feel him smiling. “I saw happiness that I was worthy of.”
You held him close.
He dipped his lips to press your forehead. “My truest desire was not one of ruin. It was working in my lab, you visiting me with a stroller. A life full.”
“Those loose lips of yours.” You kissed his neck. “You’ve brought up babies a few times now. What happened that being only pillow talk?”
“Would you like kids?”
“With you?”
He gave a single offended grunt. “Who else?”
“We might need to adopt…” You leaned your worries into him.
The blood test. 
Negative.
Not for a lack of trying. 
There was the catchall of his birth control, but you weren’t sure if that was really the only cause. 
He seemed unaffected. “The child would still be ours.”
You snapped your head up to see him.
“It would still be with me.” He spoke reassurance.
You kissed him. “Yes, someday.”
He lingered against it. “I’m withdrawing from the Hidden City completely. I’ll transfer all my holdings. I’ll cherry pick my successors. I will go only legitimate… with more than a few offshore accounts.”
“I thought you weren’t allowed…?”
“I’m not allowed to fully quit. I will forever be a sort of target, but I also know the system better than anyone. I was raised by it. If I restructure everything and leave no one wanting, they will be less inclined to come after me.”
“It sounds easy, but-”
“It will not be. This will be an extremely dangerous, arduous, tedious, and a miserable change. Any other version of me would despise how flagrant I’m being. Needlessly selfish. I’m spitting in my own face.”
You studied him before stroking his jaw and smiling. “You’re morally grey.”
He bobbed with laughter. “I like that.”
“Yeah?” You moved to kiss him.
He took your lips, greedily. “Very much so.”
“You’ll be happy?”
“I am happy.”
You swam in a light blush. “I meant doing this. This is… huge… Donnie, this has been your life.”
He sighed. “Unfortunately, I will kick and scream. I may also have to bend our rules and commit a few vile acts. A show of power even in retreat is a potent one.”
“You’re going to kill?” You stared at him knowingly.
“A few… It is yet to be seen, but I imagine… five…? Or so tops…?” He grimaced.
“Only if necessary.” You leaned into him with a shake of your head.
“Of course.”
“I… I’m not sure how to feel. If this is what you want, you know I support you, but it feels…?”
“Surprising? Sudden? As if this isn’t actually occurring?”
“That and way more.”
“It has been a drawing culmination. I feel as though I am dangling from an invisible thread. I am sure I am held as I haven’t fallen, but it seems improbable that I have not died.”
You tried to picture that.
“I suppose I could have… What an interesting choice of afterlife for someone such as me…” He flicked his gaze and caught your lips.
You kissed back his comedy.
“My concerns are my own. Overall, I have full confidence. You cinched it.”
“Me?”
“Seeing you. I have spent all this time back in my natural habitat unsettled. Miserable. Plagued by insomnia. Taking no pleasure in my favorite game of manipulation.”
You gazed into his eyes.
There was only truth in them. “The moment I stepped into our home, all that ill will evaporated. I was whole again. Immediately soothed. I believe that is why I enjoyed the hacking and the destruction of the double date. I had you by my side.”
“You like being bad with me?” You asked with a light tease.
“I like being anything with you.” He bumped his beak to your nose. “However, I did take that into account. I played out exercises in which you were my cohort.”
“We’ve played that more than once already.” Your lids lowered.
He lapsed into a momentary churr before clearing it with his throat. “In guise, yes. Enjoyed. Relished. Savored. In reality… I wanted to vomit. The thought of you having to deal with any percentage, no matter how small, of what is required to do of what I have done. Of…” His attention dipped, haunted. “More than what you’ve already suffered.”
You kissed him back to the present.
He came and nuzzled into you. “Never.”
You settled comfortably against his lips.
He pulled away the slightest amount and you felt the flicker of worry. “Unless, of course, that is what you desire…?”
You opened your eyes wide to translate how serious you were. “No. Not even. Heroes and villains… the whole thing is… not good. I don’t… I don’t want to do either. I just want to be me and I just want to be with you.”
You watched emotions march through his ragged form. “You are so sure you won’t make mistakes…”
“I’m not.” You pressed your hands into the plastron over his head. “I’m as scared as anyone else.”
“You’re not scared of me…”
“You’re not a mistake.”
All hitting a breaking point, he enveloped you like a tide. You let the warm waters wash you out to sea where you had no worries for the depths supporting you. They were all known, even if they weren’t, and you had full trust that you and your partner would navigate whatever necessary.
NEXT
Both my betas are getting pummeled with work but they still make time for me! I can't thank @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83 enough!!
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bts5sosempire · 1 year
Text
the tyrant (ii)
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sukuna ryomen x reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4,197
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: arrange marriage, mention of infertility, polygamous marriage, slow-burn yandere, usage of drug usage (nothing harmful), power imbalance, slight unhinged sukuna, body multilation, minor character introduction, mention of puking, Sussykuna
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: "you were the apple of Sukuna's eyes, the one who brought him solace and everything. The only thing you were incapable of was giving him a child, an heir he wised to spoil lole he did to you."
𝐚/𝐧: damn, I lie about Sukuna going apeshit, since this is slow burn, I wanted to finshied it but then it wouldn't make sense. I feel like I gotta split this yandere fic into segments, I wanted it to end with only two parts or chapters. 🥲 but seems like it's gonna be more istg. Also, please lemme know if you want to be tagged in the "comment" section.
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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The dining room was quiet when they saw you; everyone was stunned, and no one made any backhanded comments or told tales of you when you walked behind Sukuna. You were seated in your usual spot, your table near Sukuna, as always. It was located on the right side of Sukuna, while Eisha was on the left. Even Sukuna wanted to forgo the traditions of having you on the right since he wished to have you on his left instead. The only person who could remain on the left side, near the heart, was the principal wife. Anyone else is not granted that privilege.
"We were wondering about what happened to Second Lady (Name) since it's been a while since we have gathered fully to enjoy a hearty meal," one of the concubines sweetly expresses in a courtesy manner, hiding half their face with an embroid silk handkerchief to fake an expression of curiosity.
No one truly knew what happened to you, not even Eisha herself. While you sit quietly waiting for the food to be served, Sukuna makes a quick reply of dissonance, "I happened during those last few days." It was a dry response, but he spared them no loyalty and words of sweet glaze. Sukuna lazily picked up a cup full of sake and down it. The concubine who spoke earlier took a few seconds to realize what Sukuna meant and flushed pink. It didn't take long for everyone to catch on also, and soon they were suddenly looking elsewhere, eyes darting around nervously, touching their neck and objects idling around their table. Even Eisha lifted her eyes to look at Sukuna; a jolt of jealousy shot through her heart as she uncomfortably also looked away.
No one comments on that or dares say anything; you, on the other hand, didn't bother to correct nor have the spit to say anything. Sometimes you wish you could truly appreciate Sukuna when it comes to your defense, but the multiple predicaments he had made you go through were enough to deter your thoughts of doing it.
You sit silently, your mind idling somewhere else, not even when two servants carefully present you with freshly cooked and well-made sustenance on your small table. There wasn't a sound besides the bottom of the plates and bowls making small clatters. "Enjoy your dishes, Madam." A servant girl quietly whispers, not lifting her head to look at you. That's when your attention was returned at the same time. You look down at your dishes and swiftly side-eyeing the heavily pregnant concubine portions next to you, then Eisha across from you and everyone else. You then return your gaze to your food and discover it is different than all the concubines sitting in the room. Sure, you understand that everyone has specific food preferences and allergies, but you couldn't help but wonder why the sudden change in your diet.
Sukuna, leaning over to your side, saw you looking at your food with a bit of a query. "I made an adjustment for you." He leans even further and murmurs only for you to hear, "It was said to be good for you and helps your rate of succession to conceiving." Suddenly your appetite drops more than before. You try not to shoot him down with a look of resentment, letting full well that you don't appreciate him trying to control every aspect of your life. You may be a wife of a bargain, but there's no way in hell that you'll allow him to force you to bring a child into this world.
Out of habit, you reach under your right sleeve, subtly toying with the thick clasp jeweled bangle on your right wrist from your late deceased parents before they pass away. Twisting it around it, the warm metal brings you a sense of closeness to them.
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A few weeks have passed since you resume eating in the dining room with others. Though you successfully disguise your utter disgust when the same portion of food arrives during the first week, your lack of appetite goes unnoticed by Sukuna. So now he tried to switch it up now and then to appease you.
By now, it's almost a routine for you to be in your room quietly, retching into a pail after consuming enough to get him off your back. You spend approximately forty minutes in the same room as everyone once you eat your potion, the thirty minutes eating your food slowly, and the next ten minutes sitting and quietly waiting out before excusing yourself to throw up the content right after secretly. No one questioned it, not even Sukuna himself. As long as he sees you eat it in front of him, he doesn't care; everyone is glad you are gone so they can try to steal the leisure of Sukuna's attention.
Your stomach muscles hurt once you throw up most of the content; you grab the water bowl and swab around your mouth before soothing them out into the pail. Weakly pushing yourself away from the bucket, you place a hand over your chest and pat it gently a few times. Yumi went to the closet where the futons are stored and brought out the secret stash of dishes, placed them on the table for you, "Mistress, your food," and quickly grabbed your pail to toss away the evidence. You made it known to Yumi to bring extra food dishes during the eating period, servants weren't allowed to eat in the kitchen as they had their eating area, so this gave Yumi time to get as much as she could. Even if they do see Yumi getting food, the other kitchen staff won't question it since Yumi never really eat with them. Plus, there's plenty to go around; little food that goes missing is uncommon.
You drag yourself to the small table and see that the servants and Masters almost eat the same thing, but the riches eat the better quantity. Yumi returned to the room and shut the door with ease; she quickly kneeled in front of you. "Mistress, I brought a lot for you, so eat a lot." You grab the chopstick and start digging into the cold food.
While eating, you can't help thinking that not only dealing with Sukuna was exhausting, but now you have to thread even thinner on thin ice. You wish to be just another woman. Maybe you wouldn't have to deal with his unhinged obsession with you.
Somewhere at the same time...
"How long do I have to wait for everything to set?" Sukuna questions the doctor whose body went rigid. Even if the pink-haired man didn't lift his eyes from the Shogi board and give the death stare, the doctor could feel eyes piercing his already deflated soul from the back. There are certain things that Sukuna has limited patience for.
"If...Lady (Name) has been eating what's been prescribed and drinking the tonic well daily. There are chances to ensure that she will successfully give you a child." They spoke carefully, "But give it a month or two at best for a better succession; since we're still at the early stage, the chances are slim to none."
Sukuna took a deep breath and let it out slowly, hand gently placing the Shogi piece on the board with a tap. "I see." The doctor sets down the motor and pestle down with trembling hands; every day, the doctor learns to unlock new fears he never thought he would have or relive the ones he already had. God, take him already, please. "Do you have what I require ready?"
The doctor let out a choke-out 'yes,' made his way over and presented Sukuna with two different powders. "The red powder here increases your virility as you wanted; take it every two days. The white powder..." Sukuna made a hand motion to stop the doctor from talking anymore.
"Uraume," Sukuna called out, and a person who had an androgynous appearance with hair that was red and white, almost resembling the pattern of a koi fish. They shut the sliding door behind them with no sound. The doctor almost got spooked as he didn't hear the person coming in, but next, they were in awe of the person's beauty, and a slight blush dusted their cheeks. "You know what to do with the white powder, right?" Uraume didn't need Sukuna's instructions to understand what must be done; they only respectfully bowed to their Master and collected the required powder before exiting the room.
The doctor was urged to ask about Sukuna's intention but chickened out since his life was not worth dying over what the Lordship does. They wanted to live as long a life as possible by being able to get married and have kids and see their likely next generation; if they made a mistake and unraveled the demon's wrath, they might see themselves asking why they were on the first floor, which is heaven.
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Before you knew it, a month and a half went by, and you were outside in the sweltering sun, a light coat of sweat encasing your body like a second layer of skin underneath. "Mistress, you have been standing here for hours. Don't you want to go back to the castle and rest?"
You shook your head, "I still want to stay here and help." You reach into the wagon and pull a medium sack of rice for a family of three. With a soft smile, you present to the family as they graciously thank you before going to the next stand to get a new pair of clothes. While you look into the far distance and wait for the next person or family, something bumps into your leg; you peer down and notice a child no older than four.
Their skin was caked in dirt and grim, skin tanned from being out in the sun. They look at you with big doe eyes. "Oh, hello there," you spoke down at the child in astonishment, who sniffed a snot back. "What are you doing here?" You crouch down to their level, "You shouldn't be alone, or your parents will be worried."
"I don't have any," the child tells you, and you were taken aback once more.
"Ah...well, do you have anyone else to take care of you?" You assess the child and notice the holes in their clothes and how thin their body and limbs are; a sense of sympathy for them passes through you.
Before the child can answer you, a woman's shrill voice screams in terror, and you immediately stand up and put the child behind you, and Yumi is instantly standing next to you. A group of ten male bandits passes through the crowd of people and families, pushing them aside, laughing as they enjoy the fear they have caused. They aimlessly swing their swords and spears around, not caring who is in the way.
A group this large shouldn't go unnoticed by the gatekeepers or authorities. Unless they all go single at a time to not cause a rise of suspicion or pose as citizens, then it would be understandable.
"Toss all your money and valuables into this bag! Food throws it in front of us!" The leader, you suppose, cackled loudly. "You look pretty nice; care to join me?" They grab a girl no older than sixteen by the wrist and pull them to their chest. "In bed, of course." This makes the young girl's face turn into disgust, and she tries to pry her wrist away. The leader didn't as much put up a fight and let her wrist go. The young girl ran back into the comforting arm of her parents.
Yumi grabs your sleeve, "Mistress, what do we do?" Her glances shifted between you and the bandits. You fear that if she doesn't slow down, her eyes might cross next.
You were silent, watching the scene unfold before you, observing what should be done next, but at the same time, anger brewed in your chest like ongoing lava. You rip out your arm from Yumi's hold and match toward them. "Hey, you," they were about a head taller than you; you gran the leader by the shoulder and turned them your way. A loud smack was heard; you backhanded the one leading the group. They were taken aback by your brute, that the smirk and terrorizing face they held was wiped off. It was filled with outrage.
"You stupid fucking bitch," they growled out every word and didn't hesitate to slap you right back as the side of your face exploded in pain and was turned to the side. The corner of your lip stings too. Your neatly low bun came undone from the impact that the hairpin that occupies it flew somewhere to the side. Despite the pain, you clench your jaws and turn your head to face them with feline eyes. "Wipe that look off your face right now." They spoke, grabbing your lower jaw, fingers digging into the cheek pockets.
"Have you no shame? To walk into this side of the city, parading as you own it?" Your words evoke the leader's wrath as they bring your face closer to theirs. Cold amber eyes stare into your very own pools.
"When do we outcast men know shame? We only take," one of their free hands groping your waistline, that this made you push at their chest for a pause of space, "and take until there's nothing left. You make a fine example." Then their eyes shifted from scanning your features to the ample size of your chest and the curves of your hips and waist. Their expression becomes lecherous, "It's been a while since I've tasted a noblewoman down the road. You're quite a beautiful woman, too, not one that I've seen before."
"Wow, you're lower than an animal," a new voice spoke out, and before you and the bandit leader could react, the butt end of a spear was swung and hit at the side of their head so that it lurched them away from you. It happens so fast but slowly simultaneously that you can't even register. "Are you alright?" They got in front and shielded you.
"Y-Yes." You could only mutter out one word. Their broad back obscures your view, casting a shadow, turf of jet black hair with a low ponytail, how permanent scars are running on both tan arms.
"Now you have done it!" The no-name leader bandit rage, he motions a hand rapidly for his men to prepare.
The spear wielder then pushes you back gently to create a gap for combat, "stand back." Yumi finally comes and pulls you back away from the fight, as you are reluctant. The spear wielder twirls their weapon around their wrist onto the hand with such proficiency it creates a small gust of dirt to form in a circle around them. You thought it was a beautiful sight; amazement was the word. They swing the spear at an angle that the dirt circle splits in all directions. A strong breeze made its way where you were; you had to shield your eyes from the dirt.
The fight was promising; the spear shone in the afternoon light, each glimmer blinded the enemies, and how the person who saves you could deflect each sword swing that was thrust and slice his way like it was nothing like it was a mere child's play. If he were to be scouted in war or a military position, he could go far in his life and career.
A few bandits dropped onto the floor in pain, clutching to where the blunt side of the spear hit after being immobilized, and the rest were hesitant to fight since they were second-guessing why they were even here in the first place. The remaining bandits were all standing, shifting their tenuous footing around while giving each other nervous looks since they couldn't even land a blow against their opponent, who had taken down their buddies as if he was playing around.
Before your little hero could continue with his fighting glory, a sword was impaled right in the middle, from the back, where the belly button lay. With upwards motion in one substantial cut, the body splits in half as soft pink hair, and red eyes are revealed behind it.
Sukuna draws his sword back and swings it to the side; the blood comes right off the metal like thick paint, and splotches of vermillion paint the dirt ground with a heavy brown. "L-Lord Sukuna!" A citizen cried; they dropped onto their knees and prayed for their govern lord to save them from the bandits. The rest of the people in previous peril fall onto their knees, too, for their God. The bandits suddenly turn pale when they see who they are looking at; their knees feel like it's about to give them out of pure terror. Sukuna wasn't known as the Demon of War for a reason. The reason why Sukuna was dubbed the Demon of War is that he's genuinely alive when a bloodbath is created. It's almost like chaos was his vitality because which way his sword swings, victory is always ensured in his grasp. All the deities must be favoring him before he was born.
When Sukuna makes eye contact with you, you look away immediately. But when he saw how your lips were bruised and bleeding, along with a mark appearing on your delicate cheek, the summer evening felt like a snowstorm. "Who dare to touch and harm my wife?"
"It was him, my Lord!" The same young woman who the leader had harassed earlier pointed at the man who was sitting duck on the ground, shrieking in fear when Sukuna made a beeline towards him. Being snitched on, he tried to crawl away pathetically on the floor, shouting for help. The leader used a hand to help him slither away, but it was met with a sword stabbing right through it, and he yowled in anguish and pain.
"Don't run away just yet," Sukuna says in a low tone; he presses the back of his foot into the man's back and digs the sword more profoundly into the leader's hand. At the same time, he twists the blade around, causing more pools of blood to flow from the wound at the top. "I still have a lot of plans for you."
Bandit Leader: "Please don't kill me! I beg of you! It was an honest mistake; W-we'll leave and never return!"
"An honest mistake? You parade on here like you own the province, and you even dare to touch my wife with your filthy hand." Sukuna applies more pressure with each passing moment into his foot into the leader's back until they can't talk anymore, as if their ribs are about to be crushed and pierce their lungs. "I don't think I can forgive you." A swing of a spearhead tip was thrust into Sukuna, but Sukuna didn't lose composure as he caught beneath the spear's neck and grappled it with a tight fist. "Who are you to interrupt me?"
"Yuichi," your hero finally gives out his name as he struggles to apply force to the spear. Yuichi grits as Sukuna uses opposing strength against him that the spear is being strained with how much it's taking from both people. "I don't appreciate you killing people based on whimsical."
"Oh? I'm not being impulsive; I'm doing what's right. Coal like you, who isn't up to my equal, shouldn't be telling what I should and shouldn't do to people on my land." With a twist from Sukuna's wrist, the spearhead was snapped at the neck.
This is where you step in; you don't want someone as chivalrous as Yuichi to be killed on accident from Sukuna's temperament. "Enough." You step in front of Yuichi to face Sukuna. "Too much commotion already causes me to fall behind my schedule. I don't need more bloodshed than necessary."
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It took a while to get things back in order; everyone belongings were given back to them along with their relief packages.
"Do you have to imprison him?" You ask Sukuna, who is walking beside you. Though you would've put a gap between you and him, your mind was occupied with Yuichi's safety. Again.
Sukuna: "He stood against me."
You: "He was doing what's right; you can't expect everyone to follow your beliefs blindly."
Sukuna: "You seem quite fond of him."
Your eyes suddenly flitted to Sukuna in suspicion, "He saved me; I should be thankful." Carefully choosing your words not to cause an accidental death that would forever guilt you, Sukuna hums.
"Then I should be thankful, too," there was a slight edge of dissonance in his appreciation. Sukuna wasn't going to admit that he was jealous of seeing how you stood up against him, too, to protect that lowborn from him. It was because the way you shine for someone else always ebbed away his sanity little by little that he didn't know it himself.
He wants to be held in that light, too, that it's slowly killing him inside. He will admit that you smitten him; your incorporeal mind that's like an ever-shifting maze or a kaleidoscope drew him in. Sukuna was a man who was constantly amazed by the wonderment and prettiest of things that he would try to conquer it. A man who tested the limits that not even Gods would try.
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News of you spread like wildfire the next few days in the castle. You sit quietly in the tea garden, admiring and enjoying the views of lush green. But someone's presence always sticks to you harder than sticky rice itself. It was no other than your insufferable husband.
Ever since you had convinced Sukuna to release Yuichi and invited him to the castle for compensation and a reward, you told him that you would personally give them yourself. Of course, that didn't sit right for Sukuna, who had invited himself uninvitedly to sit in the tea garden with you. You don't need more words of you to spread more since every day is always something new about you for the harem to laugh at.
Yuichi, who kneels before you and Sukuna, tries to obey and follow the castle's ordinances. He was still the same as before, willful and reckless.
"I thank you for the other day," you start, "if you didn't try to prevent the problem from worsening, who knows what would've happened." Three servants from your side didn't need to be told what to do, as they quickly presented Yuichi with his reward and reimbursement.
Yuichi was gifted a medium size wooden box that could be held under his arm. He opens it and sees if it is filled with gold that could set him up for life. All the yellow almost blinds him. Next, it was a long dark oak box, and Yuichi opened it to see it was a well-crafted spear; it wasn't just any spear. Yuichi recognized the craftsmanship from anywhere; it was a heavenly creation made by a blacksmith who barely gifted his art to others.
Yuichi was in awe that his eyes sparkled, and his mouth creased into a small smile that you could imagine a pair of dog ears and a tail sprouting. You couldn't help but let a soft smile also grace your lips. The exchanges didn't go unnoticed by Sukuna.
"I hope you enjoy your gift-" before you could be finished, you were cut off.
"I only want this; I don't need the gold," Yuichi said in a beat as he lifted his new girlfriend from the case and tested the weight to see what he was dealing with. The consequence was a bit heavier on the side; some spears were made to be flexible and lightweight but to deal with a spear that was considered more than strength to handle it is something. But this shouldn't be a problem for Yuichi, who loves to explore his new weapon and get familiar with it.
"Well, then, only the spear it is." You tried to hide your astonishment, but Sukuna picked it up again from the side.
"You may leave," Sukuna tried to dismiss Yuichi.
"Eat something before you go," you cut right after Sukuna, who bites the inside of his cheeks and tries not to flex his jaws and roll his eyes in annoyance. You wouldn't let him chase off someone without adequately treating them first.
Somehow you get the feeling that Sukuna didn't like you fawn over the young man who was around the same age as you. You appreciate the man as a future friend, any close male relationship(s) could end on the spot.
But how could you let this opportunity go? This is finally a worthy opponent immune to Sukuna's nature, and you intend to make the best of it. After all, since Yuji isn't around to be your shield and protector anymore, you have someone else to ward off Sukuna's urgency.
This is a perfect kill.
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taglist: @ladywolf44005 @lucyrocks86 @lilliansstuff
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honeypipin · 5 months
Text
Atlas pt 4
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Chapter 4!!
Disclaimer: Mentions of j4rking off, and könig is still delusional, but its ok, he's our delusional baby girl 🫶
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Angel?
A few days had passed since your last encounter with Fredrick, that sweet morning of getting to hold your own personal heater hadn't been mentioned since. Especially since he'd been stationed at his base again.
You missed seeing him, plus you couldn't even thank him for the other night, even vicki was upset about it! She pulled out her favourite markers and glitter to thank him, her friend had done the same too, but the cards still sat on the kitchen table, waiting to be given to their rightful owner.
Whatever, you had work to be done.
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König was bored shitless, every cryptid he was sent out to deal with for the past week was so weak, he barely shot a bullet. The worst thing about this was the fact he couldn't even see you! Stuck at his base, and the few soldiers that he actually didnt mind the company of were stationed somewhere else. No friends, no pretty neighbour, not even pretty neighbour's funny daughter who giggled at his dad jokes. Just him, and fucking idiots on base, with weak cryptids that don't even entertain him.
Atleast he got his phone time to time, and the shitty cameras in his office... he could afford watching the security footage of your house right now, right? No one would know... no one's allowed to enter his office... and the dream he had last night was a bit too good to be solved with just one jerking off session... surely he could spoil himself a little right? Let himself watch you change a bit, he's had such a difficult week afterall! (Plus in his mind, you offering to share a bed with him out of politeness is basically asking for his hand in marriage, and he was glad to accept)
He locks his door, gets comfy in his chair, and turns on his phone, such a long password, but you know he can't just let anyone easily get into his phone and see the pictures he took of you. So obviously a 30 character long password is needed, he always had good memory afterall.
He clicks onto the cam footage app, and starts to reach down to his zipper KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
"Sir?"
Oh for fucks sake.
He scowls and gets up, turns off his phone and walks over to the door to unlock it.
"Yes?"
"You are um, needed in a meeting soon."
"What? I was meant to be free today."
"Cryptid fucked with our internet last night, so we've got a specialist who needs to talk about security measures, and who's getting it up and running as soon as possible again."
König sighs, no wonder he couldn't access the cameras this morning. "Does soon mean now?"
"Well, she's here, so yes, preferably"
"Understood, usual meeting hall?"
"Yes, sir."
"Got it, you are dismissed."
König made his way over to the hall, a bit grouchily, but still made his way.
However, his mood turns around quite quickly.
He opens the doors to find what he is sure is an angel studying a computer screen, is he hallucinating? It can't be you could it?
But it is, and the smile you give him is so you, the happy "Fredrick!" You give him is most definitely you. He has just been so lucky recently, has god finally taken pity on him?
"...hello, what are you doing here?"
"I believe I am your specialist today"
"I see."
König fully believes you are best specialist he could have gotten today, watching and listening to you prattle on about better cameras and multiple back up generators really does soothe his soul, and seeing your eyes light up at the base's current software makes him wonder if he should start destroying the place so that you come over more often... definitely plausible.
"Oh, good, Fully updated! Hmm."
"What is it?"
"I'm not sure how your cryptid got in to be honest. This feels like last week all over again."
"They are getting more tricky nowadays."
"Well we can't let them do that, can we?"
"True."
He sits back and watches you work your laptop, he wonders how you even got in, new vehicles aren't even allowed in through the gates... don't tell him you got here in a taxi! Please do, actually, the chance to drive you home, hold the door open for you like the gentleman he is, and maybe, just maaaybeeee, get invited into your house for some food and a little kiss as a thank you? Maybe? A man could only dream.
"Right, everything should be up and running now."
You completely snapped him out of his daydreams, I mean he almost jumped.
"Erm, yes, thank you, you have been of great help."
"Ha, says you!"
"Well I never said I didn't help" He delights in the half smile he puts on your lips.
"Fair, fair... oh yeah, Vicki and Esha have made cards for you, when can I bring them over?"
"I will be back home next Wednesday, so sometime then?"
"That works. Again thank you so much, I seriously owe you."
"No worries, it was no fault of your own."
It was his.
"Ok, see you wednesday!"
"See you."
He watched you walk off to the exit and sighed.
It was his fault that cryptid got in, he left up the shutters, and a cryptid had managed to trick the girls because he was an idiot. He was lucky this time but... how could he try think of being your boyfriend when he couldn't even protect you right?
An overwhelming sense of guilt hung over his shoulders, he sat back down on the chair and slouched into it, terrible posture, he knows, and his legs wide open wouldn't have been a good look to his old superiors too. He can already imagine the laps he would have to run for looking arrogant for those arseholes.
This basement idea is becoming awfully popular in his mind... well, you would definitely be safe there.
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anguishedlurker · 5 months
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Don't Shoot; It's me! No, the other guy! (#38, fake body swap)
HI Y'ALL welcome to my ecto-imposion fic! I'm the writer of course and my wonderful artist was @astravis , and @thesilentbard plus @dragonsdomain he;ped me out with betaing! Check them all out! Buckle up, because this is just the first chapter! And maybe look at the ao3 posting
Of things Danny should have predicted, Skulker and Technus teaming up one day was going to land pretty high on the list.
It all started so normal, too! Getting multiple ghosts at once wasn’t uncommon anymore, and Skulker appearing? Must be a day that ends with Y.
Technus, though...
“I’ll pelt you yet, whelp!” Skulker bellowed, having been ineffectually brained with the remains of a lamppost.
Technus was thusly absorbing the lamppost's remains into his suit, adding yet another object that would qualify as a taser in the right circumstances.
“AND I, TECHNUS, WILL USE THIS OPPORTUNITY TO-”
“No, really, do you ever shut up?!” Danny cut him off, meanwhile diving behind the remains of- ooohhh this was that vegan place Sam liked. He was going to hear about this one for weeks.
“Your disrespect remains immeasurable, child.” Skulker growled, not wasting time in obliterating what was left of the building.
“YEAH, WHAT IS HE? CHOPPED LIVER?”
Danny didn’t pay this mind, throwing some potshots at the both of them as he skittered away for new cover.
“He’s a mecha pain in my- AAA”
We interrupt this smart comment for debris! Debris; A mark of your failure to protect.
Debris wasn’t a new threat, but regardless? That was going to bruise.
Danny was ready to punch them to paste barehanded if it’d get this fight to stop. Skulker already had a weapon making shield borderline painful to maintain against blasts, and with Technus in tow couldn’t be trusted to not get a random power-boost.
Meaning this needed to end, now!
However, “now” would have to be sometime after Technus’s blasts stopped slapping him down like an especially annoying kitten.
“Ah, finally showing cowardice whelp?” Skulker taunted, lazily aiming one of his guns as Danny darted somewhere over an alleyway.
“I prefer to call it intelligence!”
“RUNNING WILL NOT HELP YOU HERE, PEST!” Technus borderline giggled.
Clearly, Danny thought as a piece of roof exploded behind him.
… That one might’ve been that weirdo occult shop that was trying to set up without him noticing. Couldn’t say he’d miss it, if nothing else.
It was really starting to look like “damage control” meant doing some damage himself to cut this short.
He was absolutely going to hear it from Sam once he was done here, as it wasn’t like ecto-ice was easy to clean up. (God knows what's IN that Danny!)
Somewhere in the distance the Fenton GAV wailed, a bad sign for all participants.
So… one shot to do this, maybe two… Eh. He’s had worse odds before!
One last sacrificial rubble pile to buy a second, aaand-
“I DO BELIEVE WE MUST CUT THIS ONE SHORT! SKULKER, IF YOU WOULD?”
“It's a pleasure to use this new toy.”
Danny didn’t even get time to throw an icicle at them.
The rubble exploded, and then Danny exploded, flung across the street like a sack of potatoes and making several things give an upsetting crack on landing.
Screw bruising at this point, he’d be lucky if all of this managed to heal before Monday.
Note to self: Never ever let Technus Skulker pair up ever again.
“FASCINATING RESULTS!” Technus beamed as Danny groaned his way onto his feet.
“Your move, whelp.” Skulker growled, gun pointed at Danny.
“That little toy? Ha, it barely even-!”
And see, there’s many things about Danny’s powers that would never be properly explained to his friends. How intrinsic they all were by now, above all else.
A running start and pathetic hop into the air didn’t actually mean much for flying; by all accounts Danny could go from zero to sixty in a standing position.
So, the raw humiliation of that pathetic hop- intended to be a full assault launch- landing him in a kneeling position took a second to process.
It was just so impossible.
The metal on Skulkers helm twisted to a smile as the gun gave a shrill whine.
Technus giggled as he absorbed a car into his already overburdened monstrosity of a mech, clearly thinking this fight was done.
The GAV siren had never been so loud.
There was really only one choice: Run. Run for his life.
The street lit up behind him, adrenaline carrying him much faster than he had any right to be on foot.
“RUNNING AGAIN, WHELP?” Technus shouted, much too close for Danny’s liking.
“That’s Skulker’s thing!” He shouted back, at a total loss for anything witty.
“I’ve done no such thing as run, child!”
“I THINK HE MEANS THE TERM WHELP.”
Oh good, yes! Get distracted!
“Your thievery of my vocabulary will not go unpunished; yet, for now, we have our prey-”
“UNPUNISHED? WE ARE ALLIES! TO RAISE YOUR HAND IN VIOLENCE AGAINST ME NOW WOULD-”
“Not right now you imbecilic-”
The blasts behind him were slowing down immensely already, buying him a slide around a corner with enough lead to shove himself between buildings.
Still, even with this he wasn’t exactly well hidden.
His options, in this fine back alley, were… A broken mirror, two cardboard boxes, and a dumpster.
The dumpster was uncomfortably moist as he shoved himself in and closed the top, and the smell- is this the nasty burger dumpster??
Slowly the town map in his head adjusted. Eugh… Desperation carried him farther than he thought.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE’VE LOST HIM!?”
“The shot must have suppressed his signature. The tracker will be borderline worthless unless we are on top of him.”
Oh, good! Truly, a fair trade for his powers! And once he was done being sarcastic, probably the single blessing he’d get out of this.
“I WOULD CALL THAT EVEN LESS THAN BORDERLINE.”
“Your worthless insistence on semantics is duly noted.”
The bickering continued into the distance, followed shortly by the GAV wailing and his father pointedly screaming.
“Rotten ghosts, molecule by molecule would be too good for you!”
“Phantoms not re-appearing on the radar, but keep an eye out regardless. Who knows what cloaking tactics it’s come up with this time. To the right!” His mom warned, getting fainter and fainter (in the wrong direction) as the GAV sped after Technus and Skulker. Or wherever the altered signal was leading them.
One would think it’d only work the once...
Danny was left to contemplate the situation in silence. Nothing would get done in the dumpster, sure, but hey, uncomfortably moist? More like comfortably hidden.
But beyond that being cowards talk, he reeaallly couldn’t sit there and trust that his parents or even Valerie would pull through on this one.
Okay, well, first task; Phase out of the dumpster.
An action that should be on the same level as ‘flex your jaw’, and yet, Danny was no less uncomfortably moist in sauce juice by the end of his attempt.
The whole thing was unpleasantly reminiscent of the Fenton crammer, minus the shrinking. Powers suffocated to the vaguest wisps in the back of his skull, borderline hallucinations to his futile attempts to use them.
Still stuck in the dumpster, Danny mentally conceded to plan B; Phone a friend.
Tucker was, unfortunately, out at a tech event for the weekend. Which meant it needed to be Sam.
Sam, who was stuck appeasing her parents today in exchange for the stunt with Ms. Hoffman last week.
Somewhere in the distance shots sounded off, indicating that someone had found his two enemies.
Danny didn’t have high hopes as he popped open the dumpster lid and shakily dialed. First of all it’d require Sam to already be out of the dreaded social situation, and secondly it’d mean he got a stroke of good luck if she picked up either way.
His anxiety collapsed to resignation as the ring tone meandered on, leaving him to ignore the layers of irony and humor in his ringtone having been changed to Mystery Skulls’ Ghost.
Pink blasts flashed in the sky from somewhere distant, meaning either Vlad got involved or Valerie had shown up- one more likely than the other.
“Hi! If you don’t know who this is, you shouldn’t have called anyways, and if you do and I didn’t pick up then I’m ignoring you specifically and your voicemail better give me a good reason to call back. And Tucker, if that’s you, I’m not paying for that. You know I’m not. Stop asking. Leave a message after the-”
Danny didn’t wait any longer to hang up. No voicemail would ever be secure enough to risk actually leaving one, and leaving one wouldn’t even speed up the response time.
An especially bright pink and green flash washed over what was probably half the town, and a large crash sounded from several different points in the area.
Now down the phone a friend option, Danny elected to revisit and modify plan A by throwing his leg over the side of the dumpster instead.
You know, the lame way to exit.
None of his bones liked him as he hit the ground, the wind in his metaphorical sails really not keeping up with what he needed to be doing.
Even with the self deprecation heavily suppressed, the situation didn’t really brighten outside of the dumpster. How, precisely, would boxes aide him here? Box Ghost was still pretty peeved over the whole cardboard-boxes-dissolve-in-water solution...
A thoughtless attempt to transition between forms left a suspiciously glass-like popping noise to ring in his ears and leave him fallen face-first onto the ground.
The most intact piece of mirror sat across him, dimly processing as unsafe for workers to be near as the gerbil controlling intelligent thought in his head took a smoke break.
… Seriously, why not have just tossed the thing into the dumpster itself? It’s right there!
The gerbil returned from its smoke break as Danny took in his reflection somewhat, the wheel powering his thoughts creaking back to life.
The crammer had slowly stripped him of every Phantom attribute until only Fenton remained, while right now the present cause to all his woes seemed to have merged his clothes straight down to his hoodie and left every other feature untouched.
It was… weird.
And deeply irrelevant, actually. He needed to either try calling Jazz (ugh) or haul himself home to see if he can’t glue a solution together (different ugh).
Time to shove himself back up to kneeling and pick the gravel out of his teeth (hrng).
While he was at it, it might be a good idea to start a list of cameras that’d need their footage wiped. Even if Fenton’s clothes weren’t incriminating he just didn’t need-
There was an ecto gun by his head, the safety giving a click as it was turned off.
“Would you like to beg?”
He knew that voice- by god did he know that voice. Valerie had to be on that hoverboard just out of his field of view.
He had to have missed some sort of movement while slumped forward by the mirror- it’s not like he wasn’t in enough pain for reality to start blurring.
But that didn’t help, did it? Because he was readily identifiable as Phantom to a girl who wanted half of him dead(er), with zero powers or wit to throw at the situation that wouldn’t just get him shot faster.
But what would help!? She didn’t have any interest in listening to Phantom, barely had any in listening to Fenton, though her lethal intent would at least be lower!
Somehow, someway, the gerbil in his head clipped through the wheel's geometry and resolved to never return.
“Don’t shoot, Val, it’s me! Danny!”
The gun got MUCH louder in response
“Well, Danny Phantom, I think knowing my name-”
“N-No! Fenton!”
He could hear the dial-up noises in Valerie's head, he himself stuck on trying to process how royally he just screwed himself over.
“Let’s suppose, for just one second here, that I don’t believe that.”
“L-look Val, belief doesn’t have much to do with the fact that I’m like, super harmless right now. Literally what would I gain by telling you that?”
He could feel her eyes stare even harder, dissecting his identity in this new light.
“Time.”
Well, he had a good run…
The alleyway promptly exploded, leaving Valerie to skitter off to who knows where as she swore worse than any adult Danny had had the displeasure of listening to.
Danny himself was left hyperventilating in the dust, promptly hopping back into the dumpster and burying himself in the worst effort towards hiding he’s probably ever managed.
“I TOLD YOU IT WOULD BE HIGHLY UNLIKELY FOR HIM TO HAVE HIDDEN HERE.”
“Disappointing, and unexpected. The chase is far more important, but what distracted her?”
“I DO NOT BELIEVE THIS TO MATTER. YOU MAY HAVE SAID PRACTICALLY ON TOP, BUT I THINK AT THIS POINT IN THE ALLEY IT’S SAFE TO SAY HE’S NOT-”
“Move it or lose it, socket-licker. One of our high value targets is running.”
“YOU ARE ONE TO TALK, SHORTSTOCK. INSULTS ASIDE, I WAS GETTING THERE.”
Skulker’s “No, you weren’t. And you’re lucky we’re working together you-” got fainter as the two continued to completely miss his idiot self hidden just under the surface of two tonnes of food slime.
This was now the second time Danny was in the same dumpster, and honestly? He STILL didn’t want to leave!
He couldn’t cave to the desire this time either- trying to out his identity to Valerie in a last ditch effort to save his hide was officially going to go down as one of his dumbest decisions ever.
He couldn’t even think of anything funny his friends would mock him with this time. It was stupid all the way down.
Feet to the ground, eyes peeled for enemies- gone for now.
Time to unbend his pride and beat his mile run record while trying to call Jazz. Hey, multitasking!
He was going to lose his mind over this one. Even without his personal missteps this was bad.
“Hi, this is Jasmine Fenton! Hopefully I can get back to you soon, but for now, please leave a message after the-”
Click.
Two options, he pondered as he did a running slide past the corner grocery store.
One: Jazz was doing tutoring and had her phone off.
Or, possibly, two: Their parents loaded her onto the GAV and didn’t take no for an answer.
He didn’t hear her earlier trying to scream advice in an attempt to circumvent the danger their parents posed to everyone, but was it even a Tuesday for her to be busy with tutoring? Or maybe she does tutoring on Thursdays…
None of it mattered obviously. He had to get to Fenton Works ASAP.
There wasn’t strictly much that could help him, but he couldn’t imagine anything going even more wrong by using the splitter to try and get some part of him functioning again.
At worst, he’d have two people to drive the Speeder so he/they could gun it to Frostbite and see what could medically be done.
This totally didn’t gloss over every logistic and science issue ever, no sir!
And even if it did, what kind of options was he supposed to come up with right now!?
One more cut through an alleyway and Danny was in the home stretch towards Fenton works.
This moment was of course the same one a massive crash and crunch of metal sounded off a block away. Maximum.
Before he’d had the saving grace of a hiding spot. Now? Not so much! All it’d take was for Skulker or Technus to remember that they could fly above buildings and-
Well there went his survival odds!
The second after, Valerie flew above their heads, shooting down at them even as they launched onto his street.
And, for as distracting as she was, he couldn’t say his odds just got any higher.
Danny nearly took the door off its hinges trying to get in faster than anything could shoot at him, barely in before the street was awash in pink and green.
Just because he knew he couldn’t get blamed for this (mostly) didn’t mean the sense that he was so dead over this stopped creeping in.
“I, TECHNUS, WOULD LIKE TO REMIND YOU THAT-” Technus screamed, caving the door in with a broken lamppost, Technus himself soon followed suit, seeming to have shed most of his mecha well before the door- though he was losing more in an effort to get in with ease.
“If this is about the extended car warranty-!” Danny shouted back, trying to bolt for the basement. Or literally any of the house defense buttons- screw that they’d target him too!
“I WOULD NEVER SINK TO SUCH LEVELS, PEST!” Technus cut him off, the severed mecha parts bursting into and spreading wires and metal throughout the house in seconds.
Skulker didn’t waste time squeezing through besides Technus, grinning even as he was focused solely on the street outside.
“The basement.” Was all Skulker said before the option was gone from him, tangled in too much metal and wire to ever think about it again.
Danny wasn’t going to get time to think about this one, bolting upstairs instead as the door frame exploded into pink.
“All of you-”
Valerie interrupted herself with a gunshot to Technus.
“, rat bastards! No respect for-”
Skulker, now.
“anyone or anything! This is a house!”
Danny, now. He could feel it burn through both his shirt and suit even as he passed the last few steps to the second story.
Thank god for adrenaline.
Dashing down the hall as Technus and Skulker both roared into action, he performed the best running leap he’d ever managed to grab and pull the chain for the ladder.
Of course, having leapt for this privilege in a house meant for his dad meant he kept sailing through the air as the ladder slammed down behind him.
That was fine! Valerie was still distracted, just roll and climb! So easy.
So easy to corner himself on a roof with no options except to jump if he wanted off.
The fight continued on beneath him as he stared over the side, his world totally silent otherwise.
Grasping for inane details in the hopes one would matter, he saw nothing of use.
The day was bright, and clear. The town was quiet. If he turned slightly, he could pretend the wake of destruction didn’t exist.
But then he’d be ignoring the wires spilling out his front door, a shell of a car deposited in the center of the street- seeming to host most of the mess as a battery.
Valerie swore worse than ever below.
Nothing could help him right now. He was stuck either standing or jumping.
Or well, maybe he could at least do something about the gaping wound in his side… that might be good.
Slowly and carefully he stripped his hoodie off, noting that the hole was smaller than he’d been mentally giving it credit for.
His side still dripping as he dropped it unceremoniously, he realized that this was a dumb plan and that he couldn’t do anything anyways.
His side wasn’t a spot he could tourniquet. Pressure only helped so much in ghost form, as even with bones he was notably more squishy(?) than a normal human.
The fighting paused for one brief moment, before getting ten times worse, Valerie inadvertently teaching him new slurs for ghosts.
Danny looked over the edge of the building again, reaching for his pocket with a prayer.
“Hi, this is Jas-”
Click.
“Hi! If you don’t know-”
Click.
“You have reached this 🌟Too Fine🌟 of a voice mail-”
One last click off, phone thusly tucked back into his pocket.
Danny stood alone over what was closer to a three story drop than a two story drop (stupid vaulted ceilings…), and quietly sat on the edge as the fight below went silent and stayed silent.
Hand to his side regardless of if it’d help, he watched the car-battery-wire mess power down and simply waited.
Sure, he could jump, but the adrenaline was winding back down. He was already hurt, bad, in multiple ways. Valerie could fly and right now he couldn’t. There was nowhere on the street to hide and even if there was plenty of places the street over he wouldn’t get that far.
He was dead meat any way he went.
He could hear the ladder clack behind him as Valerie hauled herself up.
“What a surprise! All nice and ready for me.” Valerie huffed, immediately standing at the ready with a gun. Danny only just copped a glance before turning back towards the view.
Odd, no suit nor hoverboard. Maybe Technus had managed to hit her just right and made it shut off.
“Yeah. They go through the portal at least?” He asked, barely looking back as he gripped his side a little tighter.
“And here I- what? Um. Yeah, to my knowledge.” Valerie stuttered slightly, the earnestness of his question seeming to trip her worse than Danny’s previous bomb drop.
“Good. Lock the portal when you go back down. My parents will probably open it up by next week, but hey! Stops everything for now.”
Her steps towards him slowed to a crawl, and he could sense the caution and the suspicion even as she continued regardless.
God, he was really doing this. It occurred that he could still just shove himself off the edge, but he couldn’t think of anything that could possibly solve. Guns can be pointed over roof edges.
“Uh. Thank. You? B-But no uh, tricks or-”
She stopped by his side, gun still pointed as her eyes tracked across the roof for the surprise that simply must be coming.
“Valerie, I’m really sorry you think I could ever hurt you, but I’m out. Injured and done. It’s you or it’s splatting on the pavement. Dunno how much bounce back I’ve got left right now.”
“Any last… uhm-”
This is a super stupid way to die. But he’s pretty sure he’ll be a grease stain if he jumps, which is even stupider.
“I guess... Tell Sam, Tucker, and Jazz not to beat themselves up over it.” He hummed, finally looking at Valerie again.
He wondered how much of this mess the town behind him was seeing.
The gun shook silently before lowering and turning away.
“You are him, aren’t you?” Valerie asked softly, gun already dropping from her hands.
The gun dropped with an uncomfortable clatter as Danny gave the least shaky and uncomfortable smile he could manage, Valerie's eyes not even seeing him as she fixated on his stained hoodie.
“Phantom was never this sweet.”
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Valerie clearly hadn’t focused on the words, so lasered onto her revelation that Danny’s brief twitch was entirely missed.
He couldn’t even be insulted right now; there was a certain amount of venom their fights had always had.
Silence extended further as Valerie only barely looked back up at him, still shaken.
“Thanks, I think. But uh. What now?” Danny asked, genuinely not sure. He just had to accept that insults to his other half could be addressed later.
How a reveal would go had always haunted him slightly, and this was probably a better ending than most of the realistic ones.
But even then, those fantasies always ended when she understood.
Valerie snapped to at the question, standing straight and returning to her facade of confidence.
“Helping. How’d they even do this to you?”
“Technus made Skulker a new gun, I think. It goes downhill from there.”
Carefully, Danny slid himself back onto the roof. He was struck with the sense that sudden moves would still get him killed, somehow. This was.. Too easy, almost.
Anxiety or not, the pain was also holding him back.
“Figures that those assholes would do this. Don’t suppose there’s an obvious way to fix this?”
“Not really? I mean… there might be something in the basement to help, but outside of that it’s not like I’ve got options beyond to sit here and suffer. Maybe see if Frostbite knows anything.”
“The basement, huh… Oh, thaaat’s why Skulker growled something out about it. Maybe we can-”
The GAV started wailing again, suddenly.
The offending vehicle was only streets away, and if he focused hard enough he could almost hear his dad yelling about having fixed something or other.
Farewell pain, hello adrenaline!
He was going to be so sick after today. He could just feel it.
“Bail!” He shouted, running back towards the ladder.
“What!?”
“Do you trust my parents not to shoot on sight!?”
The look of fear was immediate.
“Oh, god! Bail!”
In total agreement it was borderline a fight for the ladder and to get down to the first floor.
The wires hadn’t disappeared, leaving them precariously stood on the mess next to the kitchen.
“What’s your plan, Danny?! It’s their house!” Valerie hissed, eyeing him and the wires cautiously.
“WINDOWS ARE ALWAYS FAIR GAME!” He screeched, launching into the kitchen.
The voice of doubt in his head pointed out that it was incredibly lame for all his best executed moves for today to be so fundamentally stupid in nature.
Regardless, lifting the stand mixer and tossing it through the back window in one single uninterrupted motion, punctuated by the shattering of glass, was probably the smoothest thing he’d do today.
“YOU COULD HAVE OPENED THE WINDOW-”
“NO WE COULDN’T HAVE!” Danny yelled back, already launching himself through the opening regardless of potential cuts.
“WHAT?” Valerie screeched back, lingering before following suit.
“The Fenton Family Home Defense System locks the windows upon activation, with or without shutter activation! Even when it turns back off they’re stuck until you do a manual unlock!”
He was already bounding through the backyard, sailing himself over the fence without a second thought.
“Danny, in what world does that make sense!?”
Valerie was close behind.
“The one where my parents designed it! And the one where you’d then be stuck in a house with more weapons than people!”
“Danny, your parents are still nuts for locking-!”
“Losing battle! Pick and choose! Keep running!”
Valerie’s laugh was clear, like bells as they continued across town.
The stress was obviously getting to her- yet it was almost infectious. This was insane!
Eventually, well after they’d gone from a residential area back to business, he was yanked into a new back alley, Valerie still grinning as she caught her breath.
“And what about the door?”
“Also locked.”
She missed a beat before speaking again.
“So, what, not even the doors work until you do a system reset? That’s stupid.”
Danny had to laugh at himself right now.
“No, I just don’t remember the passcode! That door is pretty normal.”
“But you can’t leave without a code from the inside?”
“Normal for my house!” He giggled.
They were left with wheezing laughter over a near miss that wasn’t that funny to begin with.
Eventually Valerie’s hand left his shirt collar, moving to push him back slightly. Intimacy time over.
“Okay, Danny. Your parents are nuts and we don’t trust them not to shoot. Where are we going?”
“Well I could always hide in a dumpster again, but outside of that I don’t have any ideas. Sam’s busy and Jazz… well, is it Tuesday or is it Thursday, actually?”
Valerie gave him the blankest look imaginable for his question.
“It’s Saturday.”
… Well then!
“Okay, well, Jazz is tutoring. Probably. So she’s busy.”
“And Tucker, since you seem to trust your friends with this one?”
... What?
“Uh. At a tech camp somewhere in-”
“Got it. The basement might help, you said?”
Right, back to topic.
“I cannot stress that ‘might’ part enough. We’ve got a lot of weird stuff down there that’s come in handy in really stupid ways before.”
“Okay, well, that’s not great. You got an idea on how to get your parents out of the house?”
“Not in the slightest.” He admitted, shrugging as he spoke.
“Superb. Just fantastic. Okay, maybe we could camp at my place for an hour? At least until... or. Hm.”
Valerie finally lost her focus on him, looking to the side in thought.
Danny had to give credit where it was due that they were screwed in a different way, now.
Valerie’s fast turn saved his hide so he was certainly much farther than he thought he’d get, but there wasn’t much they could throw at his parents to make them disengage with the mess of wires Technus left behind. It was now valuable research material, at best.
Delightful.
“My place is probably for the best. Christ, that’s a distance to go.” Valerie muttered.
“Not to interrupt, but yeah actually. How are we getting there? Is your suit broken, or…?”
“Broken is a strong word. It self repairs, but yes, I’m grounded right now. And though I care about you, the huntress getting seen towing Phantom would not be good.”
There it was again, slighter than before but still present. The slight dissonance in how the situation was getting viewed.
Easy to shrug and move on though, right?
He probably shouldn’t.
“So… not to-”
“Look, we need to start moving. You’ve got a hat or something?”
“Man, I wish.”
“Okay, okay… shitty question, but Phantom can fly. Obviously. What can you do right now…?”
Uh.
“Uh. Nothing? Look, the blast- I think… Sorry, but what do you think happened? I just-”
Valerie’s eyes narrowed a touch in preemptive insult.
“Calling my explanation the abridged version gives it too much credit! I just want to make sure you understand what happened, and what you’re asking??”
Best cover he could’ve used, honestly.
Valerie cringed in on herself, obviously realizing something.
“Uhm, sorry, I didn’t mean to… Look, sorry. I know being in his body is probably really weird? But my place is over in Elmerton, and it’d be really helpful if one of us could… I’m sorry.”
She’d dodged the real question, but still managed to give the answer Danny needed.
In… this body…?
Oh. Oh boy.
50 notes · View notes
shintin · 2 months
Text
Gunpowder Dreams
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Chapter 10 (Plan)
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↳ Vash the Stampede x Female Reader
They didn't know a wounded man would show no mercy when they took the best thing he ever had away from him. What did they say? Don't poke the dragon if you can't take the heat; if you do, expect the flames.
Genre: explicit smut, toxic relation, romance, angst (Mafia au).
Warnings/Tags: +18, NSFW, Alternative Universe/Modern Setting, no spoilers from manga and anime, dominate Vash the Stampede, sexual situations, dub-con, graphic violence, gore, angst, toxicity, gunplay, manhandling, cunnilingus + fellatio, creampie, fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, too many smut scenes, emotional trauma, and etc.
Song Recommendation: Arctic Monkeys - Do I Wanna Know?
Note: Sorry for the delayed update. Unexpected events in life took place. I hope with this smut chapter, I can earn your forgiveness.
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Chapter Index - Next Chapter
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The darkness suffocated you; unsettling dreams bled all over your mind and prevented you from finding rest. You only had your dreams to give you peace, but now they had vanished, leaving you unsure how to get them back.
All you saw when you closed your eyes was Knives.
You kept getting cut over and over and over, with a knife in his hand, and Vash shot his brother in the leg and outside, the wind sang, but its high-pitched and off-key melody made it difficult for you to ask it to stop. The blood on your skin drained the warmth from your veins, leaving you freezing. The floor beneath you seemed to engulf you as you lay on your back. You could taste the clotted blood in your mouth, throat, and heart.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Yet another delightful adventure in the land of perpetual misfortune.
With a sigh, you turned in bed, your eyes adjusted to the darkness, and when you blinked, you realized the leather couch in front of the windows was empty, with rumpled sheets tossed aside. Despite the house having millions of rooms, he chose to sleep on the couch. You weren't sure why he kept you in his room or why he preferred the sofa over another room. You didn't seek answers or dwell on it. Having him in the room brought comfort, but he was absent right now.
Once again, a sigh came out of your lips.
Being in Vash's presence was like a rollercoaster ride. He was so used to solitude that each day spent with him brought new revelations. These discoveries weren't entirely negative; in fact, most of what you learned about him was endearing and harmless.
Just last week, you stumbled upon him in his office, listening to vintage vinyl records. While you had seen his collection of records before, stacked high alongside old books and artwork, but seeing him simply sitting and listening to the music was a new experience altogether.
He didn't even notice your presence when you walked in that day. He sat completely motionless, staring at the wall, and you later realized he was listening to a Johnny Cash record. You discovered this when you peeked into his office hours after he had already left.
Your curiosity got the best of you as you couldn't help but wonder why Vash kept resetting the needle to listen to that one particular record. You were determined to find out which song it was, and it turned out to be a tune called "You're My Sunshine."
You had yet to share with him what you had witnessed that day, as you didn't want to disturb his comfort in his own space. However, some of you wanted to unravel his past, uncover both the good and bad aspects, and lay bare all the secrets so you could be done with it because you believed your imagination posed a greater threat than any of his hidden truths.
But you were not sure how to make that happen. He wasn't exactly known for his communication skills.
The previous night, you had feigned sleep as you watched him enter the room, cautiously lighting a small lampshade to avoid waking you up. He silently took a seat at the table, unloading his firearm and arranging the golden bullets on a cloth. He leaned over and cracked open the window slightly, hoping to dissipate the scent of gunpowder, but the bold wind had other plans. It audaciously swept in and playfully tousled his golden locks, eliciting a bittersweet smile from you that carried a tinge of pain. Yes, even smiling hurt. But witnessing him find solace was a rarity; now, you were fortunate enough to experience it twice.
With a revolver clutched in his gloved hand, he diligently used a bore snake to clean the barrel. You recognized the process because, when your father still had remnants of his humanity, he had taught you how to assist him in maintaining his firearm. However, you were only a child back then, unaware that cleaning the gun meant he had likely used it to take someone's life.
Men and their guns. They all use them for destruction, and the man before you had even used it to make you—
As the old memory resurfaced, a blend of anger and shameful emotions welled up, stinging the back of your eyes. You closed your eyes tightly, unwilling to witness Vash's sinful ritual any longer.
As you glanced around the dim room, your sleep-riddled eyes scanned from the couch to the shadows cast by the furniture. The filtered sunlight seeping through the covered windows faintly illuminated the space. Amidst the shadows, a phantom-like silhouette took shape that wasn't there, with light blond hair, chilling green eyes, and a mole beneath the right eye—a vicious ghost.
Your grandmother used to say that if you dwell on the thought of the devil long enough, he will appear at your doorstep.
The floorboards made a creaking sound to your right, seemingly originating from somewhere in the bedroom. Your head swiftly turned in that direction, and you took a sudden, sharp breath. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end like a frightened dog backed into a corner. You held your breath, being cautious not to make any noise in case the sound repeated. Silence enveloped the room, an eerie stillness. Your fingers tightly gripped the duvet on your lap as your heart raced faster.
There was an intruder in the room. But how? How the fuck did Knives manage to evade the guards again?
After another creak, a distinct footstep echoed through the room. You cautiously rose from the bed, but as you stood up, a wave of dizziness nearly caused you to fall. You managed to grab onto the side of the bed, trying to steady your spinning head.
You made your way over slowly, masking the nausea coursing through your body. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, breaths coming in quick succession. With measured steps, you pressed your back against the cold wall. Despite your attempts, a trembling breath managed to escape. Your chest heaved as you took rapid, shallow breaths while the echoing footsteps reverberated from an unfamiliar location.
You stood frozen, your back melding into the wall as if you were one with it, rendering you immobile and unable to hide. However, you refused to become a victim once more. Determined, you knew you had to find a sharp object. With urgency, you sprinted towards the wooden nightstand by the bed, frantically rummaging through the drawers in search of a knife, a gun, or any means of defense.
But you suddenly stopped.
One of the drawers contained a collection of origami made from napkins, which you had previously crafted. It struck you as odd that Vash had kept these seemingly insignificant origami pieces while discarding the plates he used to bring you donuts.
With hands trembling, you shut the drawer and turned your attention elsewhere in search of a weapon. However, in your state of unease, you accidentally collided head-on with something solid.
Something human.
Male.
You heard him sharply inhale, felt his hands stabilize your body, and sensed the blood draining from your face, leaving you weak and lightheaded.
"Vash," you exclaimed, struggling to catch your breath. You went through the familiar motions, just as you always did. Your heart skipped a beat, then raced uncontrollably, your breath became shallow, and your palms grew sweaty. No matter how many times you encountered him, he consistently evoked the same response from you: a mix of fear and excitement. You couldn't quite explain why it excited you.
Something had to be amiss with you. It wasn't ordinary for fiery warmth to surge through your veins in such conditions, leaving a tingle in its wake.
He refused to release his grip on you. You could hear the rapid, forceful thumping of his heart in the quiet space between you. He remained incredibly still and tense as if he were struggling to maintain control over his own body.
Your heart was giving out. "It was you—"
"What are you searching for?" he whispered, his words strained as if he struggled to breathe. His eyes, an unusual shade of blue, captured your attention even in the darkness—they were stunning, crystal clear, and had a penetrating quality that was somewhat unsettling. His hair was thick, a lustrous hue of gold, and his physique appeared slender and unassuming, yet his grip conveyed effortless strength.
"I thought someone was in the—" you trailed off, abruptly stopping your words. Vash stood before you, clad in nothing but a towel. A TOWEL! The embarrassment swept over you, and you wished you could simply disappear, perhaps even roll under the bed to avoid the awkwardness.
The voice you heard came from him. He had just stepped out of the shower, appearing as if he had hurriedly done so because of you. Water droplets cascaded from the tips of his hair onto his shoulder blades, trickling down towards his chest and well-defined abdominal muscles.
Vash maintained a deliberately neutral expression, his voice unaffected as he assured, "He won't return to this house again."
For a brief moment, it was hard to fathom that you were still standing there, gazing at Vash, who was wearing nothing but a towel. It wasn't easy to take the situation, or even yourself, seriously.
"You kept those origamis."
There it was. A flash of anger. In and out. Vash's eyes flickered with intensity, then settled. He shifted his gaze towards the wall, remaining silent for a moment. "Yes," he murmured, his voice calm and composed.
"I didn't intend to rummage through your belongings."
He said nothing.
"I was searching for something sharp to defend myself against the person hiding in the room." The words slipped effortlessly from your mouth. What surprised you even more was the need to vocalize them, to reassure Vash that you hadn't invaded his privacy.
"I couldn't care less if you get bored and snoop around my stuff," he stated dismissively, walking past you without making eye contact. "My mother used to craft origami. They reminded me of her." His voice was chillingly cold. You observed as he opened the drawer, clutching the towel around his waist with one hand, and crushed all the origami in his wet fist. " But she's dead now, so it holds no significance anymore." With that, he returned to the bathroom and flushed them down the toilet right before your astonished eyes.
You couldn't quite understand why you felt a pang of hurt, considering those napkin origamis held no particular significance to you. However, witnessing him collect and preserve them in the drawer beside his bed stirred something tender in your heart. Unfortunately, as always, you couldn't shut up and ended up ruining the moment.
However, you were now aware. This man would go to any lengths to eliminate anything that could be perceived as a weakness.
He emerged from the bathroom and proceeded towards his walk-in closet, disregarding your gaze. You continued to watch him as he dropped his towel, exposing his bare buttocks to your view. You gulped as a hot sensation enveloped you, and your eyes shamelessly roamed from his butt cheeks to the muscles of his thighs, finally settling on his calves.
Who did sculpt this man?
 Vash had everything going for him in the looks department. He was hot as sin, with a stunning body and killer charm. You almost drool, but when he caught you stealing a glance, you hastily averted your gaze, pretending to be engrossed in the fantastic sheets.
Sheets? Seriously? Huh!
"You know, it's pretty rude to be snooping on people, love."
Embarrassment flooded your face, heating your cheeks, as you were caught in such a juvenile act. Suddenly, you felt utterly clueless about what to do with your hands. Your thoughts raced, overtaken by self-reproach. What the heck was wrong with you? The overwhelming urge to hide and disappear consumed you. You sprinted to the bathroom, securing the door with two locks. Leaning against the door, you slid down until you sat on the cool, black-tiled bathroom floor.
Stop grinning, stupid girl!
*
Another day in the never-ending circus of misery.
The gentle afternoon sunbeams lazily brushed against your cheeks, almost as if teasing you. Squinting your eyes, you peered out the window. It was chilly outside, yet the usual forecast of rain seemed absent for the day. The Gods above were like twisted demons, mocking you by making such a gloomy day appear this beautiful.
Ugh! Why—
No!
Wait a damn minute!
Vash stood in the yard, and you were aware of this because you could see him from behind the curtain. He wore a tailor-made shirt that hugged his figure, a black shade so deep that it nearly dazzled. His shoulders were embraced by a charcoal gray coat, fifty shades darker than coal, while his golden spiked hair contrasted the somber autumn surroundings. Black pants adorned his legs, accompanied by black leather gloves and matte black boots.
He appeared flawless, particularly amidst the grimness of the dirt and decay, encompassed by the dreariest hues this scenery could present. He stood as a striking figure, his eyes adorned in shades of deep blue and turquoise, casting a captivating silhouette against the backdrop of the setting sun in a stunningly beguiling manner.
He could be glowing.
That could be a halo around his head.
This could be the world's way of making an example out of irony.
Vash possessed a beauty that surpassed even your most attractive ex-partner. He was far from being human; every aspect of him was extraordinary and unconventional.
He looked around, his eyes shielded by purple round sunglasses, and a gust of wind momentarily revealed the holster strapped to his right leg as his coat flapped open. He didn't even step into his own yard without his gun. The irony!
The men surrounding him appeared to be awaiting instructions, anticipating something, and you couldn't tear your eyes away. A strange thrill coursed through you, being in such proximity yet still distant. It felt like an advantage, being able to observe him unnoticed.
He was a strange, strange, unhinged man. You weren't sure if you could ever forget what he had done to you, the way he had made you feel, and the intense desire to bring harm upon him. The urge to despise him indefinitely lingered within you, but it was gradually weakening. He had abducted you, callously exposing you to danger, and vanished while his brother subjected you to repeated torment. Yet, he also took it upon himself to mend the shattered fragments afterward, carefully gathering and reassembling them—as janky as it was. You wanted to harbor hatred towards him but found yourself at a loss as to how to do so anymore.
You had no clue about who he truly was—actually, you never had much knowledge regarding how he spent his days unless he was in your company. Even now, you remained clueless about his purpose for being there.
He eventually uttered a few words to the men, and they nodded in swift agreement before running around. You retreated entirely behind the curtains, making sure to stay hidden. You positioned yourself at an angle, ensuring he wouldn't catch sight of you even if he happened to glance in your direction.
Vash removed his glasses and ran his hand across his face, briefly covering his eyes before his hand settled on his mouth as though he held something he couldn't bring himself to say.
Suddenly, he seemed tired. His eyes appeared somewhat … sorrowful, although you were convinced you were just reading him wrong. You observed him as he observed those around him, paying close attention to notice that his gaze lingered on the red Geranium flowers, fighting to survive in the harsh weather. You attempted to decipher Vash's expression as he stared at them, but he was always careful to keep himself completely neutral. He remained like a statue in the wind, doing nothing more than blinking.
A stray dog headed straight toward him. Suddenly, fear gripped you. You felt concerned for the poor creature, a weak little animal that had mistakenly wandered into the wrong place, searching for morsels of food to stave off hunger for a few more hours.
Your heart began racing in your chest, pumping blood too quickly and forcefully. A sense of impending doom washed over you, leaving you with an unexplainable feeling that something dreadful was on the horizon.
The black dog dashed straight into the back of Vash's legs as if it had impaired vision and couldn't see its path clearly. It panted heavily, its tongue hanging to the side, seemingly unsure how to retract it. The dog whined and whimpered slightly, leaving saliva all over Vash's impeccably fine pants. You held your breath, anxiously awaiting as the golden man turned around.
You half expected he might draw his gun and shoot the dog directly in the head, having witnessed him do such a thing to a person before. However, upon seeing the dog, Vash's countenance underwent a transformation. His flawless facade fractured, revealing cracks in his otherwise perfect demeanor. Surprise elevated his eyebrows and widened his eyes if only for a fleeting moment, providing you with ample opportunity to take note of it.
He looked around, his eyes shifting as they surveyed his surroundings before he gently scooped the animal into his arms. You felt a sudden desperation to witness his next actions, and your anxiety heightened, making it difficult to catch your breath.
You had witnessed the extent of Vash's capabilities when it came to harming another person. You had observed his callous heart, his emotionless eyes, and his complete indifference. His composed and collected demeanor remained unshaken even after he took a life without hesitation. Now, you could only speculate about what he might have in store for an innocent dog.
You felt an urgent need to witness it firsthand. You had to dispel the notion of him being a good person from your mind, and this was the perfect opportunity. It would serve as evidence that he was sick, corrupted, completely in the wrong, and would forever remain so.
You had to see what he was going to do to the helpless animal when a familiar voice called out from behind you, causing you to freeze in your tracks.
"Having an absolute blast, aren't we?" Bradd remarked sarcastically. "This room conveniently provides the ideal windows for our top-notch boss surveillance operations."
You quickly turned your head, giving him a sharp glare. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and shrugged nonchalantly upon noticing your reaction. He proceeded, "I knocked on the door multiple times. However, it seems you were so absorbed in your mission that you didn't notice, and I had to come in without an invitation."
Bradd moved until he stood beside you, and his presence tightened the knot forming in your stomach. T There was an ice-cold fortress shrouded around him, as palpable as the tension in his shoulders. It felt as though he was creating a distance between you, as if you were about to be sent off to war, and he believed he would never see you again.
On certain days, you resented him for assisting the twins, but deep down, you couldn't deny the truth that he was a good man. He had become your emotional support in recent months, and you had started to understand his character. He belonged to the category of men who prioritized only their own family, and anything beyond that circle? Held no significance to him.
At the moment, you were an outsider who had disrupted their usual order, akin to a parasite, just as he had described.
You turned your head, and your eyes widened at the sight of Vash crouching on the ground, using his hands to feed something to the dog. The trembling, bony body of the animal was nestled inside Vash's open coat, seeking warmth after enduring the cold for so long. The dog wagged its tail vigorously, briefly making eye contact with Vash before diving back into the cozy refuge of his coat. You heard Vash laugh, a sound you had rarely witnessed. It was a laughter that seemed to transform him into a completely different person, the kind of laugh that put stars in his eyes and dazzled his lips.
You realized you had never seen this side of him before. You had never glimpsed his teeth, so impeccably straight and white, an embodiment of perfection.
A flawless, flawless exterior for a man with a black, black heart.
It was almost inconceivable that the person you were staring at had blood on his hands. He looked soft and vulnerable—so human. His eyes squinted from his wide grin, and his rosy cheeks bore the marks of the chilly weather. Even his dimples were visible, adding to his overall charm.
He was undeniably the most breathtaking sight you had ever encountered. And yet, you wished you had never laid eyes on him, for something within your heart was tearing apart at the seams. You struggled to comprehend the image before you, as you desperately needed him to be wicked so you could revert to hating him. However, he defied your expectations. You didn't want to see Vash like this. It felt wrong, yet in some inexplicable way, it also felt right.
You believed that the revelations had ended, but you were mistaken once again. This realization left you pondering the extent of what remained unknown and how much more you would discover about Vash in the days and months ahead.
And it scared you.
Because the more you uncovered about him, you found fewer excuses to distance yourself from him. The image you once had of him was transforming right in front of your eyes, becoming something that terrified you in ways you never could've expected. Amid so much uncertainty, all you could think was that it wasn't the right time. It wasn't the right place. Not when there were still so many problems around.
If only your emotions could grasp the significance of perfect timing.
You released a sigh, frustrated with your own indecisiveness. Although you couldn't ignore your physical attraction towards him, you struggled to let go of your initial perception of his character. It wasn't easy for you to abruptly shift your perspective and view him as anything other than a manipulative monster. You required time to adapt to the idea of accepting Vash as a normal human.
"The dog," Bradd interrupted, returning you to the present. "Nicholas used to take care of that dog, but we hadn't seen her around for quite some time until a few days ago," Bradd explained. "Seems like Angelica has taken a liking to Vash as well." Bradd glanced at you from the corner of his eye, and you found yourself perplexed, trying to comprehend why he continued to smile at you even after he averted his gaze. Flustered and feeling strangely embarrassed, you scrambled to find something to say.
"Is there anything you need from me?" you inquired, keeping your gaze fixed on Vash as he affectionately rubbed the dog's head and chuckled, trying to avoid eye contact with Bradd.
"Hm?"
You shifted your attention to Bradd. "You're here. Did you come for small talk?"
"Oh," Bradd responded, scratching the back of his neck while sporting a smile. The creases forming at the corners of his lips and eyes revealed his age. You wondered whether he had a family and if they were aware of his association with mafia freaks.
"I came to see how you're doing and to let you know that Vash wants to meet you in the living room. If you need to change, I'll wait here to accompany you. I know you've likely become familiar with the layout of this house through your very successful attempts to flee, but I still want to ensure you don't wander into the wrong rooms," he said, winking.
You bit your tongue to refrain from responding with more sarcasm than his.
*
Vash couldn't hide his surprise when he walked into the living room. As you glanced up, you finished the remaining Vodka in your glass. "Apologies for once again getting into your alcohol," you said to him, and he blinked in response.
"You're feeling better."
You nodded over your shoulder. "I was thirsty, and the drinks were there while you ran late."
"Yes," he replied, speaking slowly and cautiously.
"So I had a few shots."
"I can tell," Vash remarked, remaining stationary near the stairs, his gaze fixed upon you. He didn't utter a word but slowly advanced into the living room, removing his coat and delicately placing it over an armchair. He retrieved a gun from his holster and another from his back, deliberately positioning them on the table beside your empty vodka glass.
"I want to hurt your brother, Vash Saverem," you blurted out abruptly. It startled you to realize how much you had transformed over the past few months. You felt like an entirely different person—more audacious, hardened, and, for the first time, willing to acknowledge your anger. It was a liberating experience.
"Are you—" he shook his head, then apologized, "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
You looked up, feeling the weight of Vash's stare. He appeared captivated as if intrigued by your words. If he didn't fully grasp your meaning, you were prepared to express it differently. "I need revenge," you stated firmly, or that's what you thought.
He took a seat and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and intertwining his hands. A wide, amused grin spread across his face, radiating a genuine sincerity that struck you like thunder. Something pricked at your eyes and weakened your knees. "How do you plan to accomplish that, love?"
"I've got plans."
"Is that so?" He leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest, and couldn't help but maintain a constant smile.
"Yes," you replied, growing increasingly irritated. Vash didn't seem to be taking you seriously, likely attributing your seriousness to being drunk. While you were indeed drunk, you were also very, very serious.
Vash waited, observing your annoyed expression, and nodded once, signaling you to continue.
A familiar, intoxicating buzz settled in your stomach, amplified by the alcohol swirling within your empty belly. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, and your mouth felt parched as if you had swallowed sand. "Your brother—"
"You can't even speak his name yet talk about revenge?"
You attempted to conceal your surprise, but now you found yourself uncertain why you hesitated to utter his name. Perhaps it was because you feared that he would suddenly materialize, much like summoning a devil by speaking his name.
You slid your empty glass towards Vash, indicating that you wanted him to refill it. Vash glanced at you, and what looked like concern was clouded in his pretty eyes.
"If you want me to mention his name, hand me the bottle," you declared, snatching the vodka bottle from his grasp before taking a large gulp. The taste made your face contort, reaffirming your belief that alcohol tasted like shit when it wasn't mixed with something. You'd die on that hill. However, you did appreciate the burning sensation as it traveled down your throat, spreading warmth throughout your body.
"Knives," you said the name, taking a deep breath. Remembering the adage that fear of a name only heightens fear of the thing itself, you decided to defy that fear. So fuck him and his name! "Are you content now?"
He let out a snort. "Do you honestly believe that you can simply stroll out of this room," Vash said to you, "knock on Knives' door and shoot him in the head?"
Yes. "No."
"Liar, liar, pants on fire," Vash said softly, and you glared at him. "My brother isn't here," Vash continued. "He's gone to deal with a business complication elsewhere."
"He's not here?" you questioned.
"No," Vash responded, his smile fading. "And that's precisely why I wanted to speak with you." He picked up a larger glass from the table and poured himself a whole serving of Bourbon, likely his preferred drink. He downed the bitter liquor in a single gulp, then refilled the glass. He pressed the glass against his lips with his gaze fixed on you. "I need you to be gone until he returns," he said, closing his eyes as he swallowed the entire contents of the glass.
"What?" Your heart picked up so quickly that you thought you might be experiencing a heart attack.
"You heard what I said."
"No," you declared, shaking your head. It's often said that you can't repeat the same mistake twice; for the second time, it becomes a choice rather than a mistake. Therefore, this was your decision.
"Bradd will help you. It's up to you whether you want to return to your father's house or forge a new path for yourself. If you opt for the latter, I'm ready to offer my support—"
"I JUST TOLD YOU I WANT TO GET MY REVENGE!"
"How?" Vash scrutinized you intently. "How do you plan to reach my twin? How will you confront him?"
"I already told you I have plans!" you exclaimed, clenching your fists. "But I require your help," you whispered, filled with both fear and a glimmer of hope. You caught Vash's gaze from across the table. "What if I exploit Knives' vulnerability?" you asked, raising your eyebrow slightly.
"That seems unlikely."
"Why do you think that?" you said, feeling desperate. "Even if there's the slightest chance—"
Vash sighed and ran his hand through his hair, disheveling his perfectly spiked hair. "He doesn't have any weaknesses. If there were any, I would have discovered them long ago. You wouldn't be making such statements if you knew him like I do. Hope will only break your heart all over again."
You dug your nails into the leather that you feared it might rip. However, you resisted the urge. You were well aware of the threats you had heard and your chosen path. "I am an outsider," you found yourself saying. "Maybe I can perceive things more clearly than you—"
"Love—"
"Dammit, Vash! I have to give it a shot. You have to understand—"
"This is not good for you," he avoided eye contact. "It's dangerous for you to believe anyone could harm Knives."
You stared at his resolute and unwavering profile while he focused on his hands. "In the worst-case scenario, I might end up dead. You have nothing to lose, so why won't you allow me to pursue it?" you whispered.
He rubbed his forehead. "I have numerous conflicts to deal with in the coming days," he said, his voice tense. "I have meetings to attend and negotiations with people even worse than my family." He took a deep breath, the air feeling constricted. A weighty silence hung between you. "I understand that you are now afraid of even your own shadow," he continued, his voice filled with concern. "You struggle to sleep, and I know my presence makes you uncomfortable. However, I can't leave you alone anymore. I've lost my trust in Knives. So, I'm granting you your freedom once again. But this time, I'll ensure you truly are leaving. I'm making this decision for your well-being."
"Oh." A pause. Was he sleeping on the uncomfortable couch because he was worried about you?
"Yes," he said—another pause.
"Or," you said to him, "I remain here, and you use me for whatever plan you have involving my father—"
"I don't have any plans regarding that," Vash replied melancholic.
"Fortunately for you, I have made plans, and in exchange, you will allow me to seek revenge against your brother, I mean Knives. I am prepared to face the consequences on my own."
Vash fought a smile but couldn't hold it back. He glanced downward, letting out a small laugh, before locking eyes with you. He shook his head.
"What's so funny?"
"My lovely girl."
"What?"
"I've been waiting for this moment for quite a while now."
"What do you mean?"
"You're finally ready," he remarked. "You're finally ready to fight back."
Shock surged through you. "Of course I am," you replied. In an instant, memories of the unbearable pain and the horrifying fear of being brutally attacked flooded your mind. You hadn't forgotten any of it, but you realized that if you wanted to find peace, you needed to momentarily set aside your animosity toward Vash. Because now that you were prepared to fight, you felt a sense of empowerment like never before. You marveled at how different you felt and how different you knew things could be. You had a lot of things to do, so many scores to settle, and a big revenge to exact.
Everything had changed. The child you once were had succumbed to her foolishness. It was your turn to engage in this game on your terms, and you were not afraid of cheating.
No matter what lay ahead, there was no going back for you now. There were no other choices. "I forge forward or die."
Vash burst into laughter, his expression bordering like he might cry.
"I will cause hurt to your brother," you declared, "and I will make sure he learns not to threaten me."
He was still smiling.
"I will."
"I know," he said.
"Then why are you laughing at me?" you asked, puzzled.
"I'm not," he said softly. "I'm just wondering," he said, "if you would like my assistance."
"What? You agree with—" You blinked rapidly, unable to believe what you just heard.
"There are three things you should know about me, love," he said, leaning his elbows on his knees and interlocking his fingers. "First," he began, "I hate my brother more than you could comprehend." He cleared his throat. "Second, I am unapologetically self-centered and make decisions primarily based on my interests in nearly every situation. And third," he paused, looking down and chuckling softly, "I believe death would be a reward for despicable people like me or your father." He lifted his head. "I've always told you," Vash said, "that we would make an exceptional team. From the moment we met, I've been waiting for you to be ready to acknowledge your anger and strength. I've been waiting patiently all this time."
"That's why you wanted to use me to hurt my father?"
"Does that bother you?"
Your jaw dropped. "What? Of course, it bothers me! Wouldn't it bother you?"
"No," he said casually. "I would feel honored to have assisted."
Words eluded you. You couldn't tell if it was the influence of alcohol or a newfound courage that ignited within you, urging you to let your inner fire scorch others as well. "If that's the case," you declared, your gaze fixed on Vash's face, "then I want to bestow an honor upon you, Mr. Savrem."
He raised an eyebrow. "You want to use me?"
"Yep," you exclaimed, emphasizing the P. "We can hit two birds with one stone."
Vash took hold of his glass and reclined against the couch, looking at you as though he no longer recognized you. Good. When something is subjected to intense pressure, it becomes distorted. It forms sharp edges that can inflict deep wounds.
He lightly tapped his finger against the crystal, and the sound reverberated through the quiet living room. The crackling of the fireplace was the only other sound present.
Vash crossed one leg over the other. "Elaborate," he demanded.
"Do you—like, do you just like men?"
"Why? Are you trying to seduce me?" Vash asked in a relaxed manner, drawing your focus toward him as he sipped his Bourbon and peered at you over the rim of his glass.
His gaze was probing and studious, yet you offered no reaction. Your facial muscles remained steadfast as you replied, "That's what you desire, isn't it?"
A sly grin appeared on Vash's face, accentuated by the dim lighting and the flickering shadows, giving him a sinister look. However, you didn't even flinch in response. He no longer had the power to intimidate you. You had witnessed him kneeling before you.
"Is this a part of your grand plan?"
"Yes," you replied, contemplating how you wished you had a bigger mouth to accommodate more alcohol. It was essential to muster courage for what you were about to say.
"Nothing will hurt my dad more than seeing everyone talk about his beloved daughter fucking his enemy. And about your brother," you stated, taking a deep breath. You couldn't believe those words had come from your mouth. Your ears grew warm, but you had to press on because Vash didn't even flinch and needed him to take you seriously. "He has a vulnerability, and it's you," you continued, and he lowered his glass, tilting his head to the side as his eyebrows furrowed. Encouraged, you pressed forward, "He cut me because he believed you cared for me, and I am growing in you." You let out a mocking laugh, "So, you are his weakness. He doesn't want to share his little brother, and I want to do the exact opposite."
"You didn't tell me anything about this detail."
"There was no reason for you to be aware of it then. However, now I want you to pretend that you have succumbed to my seduction. I know you are skilled at acting, so it shouldn't pose a challenge for you," you said, taking another swig and wincing at the burning.
"I appreciate the sentiment, but I can't fuck you," he stated, finishing the remainder of his whiskey.
The words felt unpleasant on your tongue, but you forced them out anyway. "I don't want a relationship, and If you are interested in the buttholes—"
"For fuck's sake! I've been with women as well. So, let's put an end to this discussion about holes!"
"So, if you're not exclusively interested in men, what's holding you back?" you rushed out. He tilted his head, patiently waiting. "From fucking me," you stated plainly. "You didn't hold back before. What's preventing you now?"
He remained quiet for a moment. "Because I couldn't bear the guilt," he whispered, gazing at you contemplatively. "If it were to happen again, the outcome would be vastly different — you're already aware of that."
You folded your arms. "Would it, though?"
"Yes," he said firmly. "Do you think if I were to pin you against a wall, you would resist initially only to succumb to pleasure eventually? Or do you think you would fight as if your life depended on it, only to end up mentally checking out from the trauma?"
You swallowed, the truth leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.
"I will never claim to be a good, kind, or even honorable man. There is little of that left in me, and the truth is, it was never truly there to start with. I was born with a blackened soul. However, there is a distinction between those who are needlessly evil and those who do wrong in the hopes of achieving something good. I'll leave it up to you to decide which category I fall into."
You realized you didn't need to think about it at all. Trauma had a tight hold on you, but all you wanted Vash to do was hold you tighter.
You downed the remaining Vodka in a single gulp, relishing in the burn as it traveled down your throat. The clock ticked, approaching eight PM. It was the perfect timing since the household staff would soon be present to serve dinner. Why not put on a performance for them? You were confident that at least one of them would discreetly inform Knives about everything.
Adrenaline got steadily released into your bloodstream, akin to injecting heroin into a vein. Rising to your feet, you approached Vash, causing his muscles to tense up as you parted his crossed legs and settled onto his lap. Almost subconsciously, his hand swiftly grasped your waist to hold you. No matter how much he pretended otherwise, it was clear that men were all the same. Their dicks dictated their every decision.
"You'll end up getting hurt," he cautioned, his voice taking on a deeper tone as the words slipped out quietly and deliberately.
" Maybe I need another pain to wash away the one I'm experiencing now," you stated, unreservedly running your hand between your legs, provocatively stroking his crotch through his pants, all while maintaining unwavering eye contact with him.
He took a deep breath. "You're toying with fire," he croaked, shifting his gaze from your face to your hand resting on his groin.
"Then let your flames consume me, Vash," you urged, intensifying the pressure of your hand against the fabric. "Imagine the retribution we will exact upon the men who ruined us."
He tightly shut his eyes, tilting his head back as his lips parted. You reached out and touched him once more, this time with gentle tenderness. You felt his thumb caressing your side. Good.
You wished for Knives to witness this moment, wanting to prove something to the deluded man who thought he owned you. The only person with the right to claim your body was the one you granted permission to. You would allow Vash's hands to explore every inch of your skin, followed by the touch of his mouth. You would let his tongue lick your pussy until you were sated, right before he fucked you until you no longer knew your name.
You would let him because you said he could.
Vash drew you closer, pressing his body against yours and pinning your breasts against his chest. Your breath faltered as you felt the warmth surround you, his arm encircling your waist tightly, firmly locking you in place.
You liked the way he felt pressed against you. The softness of your body molded against the hard ridges of his. It felt... pleasant. Satisfying.
"We can handle this, Vash. Approach it like a business," you whispered in his ear, sensing his breath leaving him and his heart pounding against your chest.
Vash locked eyes with you briefly, and as you leaned in to kiss him, he placed his forefinger on your lips. "No need for kisses. This is not about making love. It's strictly business," he asserted.
As you were about to part your lips to speak, you were interrupted by his soft lips gliding rhythmically against your neck, reminiscent of water swaying the rocks beneath a cliff. A moan rose from your throat, and you immediately grasped the back of his neck, urging him to press his head closer to your skin.
He emitted a low, primal growl, his self-control slipping away. His other hand entwined itself in your hair, adjusting the angle of your head to gain better access. He sank his teeth into your flesh, skillfully exploring with an unrestrained fervor.
You clung to him tightly, pressing further into him. Shuddering with the feel of his hard cock digging into your stomach, his size only fueling your desire. He wasn't small, and that was precisely what you craved tonight. Something that would silence Knives' voice with pleasure, leaving you breathless and thoroughly gratified.
His tongue wrestled with your collarbones, skillfully swiping and lapping while his teeth playfully nipped at them. Another moan slipped free, bouncing in the air until he matched it with his groan.
The grip on your hair tightened, tilting your head back, allowing his lips to roam freely along the sensitive area where your neck and shoulder met.
You gasped as his teeth grazed your skin, a subtle warning before he sank them in. The sharp pleasure rolled your eyes to the back of your head, followed by a long moan.
"Fuck," he cursed, his tongue flicking against your neck as he emitted a primal groan. "That voice drives me wild."
You felt your eyelids flutter as you succumbed to the pleasure his tongue and teeth were drawing out of you. His hands ventured lower, and soon, you felt a firm tug on your jeans. The button popped open in seconds, accompanied by the low purr of your zipper being undone.
On a low growl, Vash inquired, "Is your pussy wet for me like before, love?" as he playfully nipped at your neck. It stung a little, causing you to wince in response to the slight pain. However, his tongue glided over the bite mark, soothing the sting.
"Yes," you whispered, pleasure overpowering the lingering pain. His hand smoothly slid down the front of your jeans and underwear, his fingers gradually moving lower until the tip of his middle finger teasingly dipped inside you.
A low, guttural growl arose from you as he realized how truthful you were being. "Fuck, love, that's it. If you want our plan to succeed, you need to be louder. Don't you want everyone to know we're fucking?"
Suddenly, two fingers delved inside you, skillfully curling to hit that sweet spot. Your vision blurred, and a scream of pleasure erupted from your lips, becoming your sole response. It was the only thing you could do at that moment.
With instinct, you tilted your hips, grinding against his hand. He withdrew his fingers partially before driving them back into you again. And again, until he fucked you with his fingers, leaving you with nothing to do but hold on tightly, your nails digging into his shirt.
You let out long, husky moans that emanated from your throat, obediently filling the space precisely as he had requested.
"You certainly know how to make a scene," he whispered into your ear, punctuating his words with a sharp nip. The heel of his palm pressed firmly against your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you. With his skilled fingers, he elevated your arousal, causing the orgasm to coil deep in your stomach. Then, he rubbed you just right, causing your knees to quake from the intense pleasure.
"Oh," you moaned, your breath coming in irregular, breathless gasps.
In a dark whisper, he asked, "Will you scream when you come on my hand, love?"
You thought you nodded, but you couldn't be sure, for in a matter of seconds, your head jerked backward as your climax escalated, building up to an intense peak.
"Let me hear it," he encouraged. His fingers glided out, only to plunge back in, this time with the addition of a third finger.
You bit your lip as you tumbled over the edge. A cry rushed out, the sound wavering in pitch as deep-seated pleasure engulfed you. Shamelessly, you pressed against his hand, surrendering to the relentless waves of ecstasy.
"So vindictive," he murmured, his voice tinged with satisfaction. Breathless yet possessing a heightened hunger, he took out his hand and lightly brushed it against your lower lip, spreading your arousal. "You've made quite a mess on my hand, love. It would be rude not to clean it up."
While maintaining eye contact, your tongue darted out, the tip sliding across his finger. He smiled wickedly, prompting you to open your mouth wider. Soon, you tasted your own familiar flavor, but it didn't last long as he withdrew his fingers and licked the remainder himself. You never expected such a simple and primal act to make you ache for him even more than you already did.
His hot breath tickled against your face, causing a shiver to run down your spine. As you closed your eyes, you couldn't help but bite your lip when you felt his hands slip into your shirt.
"Vash," you said in a hushed, breathless voice. His warm breath caressed your neck as he leaned in closer. Gentle lips delicately grazed the edge of your ear. Like a cascading waterfall, a torrent of chills raced down your back.
"You're such a good, obedient girl," he remarked. The aroma of smoke mingled with hints of mint and wood enveloped you. The thought of him being delicious and the desire to have him in your mouth crossed your mind.
As if reading your mind, he reached up and placed his hand on the back of your head, his fingers entwining in your hair and drawing you impossibly closer. In a moment of impulse, you did something foolish. You drew his lower lip into your mouth, savoring the taste of him and the feel of his lips against yours. Suddenly aware of your behavior, you let go of his lip, attempting to pull away.
He was like a drug, and similar to the actual substance, he led you to make idiotic decisions.
He held onto you tightly, using his hand to press your forehead against his own forcefully. "I explicitly said no kissing. Right?" His grip on your hair was firm.
You nodded in response.
In return, his tongue traced your chin, descending towards your neck once more. You let out a soft, unintentional moan, and as soon as he noticed your body's response, he nibbled on your skin. He completely consumed you, sucking and licking your body in a way you'd never experienced.
He was leaving hickeys all over your skin, and you found yourself powerless to resist him, just as you were powerless to deny the pleasure that ran through your veins. Another low growl pinged through his mouth, serving as a mere indication of his following action.
He gripped your waist and lifted you. "You're such a good fucking girl," he praised, leaning against your chest before biting your breasts through your shirt and bra. He held you against the wall, his body pressing tightly against yours.
Gasping for air, your feet touched the ground as you struggled to hold up your head, desperately inhaling precious oxygen. He firmly held your cheeks with his large hand, growling against you.
You inserted your hands between your bodies, traveling towards his muscled stomach and firm chest. With force, you roughly pushed him away.
"Wait, please stop," you gasped, feeling a haze of confusion clouding your mind. The heat of the moment had left your pussy pulsating and your senses overwhelmed.
"What did I tell you?" he demanded with a sharp tone. His piercing blue eyes locked onto yours, captivating you in a hypnotic grip. It was difficult to avert your gaze when you felt like a helpless prey entrapped by the eyes of a predator.
"What?" you whispered, still feeling lightheaded.
"You're toying with fire," he reiterated slowly, his voice rough with gravel. Your mouth opened, but the words remained trapped, unable to get out.
His lips brushed against your cheek, tracing a path along your jawline. "Think about the prying eyes behind these walls. Let's stick to your original plan and provide them with something to gossip about," he concluded, punctuating his words with a sharp nip on your earlobe. Your body reacted, arching involuntarily as sweat drops formed on your skin. " I know you want me."
"No," you denied in a whisper. "You're wrong."
He raised his head, a smug smirk gracing his lips. "So, you're going to be a bad girl tonight? Lie to my face and act like your pussy isn't aching to be filled up with my cock?"
A flush of heat spread across your cheeks, a blend of anger and embarrassment. "Not everything revolves around physical attraction," you retorted after a moment. "Maybe my body wants you, but up here," you tapped your temple, "it's a different story."
He nodded slowly, studying your face with a pensive gaze. Stepping back, he left you feeling a sense of emptiness. It was akin to a dark veil encasing the sun on a scorching summer day—a sudden, chilling coldness that seeped into your bones.
He seized your hand and yanked you away from the wall. He twirled you around until you stood in front of one of the mirrors next to the fireplace. You watched him from the reflection as he pressed his body against yours, his warmth soaking into your very being. Your gaze fixated on the mirror, your eyes meeting and colliding through the glass.
He lowered himself gradually, bringing his mouth close to your ear, never breaking eye contact. "If you've had a change of heart, I won't push you into anything and will stop right now," he whispered in your ear, eliciting sparks throughout your nerve endings. His voice carried ominous promises and dangerous new beginnings.
You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. The word "No" teetered on the edge of your tongue, like a delicate ballerina dancing precariously at the tip, dangerously close to falling off and breaking her ankle. Because if you said no to this man, you'd spend the rest of your night—week—possibly longer, regretting it.
As he desired, a sense of recklessness and impulsiveness descended upon you. All you yearned for was to surrender yourself to him. You were dying to deny him, yet you had to fight your body from turning and pulling him into you.
Perhaps, just this once, to piss off Knives, you considered giving in.
You rolled your lip between your teeth, and he watched you closely, studying every gesture as if trying to interpret a cryptic language concealed within the contours of your body.
"So you think it'll work?" you inquired, your voice husky and uneven. His mouth remained close to your ear while his gaze remained fixed on yours.
He nodded slowly, his expression serious and his gaze penetrating. "Yes, love," he whispered. You closed your eyes, resignation taking over your body. You couldn't deny the truth to yourself anymore. Even if he doubted the plan's success, you still wanted him to have you tonight.
Noticing the shift, he trailed his hand over your stomach. You stiffened under his touch, feeling goosebumps rising on your skin. His fingers gripped your shirt, gradually lifting it up, parting the material at a painful pace.
"Does it hurt you when I touch your scars?"
Your eyes widened. The man, bearing his own soul's fractures, would never perceive your scars as repulsive.
"Just get it over with," you snapped, frustration emanating from his intentionally slow progression.
A malicious grin appeared on his lips, and even the mirror couldn't diminish the cruelty behind it. "Poor little thing," he jeered. "You miss having a man inside you? Were your fingers not enough to satisfy you? Have you fantasized about me while touching yourself?"
With just a glance, he possessed an uncanny ability to steal the air from your lungs. When his words accompanied that piercing gaze, it felt like you had no lungs at all.
Your shirt fell to the ground.
"What if your men come in?" you whispered, your voice barely breaking through the palpable tension in the air.
He grinned—a mischievous smile that conveyed his indifference if someone did. "What do you think they'd do?" he asked, his fingertips lightly brushing against your scars.
Goosebumps emerged, a tangible reaction from the electricity dancing across your skin wherever his touch landed.
"Do you think they'd watch?" he asked. "Do you think they would relish the sight of your naked body? Maybe they would get off on witnessing your dripping pussy or the rise and fall of your chest as you climax. I even think they would delight in watching your eyes roll back when my cock fills you so fully you can't fit any more of me inside you."
A shot of fear jolted through your heart, forcing the muscle into overdrive. Yet, despite this, your body still reacted more illicitly. Just like his words, you felt a renewed throbbing between your legs.
Would you be comfortable with a stranger observing? You doubted it. But there was something about the way he described the scenario that made you wonder if he would allow it to occur regardless.
"Are you comfortable with others seeing us undressed?" you challenged, breathless while staring at your shirt on the wooden floor.
Vash's fingers traced along your spine, moving slowly and purposefully. Their touch felt scorching, like searing lava against your flesh.
"No," he murmured into your ear. You observed him as his gaze descended, fixating on your chest. The band of your bra tightened, pressing uncomfortably against your skin before loosening. The black cups that held your breasts released, leaving you fully exposed. Your nipples were painfully erect.
When he caught sight of your hardened peaks, his tongue drifted across his lower lip as if he was salivating at the sight. "Do you want to know what I would do?" he questioned. "I would allow them to watch. I would let them watch me fuck you. They would watch as my cock fills every one of your holes and watch you cry with intense orgasms. And then, I'd fucking kill them. With my cock still wet from your cum, I would slice their throats for daring to lay their eyes upon us."
The fear within you constricted, forming a sharp tip that seemed capable of bursting the fragile balloon of sanity you clung to.
"You're insane," you gasped.
This time, he chuckled, his deep laughter sending a shiver straight to the apex of your thighs. "You were aware of this, and yet you asked for it," he murmured absentmindedly.
His focus pulled away, and his hands explored your stomach, delicately tracing the lines of your scars as if he found them captivating. Eventually, he cupped your breasts, his large hands making them appear smaller, barely contained within his grasp. He was a monster. Inside and out. Yet, despite all logic, you couldn't ignore the fact that other than your panties, your jeans had become wholly soaked, too. It seemed impossible for the body to experience both hatred and desire simultaneously.
He forcefully squeezed your breasts, causing you to scream out of pain.
"Be a good girl and scream louder," he ordered before relinquishing his hold on your breasts and moving his hands towards your jeans. You were swamped by confusion and a sense of dread. You knew this was all so terribly wrong. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to stop him as he hooked his thumbs on either side, pulling your jeans down. First, he assisted you in removing your shoes and effortlessly slipped the jeans off, setting you completely free.
You remained clad only in your wet black panties. Swallowing hard, your heart raced as you surveyed your reflection. Vash, on the other hand, remained fully clothed, his eyes examining every angle of your undressed form. He looked as if he couldn't decide, unsure where to begin.
You resisted the impulse to cover yourself. The act of hiding felt more humiliating than standing nearly bare before an attractive man.
"You need to undress as well," you insisted. There was no way you were going to be the only one left vulnerable and exposed.
Finally, he came out from behind you and stood directly before you. It felt more real when you were not looking at them through a glass mirror. Yet, you couldn't pretend that your pussy wasn't weeping for him and that you were not anticipating the feel of him inside of you. You weren't a victim this time, as you were the mastermind behind this ill-advised situation.
"If you want that, love, then you'll have to be the one to do it," he declared with a raised voice. He regarded you skeptically as if he doubted your willingness to undress him. And there was no doubt in your mind he understood the effect that look had on you. The jerk was well aware of your inability to resist a challenge.
You reciprocated the same level of respect he had shown you. Slowly and delicately, you undressed him, purposefully grazing your fingers against his skin, earning your own shivers and growls of impatience.
You took off his shirt and stared at his scarred and rugged skin. His scars still caused him pain, evident by his reaction when your fingertips brushed over them, causing him to tense and bare his teeth. It wasn't physical pain; these scars had already healed. Yet, they resembled icebergs—seemingly formidable and commanding on the outside, yet concealing something far more significant and menacing beneath the surface. They had the power to sink someone to the depths of their darkest desires, much like the Titanic. These scars wounded him deeply within, and you were genuinely curious about the stories behind each one.
In the areas without scars, there were tattoos. The most notable tattoo was a giant maze extending from his neck to his right arm. You didn't know, but he had a few small tattoos here and there, too.
"You didn't cover any of your scars with tattoos," you quietly observed, running your finger along the maze lines. The tattoos intentionally avoided the raised skin, as if deliberately respecting the scars.
"I don't hide from my failures," he asserted. However, his physical beauty extended beyond his failures. His body was filled with well-defined muscles, strong without being too bulky. His physique made it clear that he could kill you with his pinky without looking like he took steroids for breakfast. And if that alone didn't turn your knees to jelly, the thick veins roping from his neck, down his robust arms, and into his large hands were enough to unravel you.
He was… fucking phenomenal.
He observed you with great care, his eyes burning with intensity as you examined him. He was nearly vibrating beneath your slow perusal, so you moved on and resumed your torture. It took a total of zero seconds before he was bristling with the need to fuck you. You felt so much power in your fingertips, and you couldn't help but wonder how much more powerful you would be if he had a feeling for you.
With every inch of his skin revealed, you grew shakier and wetter. It seemed unjust for someone to possess such flawless allure despite the visible imperfections and scars. If anything, the evident signs of the hardships his body had endured only made him that much more edible.
You choked on air as you lowered his pants, his hard cock jutting out from the confines of his pants. So this was what accepting death via dick looked like.
Once he was completely undressed, you took a big step back and examined the reflection in the mirror. Your gaze fixated on his muscular thighs, firm and shapely buttocks, and sculpted back that had enticed you since that doomed morning. You couldn't help but fantasize about running your hands all over them. And then there was the most gorgeous cock you'd ever seen.
You wanted to run away. Far, far away. To put as much distance as possible between yourself and this man. It was clear to you that he would bring about your downfall after tonight. You could taste it on your tongue.
"Are you scared?" he asked in a low, dark voice. His gaze bore into you, his expression inscrutable.
"Yes," you responded honestly. His smile, almost breathtaking, nearly weakened your resolve. It felt unnatural how strikingly beautiful he was. Without a doubt, he was the embodiment of darkness. Now, more than ever, you were convinced he was the fucking devil.
"You ought to be," he warned, his voice tinged with menace. Without thinking, you took another step backward, but he made no move to impede your retreat.
"Get on your knees, love," he commanded in a sinister tone. You hesitated, uncertain whether to obey or search for the common sense you seemed to have misplaced somewhere along the way into this living room and make a swift escape.
"Don't test me," he growled, his face dropping into a stern expression. Lowering his jaw, he glared down at you with an intimidating gaze. The threat in his face frightened you, causing your juices to dampen your thighs.
You dropped to your knees with a jolt, the impact causing pain. It was exactly what you both desired. He tilted your head back forcefully, making you gaze up at him. His cock brushed against your cheek, serving as a forewarning of what lay ahead.
"You enjoy being a naughty girl, don't you? You like the thrill of testing me because you get off on the fear I instill in you. You're a silly little girl toying with danger," he taunted, his face contorted into a cruel snarl. Tears welled up in your eyes as he held your head firmly, burning just like the inferno of ire and lust in his eyes.
"Tell me, love, have you ever been fucked by a man like me?"
"Better," you hissed, feeling the dormant resentment towards him resurface. Something very dark and dangerous shuttered over his eyes. He raised an eyebrow, and instantly, you recoiled inward. It was a lie. You both knew it.
Good girls don't lie. That was the first thing you learned when you were put in a religious school as a child. The second lesson was not to trust the devil and his influence. However, they forgot to mention the crucial advice of not provoking him once you had fallen under his sway. Perhaps that was considered basic common fucking sense.
Your lip quivered as you scolded yourself for your foolishness. Feelings of bitterness and mistrust simmered just below the surface. You couldn't fathom why you entertained the idea of allowing Vash to dominate and have his way with you without putting up a fight.
"Open your fucking mouth, bad girl. Right now, or I'll make you gag on my cock," he demanded, his voice dripping with threat.
This time, you obeyed. The moment your lips separated, Vash forcefully thrust the tip into your mouth, pushing it deep down your throat. He hissed through his teeth, accompanied by another feral growl.
You whimpered and then gagged as he pushed his dick deeper. It felt like rigid steel wrapped in smooth fabric, but the sleekness did little to alleviate the pain. He was too thick and too long for your mouth.
Tears instantly flooded your eyes and streamed down your cheeks as he continued to penetrate you forcefully. As a reflex, you grasped onto his sturdy thighs, attempting to create some distance. However, he swiftly seized both of your hands, clasping them together in one of his while maintaining his grip on your head with the other. He held your bound hands high against his abdomen, giving the appearance of a woman kneeling in prayer, worshipping the very embodiment of evil.
"Suck it. Now," he growled.
You complied with his command, hoping he'd ease up. You sucked hard, creating a hollow in your cheeks while running your tongue smoothly over the prominent vein on the underside of his length.
"That's it, love," he exhaled, granting you a momentary respite. However, within seconds, he pulled you back towards him, taking control of your movements as he guided your head back and forth while you continued to suck him with your mouth.
He murmured words of encouragement and let out deep, pleasure-filled groans as he became increasingly assertive. Every syllable and moan that left his lips fueled your growing desperation to satisfy him.
"Let's see. Your high school sweetheart, Eren Yeager, he was better than me, huh?"
Your eyes widened in confusion, unsure of how Vash knew him and fearing this conversation's direction. "I highly doubt he was better than me. Who else?" he emphasized the last word by thrusting deeper into your throat, causing you to choke. After a few seconds of struggling, he relented. "Satoru Gojo, Cloud Strife, that boy Zuko..." he continued, listing off every man you had gone on a date with. Admittedly, the number wasn't significant, but it felt a lot considering the peril in which you had just placed their lives. He abruptly jerked your head back, granting you a brief moment to catch your breath as he uttered, "I will enjoy killing each and every one of them, love."
Before you could even form a response or take another gasp of air, he resumed choking you with his cock. Your vision began to blur at the edges as he thrust deeply into your throat. No matter how much you gagged and fought against him, he only became harder and more aroused.
"What if I cum in your mouth, and you swallow it to make your father proud?"
For a brief moment, you glared up at him, your hatred burning brighter than any trace of desire. He smiled, or rather revealed his teeth, as he noticed the anger reflected in your eyes.
"You want it, but you won't damn well receive it. You haven't earned that privilege just yet."
Without any warning, he forcefully yanked your head back, his cock popping free. He gripped your chin firmly, raising you until you were on your tiptoes.
"Vash, please," you whimpered, your vision hazy from tears and your chest constricted from the lack of air. Uncertain of what you were pleading for, whether it was your own life or the lives of the innocent men you had unknowingly condemned to death.
"That's such a good girl," he praised. "I love it when you're scared and begging."
Just as you believed you could finally inhale, he swiftly stole your breath again. His lips closed tightly against yours in a captivating kiss, electrifying your senses. Your nails dug into his chest, provoking a deep growl from him as he dominated your mouth with his own. He claimed he wouldn't kiss you, but the energy between you crackled and exploded, causing both of you to drink from each other fervently. The kiss ignited sparks of fire and filled your tongue with the mingling flavor of bitter whisky.
Poison had never tasted so good.
As your tongues battled for control, he firmly grasped your waist and yanked you upwards. Your legs naturally wrapped around his trim waist just as you felt the cool glass pressed against your back. The mirror's chill threatened to send shivers curling for epilogue through your body, but the heat radiating from his body against yours was scorching hot.
A sudden, piercing bite of pain on either side of your hips caused you to gasp into his mouth. With a quick, forceful pull, he tore your panties away from your body, leaving the shredded fabric caught somewhere between your bodies.
He withdrew and positioned the head of his cock at the entrance. "Spread your pussy for me, love," he commanded.
"No!" you shouted. "There's absolutely no way I'll let you fuck me without a condom!"
"Why bother? You already have an IUD, so clearly, my spawns won't have any chance of impregnating you," he retorted, his tone laced with heavy sarcasm.
"How the hell do you know that?" you exclaimed, swiftly hitting his chest.
"Milly."
So the nurse examined you, checking if Knives had raped you or not.
"I don't want your STDs!" you spat out angrily.
"Who the fuck do you think I am?" Vash demanded, his eyes ablaze with anger.
"A manwhore!" you said.
He pushed you closer to the mirror while glancing between you and his reflection. "I haven't been with anymore since Nick!"
"Oh, C'mon! You fucked a girl on your birthday!"
"I didn't," he said, then relaxed his hold, letting you free.
"But Bradd—"
"I helped that abused waitress to run away," he said quietly.
You tried to speak up and ask him to just fuck you, but the anger on his face silenced you. Just as he was about to move away, you halted him and obeyed his instructions.
You spread your legs and, grabbing his cock, guided it into your entrance. It was belittling when he knew you weren't supposed to want it. And as a consequence of offending him, he was going to make you show him how much you wanted him. By spreading your pussy and inviting him in.
Gods, you hated him.
His hands tightened on your hips painfully. You knew that you would wake up tomorrow with bruises shaped like handprints, and a part of you dreaded that. The imprints left on your skin would make it impossible to forget what happened.
"Do not ever label me as a manwhore," he warned just before he forcefully brought you down onto his awaiting dick.
"Ah!" you cried out, your hands poised to push him away from your chest. He was too much, stretching you wider than you'd ever been. Your eyes rounded into giant saucers as you whimpered in response to the extreme pressure.
You sensed his grith slipping through your fingers as he worked himself deeper. "Stop! It's too big," you gasped.
"Well, tough luck for you," he cooed mockingly, his tone husky and tight. "This is the consequence of being a naughty girl, isn't it?"
When you remained silent, he forcefully pulled you down on his dick harder, causing you to let out another pained whimper.
"Answer me," he barked.
"Yes!" you exclaimed, breathless, as you tightly shut your eyes in response to the invasion.
"Will you behave now?"
"Yes," you mewled desperately. The pain was morphing into something much more intense and breathtaking.
He slid out and then eased back in with a gentler but still angry motion. It felt as if your body was on the verge of exploding. This wasn't natural to be so goddamn full.
He withdrew until only the tip remained, and then he slammed his entire length inside of you. It went so deep that you felt it all the way up to your throat.
You cried out, your voice cracking under the swell of emotions welling up in your chest. It didn't feel right at all.
"Damn, love, I can barely fucking fit."
Perhaps that's why it felt as if he was ripping you apart. He began with deliberate and powerful movements, forcefully thrusting before pulling out at a painfully slow pace, only to slam back inside you once more.
You felt your body starting to yield, eagerly taking him in as he ravished you with each thrust. He widened his stance, using the mirror for support, causing your stomach to tighten in anticipation of the damage he was about to exert on your organs.
Shockwaves scattered throughout your nerve endings as he quickened his pace, roughly fucking you against the mirror while loud noises you never made in your life fell from your lips.
The pleasure was blinding, and the sight of him moving in and out between your fingers heightened the strong desire stirring in the pit of your stomach.
He let you down, swiftly turned you around, and wasted no time before thrusting back inside you. You closed your eyes and pressed your palms against the mirror to find stability.
"Look at us in the mirror," he demanded roughly. It required significant effort, but you pried your eyes open and let them wander over the mirror. It was too much— watching him drive himself inside you so deeply.
Your eyes were partially closed, and your face displayed undeniable bliss. Then, you caught a glimpse of him in the mirror, and your gazes met. A torrent of emotions washed over you, causing your heart to sink, and you quickly averted your eyes. It was the most euphoric experience you ever had.
Your eyes met his again, and a sly smile spread across his face. He leaned in, his lips gently skating across the crook of your neck as he watched you slowly come apart at the seams, all the while maintaining a mischievous grin.
"Now, confess, have you ever been fucked by a man like me?"
You nibbled on your lip and shook your head, resisting the temptation to roll your eyes in sheer exasperation.
He abruptly halted, causing an involuntary, embarrassing scream to leave your lips. He pushed your back down to readjust your positions, and the moment he hit that particular spot, your legs trembled uncontrollably.
"Oh my God," you moaned, unable to prevent your eyes from rolling back this time.
"That's right, love. I am your fucking God," he growled, and then you felt his teeth sinking into your neck.
Your stomach tightened as an orgasm built rapidly, threatening to overpower you. It felt as if a furious Poseidon resided within, conjuring a destructive tsunami that seemed poised to engulf you.
The mirror began to shudder from the force of his intense thrusts violently. It seemed as if it could shatter at any moment, yet you were unable to bring myself to care. Just as you were on the brink of reaching climax, he pulled completely out.
You whimpered, feeling the sudden emptiness almost as if it were painful. "What—"
He took a step back and gestured towards the floor. Your knees wobbled, your balance disrupted by the sharp pleasure throbbing between your thighs. "Get on your hands and knees," he instructed.
You didn't protest, primarily because the absence of the orgasm was distressing, and your legs could barely bear your weight any longer. Frustration welled up, evident in the tearful corners of your eyes, but you suppressed your snarky remark. You knew that he would only escalate your punishment further.
You expected him to enter you once more from behind, but instead, he swiftly slid his hands between your legs and gripped you from underneath your hips. He lifted you, causing your knees to lose contact with the ground, and you had to quickly catch yourself to prevent from falling face-first.
You felt his warm breath fanned across your pussy just moments before his teeth latched onto your sensitive clit. You yelped as pain and pleasure mingled. However, he wasted no time in lavishing attention on your throbbing bundle of nerves, skillfully using his mouth to suck while lapping at your dripping cunt.
He hummed, sending delightful vibrations resonating through your core. "You taste so fucking good," he murmured before teasingly flicking his tongue against your sensitive clit. You gazed up shamelessly, observing him feast on you from behind. You adjusted your head to obtain the best view of him on his knees, hungrily devouring your pussy as if he were famished.
The impending orgasm resurfaced, now even more imminent than before. You were unable to grind back into Vash's face like you desired, leaving you utterly defenseless against the relentless assault of his tongue.
"Vash, please," you begged, your eyes crying with pleasure.
"Do you want to come?" he asked; his voice was breathless and unsteady.
"Yes," you pleaded with a groan.
Vash pulled away, and in frustration, you screamed, pounding your fist against the floor. Overwhelmed by fury from being denied for the second time, you struggled against his grip, thrashing in defiance. He chuckled at your futile attempt.
"You motherfucking ass—"
He abruptly halted your outburst by seating himself inside you, causing his balls to smack against the sensitive nub. You choked on your words, this angle allowing him in far deeper than before. He seized your hair, forcefully pulling your head back, making you look directly into the mirror in front of you. From this angle, you could witness him vigorously fuck you.
"You want to cream all over my cock, love?"
You nodded your head frantically.
He responded with a smile. "Have you been a good girl?"
Once again, you nodded unsteadily.
"Then fucking say it," he urged, calling out your name.
As his gravelly voice pronounced your full name, you instinctively clenched around his cock.
"I'm a good girl," you breathed, too far gone to feel anything but blinding lust. He molded his body against your back, spearing through your tightening pussy. The hand in your hair slid down to wrap around your throat, exerting a firm grip, while his other hand splayed across your stomach. Your vision became hazy, and finally, the tsunami of orgasm crashed through you.
You emitted an ear-piercing scream that nearly rattled the mirror. Vash's name spilled from your lips in a frenzied chant as your entire world exploded into myriad fragments.
"Fuck! That's it, love. Your pussy is incredibly tight. Milk my cock," Vash managed to say through gritted teeth. He concluded with a growl, his hips trembling as he slammed into you for one last time, filling you with his cum until there was no room left inside of you. Your combined fluids trickled down your thighs as you lay on the floor, panting and breathless. Your body convulsed with aftershocks, even after the biggest orgasm you had ever experienced subsided.
You couldn't fucking breathe, let alone move or form coherent thoughts. None of it felt normal. Not a single bit.
Your breath hitched, and your teeth clenched from the feel of him sliding out of you.
Disregarding Vash's presence, you hurriedly scrambled to dress yourself.
As you approached your shoes, a muttered "shit" caught your attention from behind. Turning around, you found Vash staring at his phone, his face etched with a serious expression. He was dressed in nothing but his black boots and loosely fastened pants, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the well-defined V disappearing beneath the fabric. The glow from his phone emphasized the muscles flexing against his smooth skin, with scars and intricate black tattoos only enhancing his raw allure. The veins coursing through his hands and arms were visibly bulging, and if you weren't already leaning against the mirror, his overwhelming presence would have caused you to collapse. That masterpiece of jagged scars and rugged edges had ravished you completely, leaving you breathless.
You closed your eyes and leaned against the glass, seeking respite. Suddenly, you felt the warmth of Vash's hand on the back of your neck, causing your eyes to snap open. You realized he was pulling you closer, resting your head against his chest and draping his shirt over your shoulders. Assuming that this would be the last time you permitted his touch, you allowed him to slip his hands beneath your knees and neck, hoisting you effortlessly into his arms.
Exhaustion had enveloped you so entirely that his words, "Let's bring you to our room," evaded your weary ears.
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Taglist: @julk4e - @lune010 - @beanibon - @emptybrain01 - @changingchances @awkwardchick87 @enchantedforest-network
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shina913 · 1 year
Text
Stalemate, Part 1 | MYG
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Stalemate (Mini-series)
Definition:  (1) Chess. a position of the pieces in which a player cannot move any piece except the king and cannot move the king without putting it in check. (2) any position or situation in which no action can be taken or progress made; deadlock
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Pairing: Woodworker!Yoongi x Fem!Reader
Rating: M 🔞; NSFW
Genre: breakup!AU; toxic relationships; angst; fluff; smut; heavy drama
Summary: "The truth is, I'm not afraid to take that gamble anymore...in the off-chance that I get lucky again and feel the way I felt when I was with you. I'd happily make that bet over and over."
Word count: 8.9K+ words
Warnings (more written in individual chapters): problematic exes; relationship insecurities; alcohol consumption; cussing; miscommunication; past infidelity (reader had an affair with a married man but not detailed); vulnerable confessions; protected sex; oral sex (F-receiving); breast/nipple play; dirty talk; jealousy; multiple orgasms; verbal confrontation; a terrible joke about wood 😑
A/N: Phew! What a way to break my month-long writing drought/limbo...jumping from one unfinished WIP to another. As I mentioned on the series masterlist, this is a nonlinear story so you'll see multiple time jumps. I tried to map out the timeline using "Now" and "Then" headings so I hope that helps!
I was also going to straight-shot this but Part 2 is still missing a couple of scenes so I hope to post that in the next day or two. Until then, here's some smangsty-angst!
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Now…
Yoongi pushes the button of his key fob to lock his car then walks across the street toward an alleyway. Over a decade ago, this area, at this time of night was always questionable at best. But the neighborhood was changing and old warehouses like these were being converted into some tech start-up office, a pop-up restaurant, or sometimes, the occasional modern art gallery.
“Yoongi!”
His friend, Namjoon’s voice boomed through the loud chatter and house music. He rushes to greet him by the entrance with a hug.
“Hey, glad you could come out tonight!”
Yoongi scans the surroundings and nods in approval. He gasps, “Wow–this looks great, Joon!”
“Thanks, man. Do you like how we styled all of the light fixtures?”
Both men look up at the ceiling and marvel at the decor. “I think I might run out of adjectives tonight,” Yoongi laughs. “I love what you did with them. They look awesome!”
“Great to be friends with the supplier, huh?” Namjoon grinned, elbowing Yoongi playfully.
“Yeah, yeah,” Yoongi answers wryly. “Only for you, Namjoonah.”
“Listen, I’d love to hang out and chat but there’s a lot of people here tonight. Lots of people to rub shoulders with, you know?”
“Aish, go ahead, man–it’s your night. I’ll be fine,” Yoongi smiles.
“Alright well, there’s an open bar set up in the patio and we’ve got people walking around with finger-foods. Just help yourself and have fun, yeah?”
After Namjoon walks away, Yoongi starts to walk deeper into the building and sees doors leading to an outdoor area to where a makeshift bar is set up. While he waits for the bartender to bring him his drink, he turns around to admire his friend’s place once more.
It had been a while since Yoongi had gone out on a weekend–by choice. He mostly preferred to stay in and be a recluse or occupy his time by working.
“Sir, your drink?”
Yoongi turns back toward the bar to take his beer. “Thanks,” he nods at the bartender, then drops a dollar in the tip jar.
As he starts to turn and walk away, he pauses while his vision lands on one corner, next to one of the multiple mobile sculptures installed in the space.
He watched from a distance as you carefully gazed at the exhibit, trying to find some deeper meaning or metaphor that it was trying to convey. Once you were ready to move onto another section of the gallery, your breath catches–and your eyes lock.
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Then...
“Dude, where the hell are you? I’ve been waiting for over an hour,” Yoongi grumbled while he stood in a quiet corner to make a call. He’d been at the bar waiting for his friend, Namjoon to show up. It’s been a stressful week for him at work and he wanted to unwind and have a few drinks.
“Sorry, Yoongi. I sort of…ran into someone and now we’re talking about heading to her place–”
“Her?” Yoongi repeated, “Wha–you already hooked up with some chick?”
“I mean, I don’t know how it will turn out yet, Yoongi,” he chuckled on the other line. “We’re just talking. But if you want, I can still meet you? It’s just going to take me a little while,” Namjoon sputtered.
Yoongi groaned, knowing full well that once Namjoon had been roped in, it would be like trying to pull him out of quicksand. “You know what bro–just…don’t worry about it,” he concedes.
“A-are you sure? I could still–”
“It’s cool, Namjoonie. We’ll link up next time. Have a good night.” He signs off as sincerely as possible before hanging up.
Yoongi huffed, downed the rest of his beer then trudged back over to the bar. He motions to the bartender, who moved closer so he could place another drink order.
“Can I get a scotch, three fingers, no ice?”
******
It’s nearly 10:30 at night and you and your friend, Hyejin were still feeling the club’s vibe. It was a long weekend and you were intent on making a casual hookup or two.
“Anyway…we decided that things weren’t working out,” Hyejin shrugs. “We’re good though.”
You eyed her suspiciously. “Oh sure,” you say sarcastically, “Is that why you’re still fucking him?”
She giggled, clearly not planning on denying it. “I mean, he’s a nice guy and we started out as fuck-buddies…” she trailed off.
You rolled your eyes. “You need to start setting better boundaries, girl,” you say before taking a sip of your drink.
She shrugged, “I’m just living life. You should try it sometime!”
After you snort at her comment, she nudges your arm, bobbing her head toward the bar’s direction. “He looks yummy,” she remarks. You turn your head and made a quick assessment of the lonely patron she was gesturing at.
To your surprise, he turns his head in your direction. You met his gaze for a brief moment before he hastily turned away.
“He’s hot but a little too broody-looking,” you say dismissively even though you felt a flutter in the pit of your belly.
“So? You know what they say about those quiet, broody types…” Hyejin leans into your ear and whispers, “They’re freaks in the sheets!”
Your eyebrows knitted comically at her. “Who the hell said that?”
She clicked her teeth. “Me, duh!” She threw her head back in laughter, the music drowning out her drunken cackles. “Go get him–or I will,” she threatens.
Just then, he glances in your direction once more. But he’s unnerved by you and Hyejin staring straight at him so he turns away and looks down at his phone screen instead.
“I think he looked at me,” Hyejin said.
“Shut up, he looked at me!”
“You said he was too broody–”
“That didn’t mean that I was disinterested,” you cocked a warning eyebrow at her..
She laughed. “Well, what are you waiting for?” She dared.
You started to back away from her and grinned. “Slow your roll, babe…I’m going!”
You turned away from her and walked up to your target, his shoulders hunched over while he scrolled through his phone and alternately took a sip of his drink.
You ordered yourself a cocktail even though you technically already had one that you conveniently left behind where you previously stood.
You parked yourself on the seat next to him, pretending to scroll through your own phone while you gather up the courage. You see him from your peripheral view sneaking more glances at you.
When the bartender brings you your drink, the hottie to your left speaks out.
“Put her drink on my tab.”
The bartender’s eyebrow quirked. He looked at you then back at him. He gave him a small smile, nodded in acknowledgment, and walked away. You took it as your cue to finally start a conversation.
“Thanks, that’s nice of you,” you said, swiveling your seat in his direction, crossing your leg over the other.
“You’re welcome.”
The bartender serves your drink. As you pick it up, you raised your glass toward him. “Geonbae.”
“Geonbae,” he says as he raised his glass to tap it against yours. 
After you both take a sip, you ask him straight away, “Are you here with anybody?” You were not wasting any more precious time.
“Well, I was waiting for a friend but he ditched me so I’m on my own tonight.”
“Oh no,” you feigned regret. “I hope you don’t mind if I keep you company for a bit? It’s the least I can do to thank you for this drink.”
Your boldness made him smile. “I’m Yoongi.”
“Nice to meet you, Yoongi. I’m YN.” He reached out for a handshake but you gave him a hug instead. It takes him by surprise but it’s a welcome one.
******
“So, you build furniture?”
“Yep. I design them and I build them,” he explains while you scroll through his company’s social media page.
“By yourself?”
He laughed. “Sometimes, if I can’t find reliable help,” he remarks, his laugh growing louder. “I mean, I do the designs by myself but I usually have a team who helps me with the production and assembly. I have my own workshop.”
“Wow,” you marveled and continued to scroll through his feed. “Your work is really good–and unique!”
“Thank you. I work with a lot of local suppliers–small businesses as well, like mine. It’s a great community,” he explains. “And by the way, your work looks great, too,” he says while he scrolls through your own social media feed.
“Oh, gosh–most of my moodboards are from random Pinterest concepts,” you respond.
“Ehh…I think you’re being too modest.” He zeroes in on a recent contract–one that you were really proud of. It was for a local restaurant chain that used to have a bland color palette and aesthetic until they hired you to liven it up for their first location expansion. Three locations later, they’ve been one of your most lucrative clients.
“You have a great eye,” he says before handing your phone back to you. You smile at his compliment while you return his phone.
“If you think my work is good, we should get together sometime.”
His eyebrow quirks at your remark, but he holds back his response thinking you might have misspoken. You smile at him and after taking a sip of your drink you say, “You know, I’m always looking into connecting with new vendors to partner with.”
He chuckled. “You think we can be partners?”
“Why not? I see a lot of potential for us. I work in design and you are a potential supplier...what’s the worst that can happen?”
He narrowed his eyes at you. “Our visions might not line up,” he responds with a hint of doubt.
You shrug. “Ever heard of compromising?”
He chuckled softly. “My work tends to come off too old-fashioned to some. It takes a different kind of audience.”
“So? Sometimes all it takes is a dash of old-fashioned,” you smile, raising your glass containing the same drink.
“Really?”
You lift a shoulder. “You need a little bitterness to balance the sweetness out.” You giggle at the cheesiness of that line.
“Point taken,” he says with a gummy smile, holding back his laughter.
******
The last thing you remember was Yoongi asking if you wanted to go to his place or yours–before everything went dark.
Your eyes flicker up to the ceiling. 
As you adjust to the brightness of the room, you instinctively reach over by the nightstand to retrieve your phone to check for the time. It was a quarter past 8AM…and you were home…alone, as it seems when your head whips around to see the other side empty.
What happened?
You slowly pad your way into your living room. Maybe he was just trying to be polite and crashed on the couch.
Except, he wasn’t.
Did he just drop you off and leave? You clutch at your throbbing forehead. I’m getting too old for this shit, you thought to yourself. Still, you were worried about what happened to Yoongi.
You pull his number from your phone–at least, you think that you have his number.
“Aha,” you gasped when you find his name in your contacts list.
You realized it might still be too early but you thought you could just give him a call and leave him a voicemail just to make sure that he got home safely.
You open up your blinds to let get some more daylight in the room. By some twisted way, you found that it helped with your hangover.
While the other line trills, something catches your eye when you look out the window.
“Oh shit–” you say under your breath.
******
You approach his car and unsure whether to knock or let him be. He looked exhausted but you couldn’t just leave him out here.
You tapped your knuckles against the window and he immediately flinched.  He looks around, seemingly surprised at his surroundings until his eyes land on you.
You gesture to open his door. When he does, you ask him, “Good morning. Would you like to come in for some coffee?”
******
He declines at first but you managed to convince him to come in. After a few sips of coffee, he insisted on cooking you breakfast.
You hadn’t gone grocery shopping yet and didn’t have much in your fridge except for some eggs and cheese. You had a couple of slices of bread in the pantry so he makes the most out of it. He is appreciative of the effort and continues to tell you that you didn’t need to go out of your way.
“So, do you always make breakfast for girls you pick up from the club?” You joke.
“Not really,” he laughs. “I also don’t fall asleep in my car after I’ve dropped them off.”
“You know you were welcome to sleep on the bed or the couch,” you say casually. “I wouldn’t have minded.”
“Nah, you were passed out and I didn’t want you to think that I was taking advantage of the situation or anything like that,” he reasons.
You smiled at how respectful and thoughtful he was. “I appreciate that. And…thank you for bringing me home.”
“You’re welcome.”
******
Days later...
“Bro, are you sure you can meet the deadline?”
Yoongi glanced at Namjoon, then scratched the back of his neck to think before he gave him an answer. He was feeling stressed with this client because they were fussy about the design. It took at least a dozen iterations of the collection before they finally approved it.
The deadline was fast approaching and Yoongi had fallen behind with the work. He’d have to pay his guys overtime and maybe even work on some of the pieces himself in the evenings to cover more ground.
“Tell them not to worry. Besides, when have I ever missed a delivery date for them?” Yoongi walks away and back into the workshop to check on how the other projects were progressing.
Namjoon nodded at Yoongi’s logic. No matter how stressful it got for him, Yoongi always managed to deliver the goods, and clients were satisfied each and every time. ”Alright, I’ll let them know.” He types a text to the client and sends Yoongi’s response.
After sending it off, he turns his attention back to Yoongi. “Hey, so–how’d you make out last weekend? Are we cool?”
The question seems to take Yoongi by surprise. “Huh? Why wouldn’t we be?” 
Namjoon laughed. “Bro, this is me apologizing for abandoning you for a girl.”
“Oh.” Yoongi suddenly recalls the events leading up to how the night ended. “Uhm–nah, we’re cool. Besides, I did just fine,” he adds casually.
His friend’s mouth spread into a Cheshire cat grin. “Oof–you hooked up, didn’t you?”
Yoongi’s face scrunched in confusion. “Naaww…”
His laughter boomed from his chest. “Bro, I know you’re lying! Lemme see! Is she on social media?”
Yoongi clicked his teeth and groaned. “It wasn’t even like that.”
“So you did meet someone!”
He sighed, exasperated with his friend’s teasing. “Fine, I did. But nothing happened! We just hung out and I took her home.”
Unconvinced, Namjoon’s voice rose a few octaves. ”Whaaatt? Wait–so this the first girl you’ve hooked up with since–”
Yoongi waved his hand in mid-air to stop Namjoon from finishing his thought. “For the last time–she and I did not hook up,” he clarifies firmly. “We just had a nice conversation over a few drinks. Then I drove her back to her place…where I made her breakfast.”
Namjoon doubles over in laughter. “And you’re telling me that nothing happened?”
“Swear to god! After giving me her address, she fell asleep on the way there and I just carried her in. I slept in my car.”
“Wow…” Namjoon breathes out. “Look at you being all chivalrous!”
Yoong snorted at the comment.
“So–are you gonna see her again or what?”
Before he could answer, Namjoon’s phone buzzed with a text from their client. He reads the message to Yoongi. “She asked if you can squeeze in a prototype for barstools?”
“Aish,” Yoongi says under his breath. “I mean…that technically wasn’t even…” he stops short. Instead of arguing, he drags out a sigh and relents. “You know what, fine. Tell her I’ll include it and bill her later.”
Namjoon types up Yoongi’s response, to which the client replies almost instantaneously. “Is he absolutely sure?” He read the text out loud, a wry look on his face.
Yoongi looked up at his friend and let out a grunt of annoyance. “Just fucking tell her ‘yes’.”
Namjoon nods and sends the response again. “I don’t know why I need to be your middleman here–”
“Well, you brokered this deal. And from the jump, they preferred to communicate this way, so…” he trailed off. After ensuring some quality control on his employee’s work, Yoongi walks back into his living space and flops himself onto the sofa. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
Namjoon walks toward his friend and sits on the adjacent seat. “Is that really all there is to it?” His voice had a hint of concern and worry for his friend.
Yoongi turned his head and opened one eye to look at him.
“It’s been over a year. She’s moved on–”
“Clearly,” Yoongi deadpanned before closing his eye again.
Namjoon shifted uncomfortably and scratched the back of his neck. “Well…aren’t you back in the dating scene? Can’t we all be grownups here?”
He let out a deep sigh, then opened his eyes again to dig his phone out of his back pocket. He didn’t think Namjoon’s question required an answer so he just scrolls through his screen.
Talking about his past relationship was a sore subject…even for Yoongi, whom his other friends thought to be typically aloof about these kinds of things. But sometimes, whatever one showed on the outside actually ran much deeper on the inside.
Shrugging, Namjoon takes Yoongi’s reticence as his cue to leave.
When the door shuts, Yoongi pauses his scrolling through his social media feed as his vision lands on a particular post. Damn algorithms got him again. He clicks on the account’s page and follows it.
Next, he types up a message and then hits ‘send.’
******
After work, you head over to a pub close to your office. You offered to meet Yoongi halfway from wherever he was coming from but said that he was happy to head over closer to where you were at.
He was already at the bar when you walked in, looking more relaxed than when you first saw him over the weekend. You weren’t much for guys with long hair but something about his hair being pulled back in a half-up/half-down bun became a contributing factor that held your attention.
You greet him with a hug, which he reciprocates. He asks what you want to drink. You glance at his whisky and decide to order an old-fashioned.
“You know, when you texted me this afternoon, I was a little surprised.”
“And why’s that?” He asks you.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t sure if you thought our night ended kind of weird.” You sat on the stool next to him, your legs crossed in his direction while you turned your glass on the bar’s surface with your fingers.
He laughed. “I’ll admit, I don't remember having a night like that…ever, I think?” Your eyes drift to his fingers that dance over the rim of his glass of whisky. 
“Is that because you always score?”
He caught his lower lip with his teeth and inhaled. “I’ll tell you right now, if my best friend were here, he’d already fallen off his chair laughing.”
His comment made your eyebrows lift in surprise. You both took sips of your drinks. After you swallow, you ask, “On that note, how many serious relationships have you had?”
He nearly chokes on his drink, laughing awkwardly. “Oh, we’re at that level of comfort now?”
You lifted a shoulder. “Seemed like the conversation was headed there anyway. Might as well get there sooner!”
He laughs, then pauses to consider his answer. “I’ve had one.”
“One? That’s it?” You were incredulous. You found him attractive–and not in a novel way. He spoke calmly and even sagely at times. A good conversation these days was rare and often overlooked or easily forgotten. But he was someone you enjoyed talking to...and someone you hadn’t been able to get out of your mind in the last few days.
“Yeah. Just the one,” he replies. 
“Wow…”
“Yep. We were going to get married and everything. But,” he let out a sharp breath, “She changed her mind.” He sighed, picked up his glass, and swirled the liquid in it. “She broke it off the day before…told me she couldn’t go through with it.” 
You watched him throw his head back and polish off the rest of his drink. Your heart hurts for him and you didn’t have a smartass joke to say to lighten the mood.
“Anyway!” He sighed deeply, desperate for a subject change. “That was a long time ago. It’s all done and over with. She’s off doing her own thing, I’m doing mine. What about you? How many serious relationships have you been in?”
“Nine.”
His eyes widened. “Nine? Those were all serious?” He asks carefully.
“Yes,” you say confidently. “Why is that hard for you to believe?”
He scoffed. “I mean…you don’t look that old and you’ve been in nine serious relationships?”
“What does my age have to do with it?” You laughed.
“Well…usually, relationships span years–”
“That’s what you think,” you countered. “You think that in order for a relationship to be considered serious is the amount of time you’ve been with that person. I mean, couldn’t it just be the depth of connection with that person?” 
That stopped him in his tracks. He let that thought sink in, then nodded gently. Meanwhile, you’re watching his facial expressions–the wheels turning in his head.
“I can still feel you silently judging me,” you chuckle.
“I’m not,” he says simply. “I’m certainly in no place to judge. You’re an adult, free to make your own choices. Besides, we’ve only just met.”
You smiled. “Fair point.”
“Although…I’m curious, if you don’t mind me asking.”
You shook your head and prompted him to continue.
“Out of all of those relationships, which one was your worst heartbreak?”
“Damn!” You laughed. “And here you are questioning whether we’ve known each other long enough to discuss these things?”
You both laugh at the thought. When you calm down, he says, “Touché. I was just curious, that’s all. You don’t have to answer.”
“It’s fine, I’ll answer.” You downed the rest of your drink and turned your attention back to him. “The one that really did a number on me was my last relationship. We were together for about six months…” You paused to clear your throat, “until I found out that he was married.”
“Married? So you were someone’s mistress?”
“Unknowingly!” You contest. “Besides, I ended it as soon as I found out. I didn’t want to get tangled up in all that.” You winced at the memory. Not your finest moment but since then, you tried to be more vigilant about red flags.
“Well, like I said–it’s all in the past, right? The point is, we both got our hearts broken. End of story.”
You nodded in agreement before he switches gears. “Don’t you ever get scared?”
“Scared of what?”
“Repeating the whole process. You know, as someone who’s been in all of these relationships…don’t you ever get tired of starting from scratch every time? The whole getting to know each other, falling in love…then being faced with the possibility of things not working out.”
“I wonder about people who are afraid to put themselves out there again after getting hurt by love. I really don’t get that,” you say in jest.
He shrugs. “Who likes getting hurt? That’s not something rational people consciously wish for themselves.”
You sighed wistfully at the thought. “You know, I never understood why some people think of it that way. You know, trying to rationalize falling in love. Isn’t that counterintuitive? Love in itself is all about being spontaneous, irrational…reckless, even. The feeling of being completely wrapped up in the emotion and the moment–all because of one person. That includes all the fear, uncertainties…even the possibility of getting hurt. The experience of love isn’t complete without all that.”
He chuckled with his gummy grin. “Sounds like a huge gamble to me.”
“But if you never take that gamble, how will you ever experience the joy of winning big? How would you ever know what your heart is capable of taking if you’re always afraid of losing?”
He eyed you for a few seconds, letting your words sink in. “So you’re telling me that you’re willing to go through what could possibly be twice the amount of hurt–just to fall in love again?”
“Absolutely!” You declared with confidence.
You took another sip of your drink, then looked him straight in the eye. “I mean…you’re not thinking of hurting me, are you?” You ask him cheekily.
His eyebrow quirked in response. “Y-you’re asking me?” He chuckled nervously.
“Calm down! It’s just a rhetorical question,” you giggled.
You both laugh it off. Afterward, he pursed his lips and eyed you again. “But just so we’re clear…I don’t plan on it.”
His answer made your heart skip. You didn’t have any smart-ass quips to lob back at him.
After what seems to be an eternity of staring at each other in tense silence, he asks, “Do you wanna get out of here?”
******
He showed you around his modest place, where he had a full and, judging by the fresh sawdust on the tables, actively functional workshop. It was attached to a one-bedroom living space with a kitchen, a cozy living room, and a full bathroom. But by your assessment, it looked more like the living space was attached to the workshop.
“You sleep where you work?” You ask while looking at the work surface next to you.
He notices you looking at it so he leans over to swipe the sawdust off the table. “I didn’t see the point of going back and forth between places.”
“Yeah but it must be hard to live where you work and work where you live?”
He chuckles. “On the contrary, it’s more convenient for me. When I’m tired, I just lay on the couch. If I have trouble sleeping, I just come over here and tinker with stuff.”
You eyed him silently as he stood over the table, his hands spread wide while he supported his weight on them.
“I don’t know if I can do that. I need clear boundaries.”
“Don’t you bring work home from time to time?”
You shrugged. “Sometimes, if I’m on a tight schedule. But I try not to do it if I can help it. I prefer the idea of drawing that line where, once I walk out that door, that’s it. I’ll come back to it in the morning. Once I’m off work, I’m off work.”
He hummed. “That’s fair.”
You carefully move a small container of wood stain to the side then hop up on the table. After giving his studio another once-over, you turn your attention to him.
“What are you currently working on?”
He seems hesitant at first but decides to share a little bit. “I’m…trying to create a prototype for this light fixture,” he says vaguely.
“Really? Can I see?”
He chuckles, then paused to check if you were actually serious about looking at his designs. When your expression remained unchanged, he decides to reach past you to pull his sketchbook toward him. He flips through a few pages until he lands on a specific one.
The page has a rough sketch of a multi-tiered looking chandelier with what looked like wooden fringes, instead of what would typically be glass or crystal.
“So, I’m trying to focus on more natural materials like rattan, bamboo…I don’t know, maybe my friend, Namjoon, has been hanging around my studio too much,” he says in jest.
Your fingers brush the pencil lines on the page. His ideas were beautiful. They were modern yet had an old-world feel to them. His pieces didn’t look like something that was mass-produced. Each one had its own personality but all of them were crafted with artisanal care.
“You think you could work with these?” He asks quietly, his face an inch away from you.
“Oh, definitely,” you smiled. “My mind’s already buzzing with ideas.”
He looks down from your eyes to your mouth…then back up to your eyes again. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you whisper then take in his scent. “You smell nice. What is that?”
“Uhm, I don’t know…pine?” He answers before you close the gap between you to kiss him. You taste faint traces of whisky and citrus flavors in his mouth. His lips were soft and melded into yours, making you sigh into him. His kiss was as calm and gentle as his usual demeanor.
He presses his body closer to yours, making you tilt backward on the work table, spilling the can of wood stain on you. You gasp, startled at the feel of it on the side of your leg, and hastily hop off the surface.
“Fuck…I’m so sorry,” he says.
“I-it’s okay,” you stammer, grabbing onto your dress to assess the damage.
“No, it’s not. I ruined your dress.”
“Yoongi, it’s okay,” you say nonchalantly. “I can take it to the cleaners…” You inspect the stain while he goes to grab a paper towel. Who were you kidding? This was varnish. The dress itself was cheap but it was beyond salvageable.
You looked up to see him hovering over you. “Or we could just take it off?” 
With his breath fanning your face, you fist at his shirt and pull him into you again. This time, his lips didn’t feel tentative–they were more ardent…hungrier. He lifts you off the worktable and you both stagger out of the workshop and toward his living space. The closest comfortable surface was couch so he lowers you both there. 
You reach back to lower the zipper of your dress while he pulls his shirt off. When he tosses it to the side, helps you undress the rest of the way through.
His fingers laced around the back of your neck urging you closer to him. He moved from your mouth down to your neck, gently sucking the skin on your collarbone.
You felt a gush of moisture soak through you…you let go of every ounce of control that you hung onto because were desperate for him now.
With one swift move, he unclasps your bra and moves his mouth to your chest while he lowered you further until your head hit the armrest.
Your breath hitches as he wraps his plush lips around an aching nipple. You swore right then that you’d orgasm from the feeling alone…but he was just getting started.
You reach between both of you and undo the button and zipper on his jeans, pushing them down.
He hooks his fingers onto your panties and you arch your back so he can slide them off. You were completely bare for him now, hypnotized by his desire for you at this moment.
You kept your eyes at him, unable to look away as pulls your legs apart and gave your inner thighs gentle kisses. He locked eyes with you and kept contact while you watched him sink his mouth onto your cleft.
You sucked in a harsh breath while he tongued you. You felt every lick and every suction of his mouth onto your moist, swollen lips.
Your walls clenched achingly at nothing while he continued to eat you out. Your breath began to stutter as you shamelessly bucked your hips against his mouth, desperate for a release.
You felt him dip two fingers into you…pulling them in and out lazily while his tongue fluttered over your clit.
Your body bowed when he alternated licking and sucking at your clit. It wasn’t long before your orgasm built up to a fever pitch. Your throat tightened, desperately trying to suck in air while your body tensed.
“Aaahh…gonna cum–fuck…”
You cried out hoarsely further as he got his last two licks in before you came down from your high. You were about to pass out from the pleasure when you saw him fish out a foil packet from his wallet.
You sat yourself up, meeting him halfway as he lined himself up between your thighs. You kissed him senselessly, your tongue fighting his for control.
Your mouth stilled as you felt him slowly enter you. You sucked in another breath while you felt that delicious stretch.
He urged you to lay back down while he pushed the rest of his length into you.
“Fuh…,” was all you managed to breathe out while your eyes rolled to the back of your head as shivers coursed through your body.
You looked back at him, a pained look on his face from how tight you were for him. You gave him a small nod of assurance to let him know that you were okay.
He started to move his hips slowly until he found a consistent rhythm.
He lowered himself further against your body and wrapped your leg around his waist. He thrusted in and out of you at a steady pace while your core tightened further around him along with another orgasm building up.
“Fuck, YN…feel so good,” he choked out in between breaths. He sealed his mouth onto yours, moaning in pleasure.
Your nails raked his back–from his shoulders and down to his hips that relentlessly railed into you.
“Fuck, don’t stop…don’t stop…” you gasped as you felt yourself edge closer to another orgasm.
Your muscles clenched around his cock while he repeatedly hit you deep into your core. You buck your hips into him, meeting him at every thrust while you both moan into each other’s mouths.
The next thing you knew, he had tipped you over the edge again.
His palms cup your ass, raising your hips to him. A few more thrusts and he was arching his back, pressing his forehead to yours as his own climax coursed through him.
The next morning, you wake up to the smell of coffee, that he brought to you, bedside. 
******
After that night, you spent many more going back and forth between his place and yours.
You went about both your days but talked all the time. You always made time to see each other–he’d work around your schedule and you’d work around his. Things were going so well and stress-free.
You didn’t feel the need to change the way you were around him and neither did he. Everything just came naturally to both of you.
Some days, you were unaware of how much time you spent together. Some weekends, you would just laze around and never leave the room. It was bliss.
“Jagiii!” You yell out from his bedroom, hoping he’d hear from the loud, grinding noise of his industrial sander.
He turns the machine off, flips his visor up, and pulls his earplugs out. “Yeah?” he bellowed from his workshop.
“Could I just have five minutes for a phone call?”
He gestures to his workshop assistant, telling him that he can take a break. “Alright, we’ll take five!” he says. 
“You’re the best! Love you!”
“You owe me,” he teases.
“Just put in on my tab, jagiya,” you tease back.
******
Weeks later, you finally signed a lease for your new condo. Yoongi was on hand to help you move and get settled. You’d gone back and forth your old place to pick up smaller things that you didn’t load up in the big truck. The most important things were your larger furniture anyway.
Yoongi was tinkering with the internet connection in the second bedroom while you stood quietly in the midst of the expansive space, surrounded by boxes. It was getting dark out but you hadn’t installed your blinds yet so the moonlight illuminated the room. You stared out the window and into the glittering city lights. 
“Why are you standing out here in the dark?” Yoongi flicks the light switch on.
“No, no–turn it back off.” He does so tentatively. “Is everything okay?” He approaches you carefully from behind, wrapping his arms around you. You lean your head back against him and sighed. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you. Just…trying to take it all in as everything calms down again.”
“Are you tired?” He nuzzled his nose into your hair.
“Mm-hmm,” you nod.
“Yeah, I can smell the dried sweat from your forehead,” he says before you poke him in his side, making him laugh out loud.
“I’m kidding,” he smiles, grabbing onto your waist and turning you around to face him. “Are you happy?”
“I am.” You plant a soft kiss on his lips. “Thank you for helping me today.”
“Of course. Even if you didn’t ask me to, I still would have done it.”
“I know but this is a huge deal for me. After all these years of hard work, I’m finally upgrading my home.”
“That’s great. I’m very proud of you for doing that. And you know,” he glances past your shoulder and jerks his chin at your windows. “I can totally make you some custom blinds, too. None of that plastic, vinyl shit. I can use bamboo so it’s cooling but also great for insulation. Very sustainable, too.”
You giggled and kissed the tip of his nose. “Mmm…keep talking eco-friendly to me, Mr. Min…” 
“Well…” he brushes his lips against yours, “If you like that, wait ‘til you hear about the reclaimed wood we’re using for this new commission.”
You threw your head back and moaned. “Ooh…yes…keep going.”
Chuckling, he dipped his head and leaves a trail of kisses down your exposed throat. “Why don’t we take this back in the bedroom and I can show you what else we can do with some wood.”
You start cackling at his comment and before you know it, he picks you up off your feet and you stumble into your room and stayed there until the sun came up.
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Now…
In a panic, Yoongi heads to one corner of the gallery to search for his friend. “Namjoonah!”
Namjoon’s head whips around to see Yoongi headed for him. He excuses himself from the current conversation he was having. “Hey, Yoongi–”
Immediately, Yoongi pulls Namjoon right by the bathrooms to scold him. “Bro, that’s not cool. I wish you told me that YN was going to be here.”
 “If I had told you, would you have come out tonight?”
Yoongi scoffed, “Of course, I still would have,” his voice went up a higher register, making Namjoon snicker. “I just…I wish you would have given me a warning so I could have been, I don’t know, better prepared!”
“Prepared for what? You guys have been broken up for years. Besides, you’ve always known that she and Hyejin are friends. You should have at least expected her to be here so I don’t know why you’re all bothered. Unless of course you not over her yet?”
Yoongi remains adamant. “Dude, of course, I’m over her! I just got caught off-guard, that’s all.” 
“Are you sure you’re not still thinking about her?”
“Fuck no! Are you kidding? You know I can’t stand her! She’s too loud, a terrible cook…not to mention that she has way too much drama in her life.”
Namjoon snorted. “And you didn’t?”
Yoongi shakes his head dismissively. “Whatever, dude–I’m just not all about that. My new motto in life is to stay drama-free, you know?”
He gives Yoongi a skeptical smile. Just then, the bathroom door opens behind them.
The color from Yoongi’s face drains as he gets the shock of his life when he sees you emerge.
You stood there smirking while Namjoon and Yoongi exchanged looks.
“Uh, sorry, guys–I think I need to use the bathroom.” Namjoon says, stifling a laugh while he cuts in between you two and shuts the door.
Yoongi remained standing in awkward silence, trying to will the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
“I thought you liked it when I was loud for you?” With that, you walk past him and disappear into the crowd.
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Then…
“I can’t hear you, baby…come on…let me hear how good I make you feel.”
“Ahhh…f-fuck…” You cried out loudly, body stiffening, with your fingers grasping Yoongi’s hair at the roots while his tongue teases the last pulses of your orgasm.
“There you go…good girl.”
You and Yoongi were planning to have a quiet night in but Hyejin invites you out at the last minute, saying that you haven’t had a proper girls’ night in a while. Thinking about it now, it’s been over a month since you met up with her. Most of your nights were preoccupied with Yoongi these days.
When Yoongi couldn’t convince you to stay in, he asked if you needed a ride there and you decline, saying that Hyejin offered to pick you up.
When you stepped out of the room and he sees you in your outfit, a dark cloud overcomes him. He grabs you by the waist, lifts you onto the kitchen counter, and moving your panties aside, dives right in.
He helps you off the counter and you smooth your dress. You glance downwards and see the bulge in his pants.
“Hey, let me take care of that.” You reach out to cup him but he catches your hand and lifts it up to his lips to kiss it.
You’re suddenly torn between walking out the door and wanting to stay to suck him off…deep. The latter option sounded more appealing as you felt your mouth water at the thought of him fucking your mouth. 
He pulls you in close and presses his hard-on against you. You let out a small whine of protest. His tongue grazed his lower lip before sinking his teeth into it.
He tutted. “Come home to me later and I’ll give you what you want.” His voice made it sound like a warning…a warning that you were tempted to ignore just to find out what he would do to you for ignoring it. The idea excited you so much that you felt heat pooling between your legs again.
“Are you sure? I still have a few minutes before I’m supposed to meet Hyejin,” you smile sweetly, your lips brushing against his jawline.
“I’m sure. Now go before I change my mind,” he says in jest.
“Okay,” you acquiesce.
Right before you walk away, he takes your mouth and kisses you hard. You couldn’t help but lick traces of your arousal from his lips.
When he pulls away, you are breathless and weak in the knees–more so after that orgasm that he gave you minutes ago.
******
You hadn’t noticed that Hyejin stopped mid-sentence to eye you as you giggled at your phone screen while you exchanged spicy texts with Yoongi. You finally look up and meet her gaze.
“What?”
“What do you mean ‘what’,” she says in a mocking tone. “I’ve been blabbing up a storm here and you’re all heart-eyes, drooling over your phone there.” She tilts her chin up to get a look at your text screen and you immediately pull it close to your chest.
She scoffed then laughed. “Oh my gooood…you are so whipped for him!”
You roll your eyes at her. “I am not!” 
She laughed even louder at your response. “Oh come on, YN! How long have we been friends? I can tell whether you’re just feeling a buzz between your legs or if you’re really into someone. And right now, I know that you are so down bad for him,” she declares.
You feel your cheeks ignite. It wasn’t because of the alcohol but because you knew she was right.
You sighed in defeat. “Okay, fine! So we’re a little obsessed with each other, big deal.”
You started to gush over your relationship. “I just love how much he cares. He checks in, asking whether I’ve eaten yet. He cooks for me…then, he tells me when he misses me. It’s nice. It feels nice to feel needed, you know?”
Hyejin nods. “Well, that’s all because you guys are still in that honeymoon phase!”
You scoff, dipping your fingers into your glass and flicking droplets of cold water at her. “Bitch! You’re so negative!”
She throws her head back in laughter. “I’m kidding, babe! You know me. Seriously, I’m happy for you. Now…” she cleared her throat. “Does he have a single hot friend that you know of?”
******
The following weekend, you convince Yoongi to come with you on a walking tour of a museum exhibiting gothic renaissance art. You were looking for some inspiration for your next project. You saw an ad online and decided it couldn't hurt to go exploring for a bit. It was also a nice excuse to pull him away from his workshop.
“Uhh…” Yoongi croaks tentatively. “I don’t know exactly what it is we’re looking at,” he laughs while cocking his head from one side to the other, trying to decipher the exhibit in front of you.
“Neither do I, jagi,” you giggled, glancing at the museum brochure. “I don’t know, I’m just trying to get some inspiration for this restaurant revamp. They currently have this old western theme…which is strange because they serve pizza and pasta.”
Yoongi laughs. “That concept doesn’t even make sense!”
“I know! But the owner’s daughter is a bit more modern and she’s totally up for a theme change.” You’ve talked to Yoongi about this new contract for weeks now and it’s finally happening. He was excited to bounce ideas off you to the point where you pulled him in as a supplier for the rebrand.
Even though the daughter was pushing for a more modern twist, her father, the restaurant’s current owner, wants to keep some traces of that classic feel to it.
“So, no saloon doors?” Yoongi says sarcastically.
You threw your head back in laughter. “Definitely not! The daughter would fire me. I was thinking we can bring in your natural concepts with that wooden fringe chandelier sketch that you were working on.”
His hand linked with yours, bringing it up to his lips to kiss it, making you grin like a lovestruck teenage girl. “Sounds good to me.”
You walk out of the museum and stood on the sidewalk, intending to walk a block over to a theater, not to see a show but to look at the architecture. The theater had a classic art deco design that would come in handy for your moodboard. You convinced Yoongi to make it part of your chill date before heading back to your place for dinner.
As you approach the end of the block, you are nearly run over by a man pushing a stroller that rounded the corner.
“Hey, watch it,” Yoongi exclaims protectively.
“Oh, I’m sor–YN?”
You suck in a breath. “Soonyoung, h-hi.”
“Hey! Wow…it’s been a while. Uh…h-how’ve you been?” He asks.
“Uhm…g-good,” you stammer. “You?” Then your eyes flick nervously over to the stroller that had a sleeping baby in it. “Congratulations!”
“Thanks,” he smiled. “Uh–so–”
“Yeobo!”
You whip your head around to see a woman come out of the restaurant that you were standing in front of. She walked towards Soonyoung and the stroller.
“Hi,” she greets you and Yoongi, then turns to Soonyoung waiting for him to introduce her.
“This is my wife, Naeyeon. Yeobo, this is YN. She’s an old friend.” She smiles at you then her eyes shift to Yoongi.
Somehow, your brain lurches forward. “This is Yoongi,” you say to both of them while you stood across from them. “My boyfriend.”
“So great to meet you both!” She says with a warm smile.
“Anyway, we should go before we miss our reservation, Nae. It’s good to see you again, YN,” Soonyoung says in a hurry before he and his family walk around you and into the restaurant.
******
Since that awkward run-in with Soonyoung, Yoongi has been uncharacteristically short with you for the rest of the day.
When you get back to your place, he sets the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. Afterward, he picks up the to-go bags that contained your dinner.
You watched him quietly lay out the containers on your dining table, along with the disposable utensils, setting place settings for you and him.
He sits down and pulls his chopsticks apart. “We should eat before the food gets cold,” he says without looking up at you.
You wordlessly take the seat adjacent to him. He immediately puts a dumpling on your plate before he serves himself.
He pauses as if remembering something. He rose from his chair and moved toward the kitchen.
“Do you want a beer?”
“Just water is fine,” you answer blandly while staring at the lone dumpling on your plate.
He returns to the table, setting a glass of water next to you, and immediately takes a long swig of his drink after he sits back down.
He grabs so more food and puts it on his plate, pausing to offer you some but you decline. All this time, he still hasn’t made eye contact with you.
Unable to withstand it anymore, you push your plate aside to finally ask, “Something the matter?”
He doesn’t answer and instead continues to chew his food quietly.
You let out a frustrated sigh. “You’ve been acting weird all afternoon.”
He swallowed his food only to say, “Not now, YN.” He takes another bite.
You pursed your lips and gently press him again. “Look, if we have a problem here, we need to talk about it. We’re both adults here–”
“YN, I said, not now,” he says more sternly. Catching himself, he leans against the back of the chair, throwing his head back and rubbing his eyes. He regrets snapping at you. With a heavy sigh, he finally meets your gaze. “I’m sorry I…” he hesitates but finally gives into that nagging feeling in him. “Was that him?”
You give a small nod. “Yeah.”
“Fuck,” he says under his breath. “You should have introduced me as your boyfriend sooner!”
You scrunch your face in surprise. “Why does the timing even matter? The point was that I introduced you, right?”
His voice grew louder. “If you introduced me sooner, he'd take it as a sign not to make stupid small-talk or-or...even think about trying to start shit with you again!”
“Geez, Yoongi. Why would you even think like that? Clearly, the man was right there with his wife and kid. It was a short, very random run-in that will probably never happen again.” You maintained a calm tone.
“That’s what you think.”
“Excuse me?” You started to grow irate at how unreasonable he was starting to sound. “Yoongi–I’m with you, not him. I love you, not him. I don’t understand why we’re making a huge deal out of this!”
He stood there silently, his hands on his waist, nostrils flaring with every breath he took. The seconds tick by and before you try to reason with him, he huffs and walks into the bedroom, the door slamming.
*****
After you store the takeout containers in the fridge, you enter the bedroom to find him lying on the bed with his back toward you. He doesn’t turn to face you or say anything so instead, you shower and get changed. When you get under the covers, you turn on your side so you faced the opposite direction.
A few minutes of silence and staring at your nightstand, you hear him let out a deep sigh before speaking. “I’m sorry for acting the way I did earlier.”
His apology pinches your chest but you keep your back toward him. “You know, just because I hooked up with a married man before doesn’t mean that I’m itching to do it again. So I froze when I saw Soonyoung, but that’s only because I hadn’t seen him since I broke it off and to add to that, his wife was right there. What did you expect me to do?”
“I know, I’m sorry. I got jealous and–I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking.”
It was then that you rolled over to face him.
“Look…I made a stupid mistake a while ago but as soon as I was aware of it, I walked away and I grew from that. I thought that my being completely honest with you from the very beginning was a way to build trust between us…and that I had nothing to hide. But…” Your voice started to waver, “If you’re only going to use that against me, then I don’t think–”
“No, no–” He engulfs you in his arms immediately. As the warmth emanating from his body coursed through you, you couldn’t help but cry into his chest.
“Aw, baby…I’m sorry. I love you. I won’t question that again. And I do appreciate your honesty.”
You lifted your head and tilted your chin up to him. “I love you, too, Yoongi.” 
There was nothing you could do to change the past but as he rocked you to sleep, you wondered if you were right to be open and honest with him from the beginning …or was it a careless mistake? Should you have put your best foot forward first and pretended to be perfect instead?
At your age, you learned that being up-front with your relationship expectations prevented less hurt if things went south. If either party decides that any of those expectations was a dealbreaker, you moved on, and no harm was done.
You only hoped that Yoongi felt the same.
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Tags: @internetjunkdrawer @itdoesntmatterwhy @yoongukie-ff @deepseavibez @miksancheese @shesoldbutcute @yu-justme @joonschocochip
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Part 2 ◥ | Main Fic Masterlist
Thank you for reading! If you loved it and/or curious to learn more, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn't like it so much, I would still like to hear about it 💜
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aliceinxreaderhell · 28 days
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I'm just super curious about this fandom preference, reblogs are appreciated
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andypantsx3 · 2 years
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fingerprints | 4 | todoroki x reader
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pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader
length: 5.5k of est. 20k words | 4th of 8 chapters
summary: When you’re outed as pro hero Shouto’s soulmate on national television, there are really only two sensible things for you to do: blame someone else and run.  
tags/warnings: romance, soulmate au, fluff, pining, not actually unrequited love, aged up characters, eventual smut
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The days after your first two meetings with Todoroki–Shouto, that was–were incredibly strange.
Shouto was serious about maintaining contact. You apparently hadn’t scared him away at either meeting, as he had texted you multiple times a day since then, sometimes with the occasional phone call thrown in as if to make sure your heart rate wasn’t operating too steadily in his absence.
The first text had been apropos of nothing–a picture of a small black cat with a tiny bell on its collar next to one of Shouto’s boots, which he explained in a follow up text he’d met on patrol. He’d then asked about your day, which you answered and then asked about his, and the two of you had fallen into a light conversation.
Every day after that, he’d messaged you something random about his day, and you’d followed up with something from yours–he especially liked pictures of the little orange kitten, so you made sure to send as many pictures as you could; shots of her sniffing curiously around the reception room, napping on top of the desk, batting pens off and scattering adoption papers everywhere.
For his part, Shouto texted kind of like a grandpa, which was especially cute–all proper grammar and punctuation, weirdly straightforward but topically unpredictable, liable to switch streams in the middle of a conversation. You got pictures of his lunch, a drawing a kid had done for him as a thank you, a sunset as he closed out a patrol.
Sometimes if he hadn’t had time to text much, he called later in the evening, his voice all husky and low at the end of a long day. It might have seemed a little suggestive, coming from anyone else–but he was always polite, never lead the conversation anywhere with even the slightest hint of impropriety–just talked about the same things you might have over text, trading stories about your day, your friends, your families, anything that struck you in the moment.
It all just made you like him even more, even while your relationship continued to remain ambiguous.
You were under no illusion that just because the two of you were soulmates, that Shouto saw it as anything romantic. If anything, he seemed determined to forge a kind of friendship–drawn in by your soulmarks, but not amorously influenced by them.
In fact, he seemed to have his own alternative connections, if the media was to be believed. A few weeks after the soulmate story had first broken, news sources appeared to be no closer to locating Shouto’s soulmate, but they were tracking his public connections meticulously. Every week at the grocery store, you were assaulted with a barrage of magazines at checkout, bearing shots of Shouto at some event or another, accompanying pro hero Uravity down a red carpet or leaning in to speak to Earphone Jack while what looked like some kind of afterparty raged on behind them.
The most impactful shot had graced the cover of a magazine just this week, alongside a bolded caption reading: Shouto Soulmate Still in Question–Why the Pro Hero Might Prefer to Leave it That Way. It was a photo of Shouto and pro hero Creati at some high profile event, both of them tall and stunningly gorgeous in their respective red carpet wear. Shouto was leaning in, arm at Creati’s waist and his mouth at Creati’s exquisitely bejeweled ear. Creati wore a daring dress with a plunging neckline, and an unmistakably fond expression, her pert little mouth starting to pull upwards in a dazzling smile.
They looked intimate–-happy, close—exactly like a couple. There was no denying it.
A twisted pit of jealousy had knotted in your stomach at the sight of the photo, before you had to blink and look away, staring hard at your meager pile of groceries to get your focus off of the image.
You knew you had absolutely no right to him, and Shouto had never given any indication that he meant your connection to be a romantic one. There was no reason you should be feeling anything other than pleased for him, seeing that photograph.
It was you who was the problem here, you who’d left your grubby little fingerprints all over Shouto in the first place, you who acted like a schoolgirl with a crush anytime Shouto’s name appeared on your phone screen. You’d always known the soulmate connection wasn’t guaranteed to be romantic for everyone, although you’d always hoped that whoever was out there for you would want to make it so–that you would be so inherently right for each other in every respect that you would fall into it, easily and naturally and happily.
But that was your problem, not his. You needed to manage your expectations better, and you also needed to take a ten billion milligram chill pill, stat.
Regardless of your resolution to be better, however, there was no denying you were still nursing a little bit of hurt when Shouto texted you the day after you’d seen the magazine, telling you he’d like to see you again, and asking if you’d like to meet him at his apartment.
You knew the sight of him in person again would be absolutely too much for you, especially while you were being the dramatic little weenie you were. And under no circumstances were you to go to his apartment, given that you wanted to make sure you weren’t sending any signals of any untoward expectations. So you shot off a carefully opaque reply, heading his request off.
thanks for the invite!! you said. at the shelter though. if you’re free next week i can come by your office to return your gloves!
Of course, you got off the shift at the shelter early in the evening, but you didn’t want to make that clear to him. To head off any further discussion on the topic, you sent a picture of the orange kitten, looking utterly unhinged and deeply demonic as she attempted to gnaw through a blue pen, her tiny face all scrunched up. The princess says hi!!
You didn’t hear back from him in the next few minutes, so you assumed he’d bought it.
You assumed that for exactly twenty-two minutes, in fact, until the bells on the door jangled, and you looked up to see Todoroki Shouto himself stepping through your door.
Your heart shot into your mouth at the sight of him, your spine going numb as all your blood rushed right out of your brain. Your pen tipped out of your grip, clattering onto the table where it was immediately pounced on by the orange kitten.
Shouto’s eyes swept over you, mouth tipping upwards just slightly at the corner. He looked as devastatingly handsome as usual, in a grey coat and dark jeans, and white sneakers now that the greying snow had finally melted. He was handsome in the kind of way that sucked all the air right out of the atmosphere, even more so than you had remembered.
You focused on breathing normally.
“Hey!” you said in greeting. “I really didn’t mean, um, that you had to come by. I didn’t mean to inconvenience you, I’m super sorry.”
Maybe you should have just sucked it up and gone to his place.
Shouto looked unbothered, however. “I have the next few days off, it’s no trouble,” he said. He came closer, eyes falling to the orange kitten where she was still massacring your pen. She peered up at him, giving the back of his hand an interested sniff as he held it out to her.
The next thing you knew, she’d gotten her little claws into his sleeve and was slowly but surely climbing her way up his arm, almost as if she was picking up where they’d left off last time. Shouto held very still, letting her make her way up to his shoulder.
“Hello,” he told her when she made it, his white eyebrow raising.
The kitten rubbed her cheek on him in greeting, a quick little swipe of her face, doing a careful circle around his shoulder.
Your heart melted into a puddle. That was so cute, it actually should have been illegal.
“She’s been a little extra needy lately because all her siblings have been adopted,” you told Shouto, watching her settle into him.
He might not understand because she was so taken with him–and so weirdly well-behaved with him–but you’d watched as she oscillated wildly between haughty, disinterested, and absolutely insane when she’d met prospective kitten owners. You’d stood by six times as potential adopters fell in love with her brothers and sisters over her, taking home sweeter, more cuddly, and way chiller kittens.
It made you feel bad for her, even though you sometimes suspected she was actually Satan’s right hand woman, stuffed into a cute little container for portability. But you had a soft spot for the sort of girl who sabotaged herself by acting up when other people were around. You could kind of relate.
Shouto turned his head to look at her, bringing a hand up to brush his fingers softly through her fur. “No one wanted her?” he asked, frowning.
You shook your head. “She’s kind of the hugest handful in the world.”
Shouto looked skeptical–which on him, was just the slightest raise of an eyebrow. “She seems calm.”
“You have some kind of cat magic I can’t even begin to explain,” you said. “She’s normally drawn blood and shredded like eighteen adoption forms at this point.”
Shouto’s long fingers pulled through her fur in another slow pass, and he looked over at her speculatively. She yawned as if for effect, her tiny fangs flashing.
Shouto’s mouth twitched.
“I was hoping perhaps you might accompany me for dinner,” he said, finally, turning back to you. Those heterochromatic eyes rested fixedly on your face. “At my apartment. When I texted you, I did not mean I would not wait for you after your shift.”
Your face heated, instantly on red alert.
Oh no.
Oh no, he was still on the apartment thing?
Under no circumstances were you allowed to go there, not on your watch. It was way too intimate of a thing to go to a man’s house–and you were way too untrustworthy of a girl to go there with him in particular.
And besides, he would never have asked such a thing if he’d known you had designs on him. It was way safer to keep this relationship confined to text messages, phone calls, and the occasional coffee shop meet up.
You quickly wracked your brain for something to get yourself out of it, coming up with very little.
Where was Yoshizuki Ayumi when you needed to throw someone under the bus and make a quick escape again?
“Um,” you said, wincing when your voice came out kind of strangled. “That’s super nice but, uh—you don’t need to invite me over. You don’t need to feed me either. I should be treating you, really. I owe you one, remember? Except my apartment is…well—you wouldn’t like it.”
Then an excuse dawned on you, even as poor as it was, and you scrabbled to grab hold of it like a life vest. “Anyway you wouldn’t want me there after a shift at the shelter! I’ve got all sorts of dander and dog food on me and—well probably other stuff. Maybe some other time when I’m cleaner and haven’t been rolling around with the animals?”
It was so transparent, but good manners would hopefully compel Shouto to let it be. Plus if he ever found out you were developing a crush on him, he’d realize how narrow of an escape he’d made from you, and be glad you never got too wrapped up in his personal life.
Future Shouto would be thanking you.
Current Shouto, however, watched you for a long moment, his face going strangely still, almost like it had at the press conference. You watched his eyes flick to the kitten, lingering almost contemplatively. And then they cut back to you, something strange playing about his mouth.
“It is no trouble.” he said, finally. “In fact, I believe you might be in a position to help me, given your dress.”
Well that was an unexpected turn. What the hell did the number four hero need help from you for?
“I would like to adopt her,” Shouto said. “The kitten.”
Your mouth fell open, brain not fully registering what he’d said.
He wanted to what?
“I would like help getting her set up. At my apartment,” Shouto said. “I thought perhaps you might be willing to help me.”
And then, to your horror, he leaned in, catching your eye as his face drew nearer. “Will you help me, Y/N?” he asked, his voice going strangely soft and low.
The words were out of your mouth before you knew what you’d said. “Yes! Anything you need!”
You cringed reflexively at the gross, breathy register you’d managed to hit.
Shouto apparently didn’t notice, looking pleased. “Thank you,” he said, the hint of a smile at the curve of his mouth.
The way he said it made you strangely warm in the face, and you looked down, chewing your lip. “You’re sure, though, about adopting her? This sounds very sudden. It can be a lot.”
You could tell he obviously loved cats, considering the amount of patrol pictures of them he’d sent you over the past few weeks, and he obviously liked this orange kitten in particular, given how often he’d asked after her too. And he was clearly very careful and thoughtful about the people and things in his life, so you had no concerns there.
But you assumed he had to be busy, being the number four.
“I had wanted one,” he said. “Before I met you. I’m just taking the opportunity where I see it.”
The turn of phrase was weird, but his face gave nothing away as you looked up at him. He ran his fingers through the kitten’s fur again, murmuring something soft to her. She stretched out her tiny paws, claws flexing, and you saw a smile pull at the corner of Shouto’s mouth.
“No one wanted you, hmm?” he asked her gently, rubbing behind her ears. “I’ll take care of you.”
You could feel yourself dissolving into a pile of goop as he spoke, so you rummaged around on top of the desk for something to distract you from how disgustingly cute he was. You drew out a pile of adoption forms and the pen the kitten had been savaging when Shouto had walked in.
“Okay, you’re going to have to fill these out, and—I’m assuming you don’t have a carrier since I don’t see one?” you asked him.
He shook his head.
“Okay, we have some gently used ones we can sell you, too, if you want,” you said.
“I’d like that, thank you,” he murmured, leaning over the desk to accept the pen from you. You caught a whiff of his cologne again as he did so—light, airy, and horribly good—and you watched as the pads of his fingers brushed yours as he took the pen from you, leaving two stark fingerprints behind.
Shouto paused, and so did you–for just a moment before you blurted out, “Be right back!”
And then you all but threw yourself through the doors to the back, fingers tingling as if Shouto had electrocuted you. You stood there for a moment, heart racing abnormally fast. You took several calming breaths, trying to remind yourself that this kind of reaction was insane, considering the state of your relationship—you could do better.
You did a quick walk through the back, checking in on all of the animals and refilling food and water, giving a couple of ear scratches to calm yourself. When your heartbeat had finally slowed to normal levels, you went to collect a carrier for the kitten.
Shouto was still bent over the desk, filling out the forms when you got back, his broad shoulders throwing shadows over the papers. You tried very hard not to notice the line of his bicep, shifting under his jacket as he wrote.
As he finished up, you accepted his check for the adoption fee, and gave him the required spiel, going through all the kitten’s medical history, including her vaccinations and the deworming she’d gotten when she arrived at the shelter.
Shouto lingered thoughtfully over the last box on her paperwork, glancing over at you as he did.
“Her name,” he explained when you looked at him curiously.
You supposed throwing out names like Chaos, Our Lady of Death and Destruction, and Criminal Intent were off limits. Shouto’s eyes roved over you absently as he thought, until an idea seemed to strike him.
He quickly penned a name into the box, and you choked as he pushed the forms over to you.
Princess.
“You know she’s the actual worst, right?” you asked him. Shouto just gave you a flat look, reaching a hand up to his shoulder and petting her defensively.
“Shh love,” he said to her. “Don’t listen.”
You suppressed a groan. So this was how it was going to be.
You supposed that Princess was a fitting name, given the kitten’s haughty little attitude and general sense of entitlement to anything and everything in the shelter. You filed the paperwork away, tucking Shouto’s check in the drawer of the register, and gathered up all the kitten’s medical papers, a copy of the adoption agreement, and receipt for the check.
And then she was his.
Shouto lingered in the shelter with you for the remainder of your shift, the two of you making light conversation, drawing up a list of things he’d need to get for the cat, and teasing Princess with a pen when she finally decided she wanted down from Shouto’s shoulder.
Shouto’s suitability as her guardian was once again recemented when you tried to get her into the carrier at closing time. She wriggled wildly and resistantly, yowling and sinking her claws into the sensitive skin at the underside of your wrist, her tiny needle teeth tearing right into your thumb. Shouto carefully pulled her off of you and she immediately went pliant in his grip, suddenly sweet and calm and happy to be handed into the carrier.
“You’re an actual cat whisperer, oh my god,” you said, when he’d gotten Princess in and latched the door.
Shouto smiled, an unfairly charming pull of that full mouth. He leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you want to know the secret?” he asked.
You looked at him, intrigued. “You have an actual secret?”
Maybe he should be running a pet shelter.
He nodded seriously, but his eyes glittered. “I run warm on my left side. Cats have always liked it.”
You startled, surprised as Shouto offered both of his hands to you, palms upturned. His hands were unfairly pretty, fingers long and elegant, his fair skin littered here and there with the raised line of a fading scar or stubborn callous. Slowly, carefully, you reached out, pressing both of your palms to his. Fingerprints bloomed under your touch, staining his skin like watercolor.
It took you a minute to remember you were supposed to be focusing on something other than the way your touch left lingering marks on his skin. When you did, you realized he was right, and that you could totally feel it—Shouto’s left palm was noticeably hotter, deliciously warm, in fact, especially in comparison to the cold wind you could hear whipping just outside the door.
Shouto’s fingers closed around yours, pressing gently into your skin, and you fought down a furious flush as your skin answered him, color blossoming under the pads of his fingers.
“Um—yeah you’re right,” you said, your ears going just as hot as his left side. “No wonder Princess is a big fan.”
Slowly, carefully, you tugged your hands away from his, not wanting to linger and send the wrong message. Hand touching was another indulgence he would want to reserve for someone who wasn’t a little creep—the last thing he’d want to do was touch you if he knew how you really felt about it.
Besides, he had Creati. You had to remember that.
Shouto’s eyes were half-lidded as you looked up at him and told him you needed to lock up, you’d meet him outside in a minute. He seemed almost reluctant to go, but you shooed him out the door, stuffing the cat carrier into his arms.
You focused on not hyperventilating as you closed up the shelter for the evening, and the cold wind was a welcome relief on your feverish skin by the time you made it outside.
You made your way to a pet shop on the way to Shouto’s apartment, where you helped Shouto acquire a cat box and litter, bowls for food and water, food, some grooming tools, and a scratching post. Shouto seemed to want to buy Princess everything his gaze landed on, and by the end of the venture you were also laden down with a cat bed, cat tree, approximately ten million cat toys, and a collapsible tunnel stuffed with paper that rustled whenever you moved it.
Truly, a haul fit for a Princess.
Shouto’s apartment was also surprisingly close, in the same ward as his hero office, roughly a twenty minute sojourn from the shelter. It was one of those luxury buildings with a modern glass front and sleek, light wood paneling along the sides, with a doorman and reception desk in the lobby and everything.
As you passed through to the elevator, you resolved that Shouto would never, ever see your crumbling backstreet apartment, replete with garbage furniture that no one else wanted.
As he let you in, you realized Shouto’s apartment itself was also unbearably gorgeous, modern in build but accented in the old Japanese style, with inlaid tatami in some rooms, low tables, and woven textiles. It was an interesting blend of old and new, light and dark, understated and slightly masculine in bent–it looked professionally done.
“Momo recommended a designer to me,” Shouto said, looking kind of embarrassed as he deposited the haul of cat supplies by one of the low tables. “I let her do whatever she wanted.”
It took you a minute to realize Momo meant Yaoyorozu Momo–Creati–and jealousy simmered lightly in your stomach.
So. It was true.
They were definitely close if he was letting her–and her designer–call the shots on how his home was designed and decorated.
She was probably, most definitely his girlfriend.
Another hot spike of jealousy lanced through your gut at the idea that your soulmate had someone else, when you had always treasured the idea of a romantic soulmate connection. It couldn’t be helped, you knew–-there was no guarantee you might meet your soulmate in this lifetime and it only made sense to love and allow yourself to be loved by people who were also right for you, too. You would be a little witch for begrudging Shouto and Creati their happiness.
But it stung nevertheless, to find your soulmate having already lost him in a way, too.
You tried to gather yourself together, focusing on directing Shouto on setting up the cat things in a single room for Princess to adjust to the new space. He laid out everything in his bedroom, a room that made you hyperaware of his every movement while you were in it, eyes glued to the shift of his bicep under the light blue button up he’d been wearing under his jacket, the way he leaned into you to ask a question now and again.
His room smelled like him, light and fresh and expensive—and you spied a bottle of the cologne he must have been wearing on the dresser, along with a scattering of personal belongings you couldn’t help but nose through.
There was a small pile of discarded cufflinks and a watch in a dark metal, deposited absently in front of several framed pictures of what must have been Shouto’s family. Your favorite was a picture of him next to a slender, diminutive woman who was unmistakably his mother—the same white hair and ice grey eyes as Shouto had on his right side, the same full mouth and patrician nose, the same underlying grace and elegance in the set of their features.
“She’d like to meet you,” Shouto said near your ear, making you jump.
You whirled around, realizing he’d drawn close without you realizing, and that he’d already let Princess out of her carrier–-and she’d hauled herself right back up his left shoulder to settle into his warmth.
Apparently she’d have no trouble adjusting to the new environment.
“Your mom?” you asked, a little embarrassed to have been caught looking through his things. “She, um, knows me?”
You couldn’t think how.
Shouto nodded. “I’ve told her about you—about meeting my soulmate. She’d like to meet you for lunch whenever you have the time.”
Your stomach fluttered nervously. Oh, that made sense. And that was—nice. A nice thought, had you maybe been the more traditional kind of soulmates, the kind who would have been more than friends to one another.
It seemed kind of a strange offer, though, to meet someone who would float more on the periphery of her son’s life. You wondered if she maybe meant to impress on you that Shouto had a full life already—friends, family, a burgeoning career, a girlfriend.
You also absently wondered when and how you were going to scrape together the funds to have lunch with a woman who had been married to the number one hero and was mother to the current number four–a woman who was kitted out in clean designer sets in the photos Shouto had of her. You hoped she didn’t want to go anywhere too nice, considering.
You wondered if you shouldn’t refuse, but Shouto was looking down at you expectantly, and you could bring yourself to disappoint him.
“Um, next week could work,” you told him. “If that’s okay? My paycheck comes in on Friday so any time that weekend would work best.”
Shouto blinked, a crease appearing between his brows. “Your paycheck,” he echoed blankly.
Retroactively it occurred to you that discussing finances was kind of rude, especially in front of a rich person. “Uh yeah. Anyway, usually every other Saturday works! Um, how should I set it up?”
It was polite to bring a gift to the parents of your significant other when you first met them, but was it presumptuous to bring a gift to the mother of your soulmate when that soulmate was just a friend? You would have to google it when you got home.
Shouto frowned at you some more, and you quickly moved to distract him, pointing over at the litter box. “I’ll uh, get that set up then,” you said, and hurried to busy yourself doing just that.
By the time you’d managed to get the litter box set up in his ensuite and filled with litter, Shouto had built the cat tree and was too focused on arranging it in front of one of his floor-to-ceiling windows to continue frowning at you. But when he looked up at you, you could see a speculative light in his eye that you didn’t quite understand.
“I will tell my mother next Saturday, then,” he said. “What time may I pick you up?”
You froze. Pick you up sounded kind of like a date. And pick you up also meant he’d be at your apartment, and he was one million percent not allowed to see the inside.
“Uh, that’s fine. I can meet you wherever! No need to go out of the way,” you said. “Where should we go?”
Shouto was undeterred, however. “I insist. Will one o’clock be suitable?”
No. More like never o’clock, my good man.
“I’m not kidding, Shouto, I can totally meet you at—”
Shouto leaned closer, instantly cutting off the part of your brain capable of producing speech. Up close, his face was even more chillingly beautiful—his right eye glinting silvery in the light, left a deep cerulean. It was all you could do to go still, to not lean in and kiss him.
“Y/N,” he said, his tone gentle but firm in a way that made all your nerve endings prickle. “I insist. Will one o’clock be suitable?”
“Yes,” you answered automatically.
A hint of another little smile tugged at Shouto’s mouth. “Thank you. I will pick you up then.”
Your face burned. To your complete devastation and yet utter relief, he leaned back, and dipped a hand in his back pocket for his phone. “Now about dinner,” he said, “It’s too late to begin cooking. And you might not want me to.”
Between the two of you, you settled on a vegetable-heavy Mediterranean place—motivated mostly by the fact that you knew you’d be scrimping on the veggies for the next couple weeks in order to afford a gift and whatever lunch with Shouto’s mother entailed.
The food was incredibly good and the two of you ate stuffed together at Shouto’s coffee table, companionable and informal, watching while Princess sniffed interestedly around her new digs. She seemed to have very few qualms about operating in a new environment, padding about with the self-possession and assurance a true princess might have.
As usual, it was all too easy to fall into conversation with Shouto while you watched her. You traded stories about the shelter and plans for the rescue you eventually wanted to open, for Shouto’s stories about his patrols the last few days, his apprehension about an upcoming fan event his manager had wrangled him into. Apparently, some overzealous fans had taken to inking their fingers prior to meeting with him, in ill-conceived attempts to leave “soulmarks” on him, and you couldn’t help but feel guilty for inspiring their interest.
You scoffed at the mention of it, forgetting to behave yourself in front of Shouto. “If they want the full experience, they need to yell something absolutely insane and then book it. Bathed in blood and looking like they rolled right out of a dumpster. All of this lingering around hopefully in their cutest outfit is way too chill.”
A smile twitched at Shouto’s mouth. “Would you have lingered, had no one else been around?”
You looked at him like he was insane. “Are you crazy? Absolutely not.”
His eyes traced your face curiously. “Why ever not?”
You caught yourself before you could accidentally tell him he was the most upsettingly appealing man in the entire world and that meant you couldn’t be around him. “Because. I had places to be.”
Shouto laughed. “Ah yes—you told me you were busy, when I found you.”
You let out a rude noise at him. “And I was! You’re lucky you could get an appointment with me, you know. I’m very in demand.”
Shouto’s eyes were bright. “Yes, there were so very many people there when I arrived.”
The audacity.
You squinted at him, pointing your fork at him like a weapon. “You are way mouthier than advertised. I thought you were supposed to be the reticent, mysterious number four. No one warned me you came with so much sass.”
Shouto made a show of inspecting his fingernails, unfussed by this accusation. “I’ve made no such claims.”
You laughed, unable to help yourself. Shouto looked pleased at having drawn amusement out of you. “You and Princess are made for one another,” you told him.
He looked fondly over at the kitten, who was busy raking her little claws all down one of the nice walnut side tables next to Shouto’s couch. He didn’t seem concerned, just watched her with a hint of affection, even though you could tell the table cost more than your monthly rent.
“Well she’s certainly making herself at home here,” you observed. “She will be running this place in no time.”
Shouto’s eyes flicked over to you, twin points of grey and blue. He watched you for a moment, before pronouncing, “You may also make yourself at home here.” His tone was low, somehow insistent. “Since you are one of her loyal subjects.”
You laughed, startled by the bare kindness of the statement, the unaffected way he’d said it. Your face heated, and you could feel your stomach flutter at the open way he was looking at you. It was couched as a joke, but not pronounced like it. A genuine offer.
“I—um—thank you,” you said. “Anything her highness needs, I’ll be here.”
Another almost secretive smile pulled at the corner of Shouto’s mouth. “I would like that,” he said.
Simple, bare, and disarmingly honest.
And it was then, in that moment–-at Todoroki Shouto’s coffee table, with a kitten ravaging all of his furniture in the background—that you knew.
For all his beauty, for all his nobility, for all the very many things you’d started to learn and like about Todoroki Shouto—it was his innate kindness that you liked best. His innate kindness that would most certainly keep you in his life, even if only as a friend—
And his innate kindness that finally made you certain that you had fallen for him.
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drunkewok · 5 months
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Tiger Inside Chapter Twenty-Four
Stray Kids Mafia (ongoing)
Masterlist
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Likes, reblogs and feedback always greatly appreciated
WC: 3.5k
Pairing: Lee Know x reader
Genre: Series, Enemies to lovers, non-idol AU, Mafia AU
Synopsis: After years spent away from the family, two strangers start frequenting your place of work, only to bring daunting news. Flung back into the world of the mafia, you try to adapt to your new normal and work alongside a team of eight skilled members to uncover a mystery and take down an unknown enemy.
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, drinking, swearing, violence, weapons
Disclaimer: Any portrayal of Stray Kids or any other idols in this story is purely fiction and do not at all reflect their own personalities or how I view them as a person, it is purely for the sake of the story.
Please do not copy or repost my work
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Multiple drained green bottles littered the coffee table, hazy laughter echoing through the room at the crack of a drunken joke. Minho and Seongho’s words failed to pass through my ears as I found myself zoning out at the wall, the alcohol starting to give a fuzz to my surroundings as I held myself steady. I pulled myself from the cushions, letting my feet pull me to the kitchen in search of a glass of water.
“No, really though,” Seongho’s voice carried with slight laughter. “She- She may act like she’s tough but she’s actually a big ole softy who just wants to be held when she’s upset.” His words blurred together, his tongue slurring as they left his mouth. 
“Ya!” I smacked his arm as I plopped back down onto the couch, glass of water in hand. “No talking about me the moment I leave the room!”
“I’m just speaking the truth! Remember that stuffed bear I got you? And how distraught you were when you lost it?”
“Seongho, shut up.” In that moment I was praying for the ability to have my eyes drill into the side of his head, the little vocal filter he had even while sober clearly having been thrown out the window.
“Aw, that’s so sweet.” I could tell Minho’s words were laced with a tease, clearly feeding off of Seongho’s drunken ramblings. 
“Hey, you shut it too.” My head quickly shot to Minho, finger raised in a silent threat. How is he still this coherent? Besides the flush clearly showing on his cheeks, I would have never guessed he was even drinking with us.
“What? You embarrassed?” Seongho pushed a pouted lip as he looked my way, the mock in his tone dripping with every word. “Too embarrassed to admit you prefer hugging onto something while you sleep?”
“If you don’t shut your mouth right now I’ll do it for you, I swear to god.” I threw a pillow in his direction, Seongho’s delayed response time causing it to hit him directly in the face. 
My ears burned, cheeks changing hues as all the blood in my body rushed to my face. I much rather preferred earlier when it didn’t feel like the two of them were teaming up against me in their teases.
“Okayyyyy, fine.” Seongho settled the pillow at his side, both of our eyes promptly pulled towards the light up of his phone placed face up on the table, a new message notification flashing across the screen. He quickly grabbed it and held it close as he opened the message, a subtle blush growing across his cheeks.
“Spill it. Who is it?” Seongho bit the inside of his cheek as he suppressed a smile, slipping the phone into his pocket after typing out a response.
“I haven’t told you about him yet.” I quickly pulled my feet up under me, slightly leaning forward with curiosity and gripping a pillow into my lap.
“Okay? well you better tell me about him now!” 
“Him? Oh are you…? I thought you two might’ve-” Minho’s eyes studied between the two of us in confusion, brows creasing as he blinked it away.
Seongho and I went silent for a moment as we both turned towards Minho as his sentence trailed off, before turning back to each other with laughter.
“Oh no, we tried that one time, let’s just say it didn’t really work out how we would’ve thought.” I waved him off as I tried to control my laughter, flashes of a memory of a drunken night in bed together flipping through my mind.
“I was mistaken, okay?" Seongho lightly shoved me to the side, cheeks blushing in embarrassment.
“It’s okay, now you just know what team you play for.” I gave a nonchalant shrug, bringing my glass up to my lips before quickly realizing the derailment of the conversation. “Okay okay okay, but put that aside, who is he!?” My hand waved away the changing topic, attempting to keep Seongho focused.
“Alriiiiight!” Seongho held his hands in front of me, trying to shush me before continuing. “His name is Hyunmin, he started frequenting the lounge a little while ago and we just clicked. He just texted saying he was sad he missed me since I slipped out of work early to come here.”
“Oh my god, and you didn’t think to tell me this!? Com’on, I wanna know all about him, spill it.” Seongho delved into the story of a young man who arrived one night, sitting at the end of the bar and striking up a conversation with him, freshly out of a breakup and searching for  distraction in a glass of alcohol. He was a surprisingly chipper one, quickly finding new comfort in Seongho’s company instead of whoever had just broken the poor boy’s heart.
From there he quickly joined the list of regulars, their interactions being the highlight of each other’s days. Seongho beamed with pride as he explained the night he finally had the courage to slide Hyunmin his number, and him gladly accepting it, the two of them becoming inseparable from then on.
“I seriously can’t believe you’ve waited all this time to tell me that you’re seeing someone.” I swapped my glass for my bottle on the table, falling back into the cushions with the back of my hand over my forehead, feigning dramatic offense.
“Okay, you have no room to talk about holding secrets.” Seongho raised his brows as he stared me down, myself just trying to hide my face behind the neck of my bottle.
“You’re not going to let me live this down? Are you?”
“Not in the slightest.” He grinned as he relaxed with another sip, before running off into his next topic.
I watched the two boys as they engaged in a conversation, primarily dominated by Seongho. They finally seemed at ease in each other’s company, soft grins on both of their faces as they discussed the most random of pointless topics. 
Noticing my absence from the conversation, Seongho targeted me, a finger waving in the air as he pointed towards me.
“You don’t…” He hesitated for a moment, blinking as he finally let himself catch a breath. “...you don’t even know what’s been going on at work!” He had started informing me of everything that had happened at Blossom since my exit, and all of the updates I had missed with our regulars;
One now wears a ring, 
One lost his job, 
And one welcomed a new child into the family.
His stories may be difficult to decipher as the words became one incoherent mess, but I thankfully had become fluent enough in drunk Seongho speech to translate.
I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness, but also surprise, at the fact I was missing my days at Blossom. The lounge had been such a primary aspect of my life for so long. Mundane, yes, but also some of the most entertaining moments I had the pleasure to experience in Gangnam, and it had brought me and my closest friend together.
I sunk back into the cushions, letting my head fall back with closed eyes, hoping the world may decide to stop spinning for just two seconds. I was blissfully able to keep their conversations as ambient white noise for a bit, but Seongho somehow segueing the topic to frogs finally had me raising my head in confused entertainment. I almost decided to interject, but thinking it was best to opt silent, just seeing where he’d have the ability to take this.
Seongho fell back into the couch as he spoke, Minho watching him with humor as he examined his drunken state. Seongho’s head lolled to the side, sentence trailing off as he met Minho’s gaze, Minho staring back confused at his abrupt halt on his spewing of words.
“Howww have you not fucked him with eyes like that?” 
Minho’s cocky smirk quickly stretched across his face as he gave a soft shrug, staring back at Seongho with sharp eyes.
“I don’t know baby, why don’t you stare a little longer and see if you can resist me too.” My airways are filled with beer as I choked on my drink, sitting up abruptly with my hand immediately clapping over my mouth as I struggled for breath. 
Seongho’s mouth hung open in shock, a grin shining through his cheeks, before his head slowly rolled back to me. 
“You better be getting on that, like now, or I’ll beat you to it.”
“Oh my god, can both of you please behave yourselves!?" I tried to hide my blushing face in my hands, the heat rising to my cheeks far too fast. "I think I preferred you two fighting, dear god." I mumbled.
"What? You frustrated that he's saying the words you've been too scared to, dear?" Sure enough, Minho's cocky nature wasted no time quickly returning, my eyes growing wide in shock as his head tilted with a smirk. 
"Seeeeee? There we go!" Seongho grinned like a damn idiot, clearly proud of himself. 
"Stop instigating!" I shoved him to the side, causing him to slightly topple over, supporting his weight on his elbow as he couldn't control his laughter. "You little shit." 
If I was to be completely honest, the night had been progressing much smoother than I would have initially expected. Minho seemed to be on his best behavior, except for his cocky comments that slipped into the conversation so effortlessly, and Seongho just had to show his happy, carefree side in order to avoid conflict.
If you had observed Seongho and him now, you would have never guessed about their rocky start. They piggy-backed off each other flawlessly, like they had been friends for years. 
Time felt like it had slipped through our fingers, the three of us failing to ever check a clock for awareness of just how much time we had wasted. A heated game of uno having to be cut short in fear of noise complaints, arguments and debates about the most trivial of subjects, and apparently the recurring circling back to frogs?
I was now standing before the two of them, drink in hand, as Seongho so calmly tried to assure me he was a completely reasonable drunk to deal with.
“I’m sorry?” I leaned forward, bewildered. “I’ve got to babysit you every time we walk home. You still have a traffic cone in your living room because I turned my back for two seconds.”
“Listen listen listen.” His eyes closed, head lolling to the side as he slowly waved his hands through the air “Potato potato.” My eyes squinted as I slowly tilted my head to the side, my bottle frozen in time in front of my lips before taking a drink. 
“You realize you’re supposed to pronounce it both ways, right? Not just say potato twice…” My mouth hung open as I stared at a lost Seongho, and I swore I could see sparks behind his eyes as his final two brain cells rubbed together to try and form a coherent thought. “And even then, the statement isn’t even relevant to what I was saying?”
Minho snickered beside us, mouth pressed into a firm line as he tried to hold back his laughter. I rubbed my fingers into my eyes with sigh, the arrival of dumbass drunk Seongho clearly making his appearance.
“But you got my point! D-Did you not?” His arms spread out to the side, accompanying his slurred words, as he tried to find his validation.
“Seongho… Buddy…I’m cutting you off.” My face dropped painfully as I stared at him, genuine worry for his well-being starting to creep up on me as I reached forward and pulled his bottle from his hands. Out of the corner of my eye, I can barely make out Minho, eyes glued on me and not breaking. I turned toward him with a glare, the weight of his eyes staring to drop onto me. “Can you stop staring please?”
Minho’s smirk grew once more, and the mighty desire to slap it off his face growing alongside it. His head slowly tilted, a mischievous look in his eyes.
“What? Does it make you nervous when I stare?” The question itself could be innocent, but the intent behind his eyes presented it as anything but. 
"Ya know, has anyone told you that you're an insufferable flirt when you're drunk?" I bent over with a huff, setting Seongho’s drink onto the coffee table, as I rose with hands on hips to be met with Minho standing slowly closing the space between us, that goddamn smirk still plastered across his face. 
"I think you just want me to be the bad guy to distract yourself from how bad you want me."
I told myself to look away, to break our sharp stare as the heat began rising into my cheeks, and I couldn’t even pinpoint if the fuzziness in my brain was being caused by the alcohol in my system for Minho. His lips slightly parted with a chuckle, the edge of his mouth never dropping out of that fucking smirk. His damn hair falling so effortlessly in front of his face. 
His eyes darkened as they studied my face, surely my skin was morphing into a multitude of shades of red, breath caught in my throat as I tried to search for a response.
"Has anyone told you that you fluster a bit too easily?" His head tilted slightly, absorbing the entertainment he was enjoying at my expense. 
"The sexual tension in this room is physically suffocating." Seongho grabbed his bottle off the table and leaned back into the couch, one arm draped over the back as the other poured his drink into his mouth, observing the scene unfold before him. I had briefly forgotten he was even in the room, the walls feeling like they were closing in on me just as Minho was.
"Ew." My head snapped towards Seongho, my flushed cheeks fading as my face morphed into one of disgust. Meanwhile Minho's eyes didn't leave me for a moment, continuing to stare me down.
"Then read the room and leave." Mihno’s words may have been pointed at Seongho, but they floated through the air straight to me, his gaze refusing to break.
"Okay ew, the sequel." My hands pressed into Minho's chest as I shoved him away from me. "No. Go away." 
"Whatever you say, dear." My mouth sat agape as my eyes studied different aspects of Minho’s face, the smirk stretching across his cheeks, meanwhile my brain short circuiting at the man in front of me. His head slowly tilted, brows raised, as he waited for a response. His eyes slowly scanned down my figure before meeting mine again, tongue running along the inside of his cheek with a snicker. With a scoff I pushed by him, my feet struggling to take me away as fast as possible without going into a full blown sprint. 
Tucking myself into the confines of the kitchen, I dipped my head into the fridge with the hopes of a drink, but also the possibility that the cold might knock me back into my senses. I let myself delay getting up, forcing deep breathes through the crisp air, before finally standing with a can in hand. 
“Well Seongho seems to be enjoying himself.”
“Jesus fucking christ Minho.” My hand clutched to my chest with a jump as the newly dissipated adrenaline rushed right back into my body, my other arm supporting me as I leaned into the counter. “How is it that you make no sound when you move?”
“I guess you could say it comes with the job.” His mask faded slightly for just a moment as he stared down to the bottle in his hand, before snapping himself out of it, that smirk spreading back across his face as he tilted the bottle in my direction before taking a swig. “You should honestly get better at that, I still hear you fumbling around the house in the middle of the night.” 
My lips pursed as I stared him down with narrow eyes, the familiar Minho returning before me.
“What?” His smile morphed into lost confusion at my glare, dropping the bottle from his lips. “Did I play along too well?” 
My expression quickly flattened, still not saying a word as I pulled myself up onto the counter and rested my elbows on my knees.
“You call that playing along?”
“Well… yeah. I thought that things needed to go better tonight so I was gonna make sure he enjoyed himself and so I just ran with it and I figured he probably shouldn’t hate me if we’re gonna have to work with him and-”
“Minho.” His mashed up ramblings stopped as his eyes met mine, gaze in a lost stare as his lips slightly parted, frozen in place. “You’re fine, it’s fine. Just damn, really caught me off guard there.”  I leaned back into the upper cabinets, crossing one leg over the other as I stared into the blurry distance, trying to blink to focus my vision.
“Oh really?” He slowly stepped closer, that fucking smug smile returning in a flash. “Are you saying you didn’t like it then?”
“Oh nope nope nope.” I placed my hand on his chest and he closed the distance between us, promptly pulling myself off the counter and pushing him away from me. “Nope nope. We’re not doing this again. It’s bedtime.” He chuckled as I left him behind in the kitchen, stopping the moment I entered the living room, witnessing Seongho out cold on the couch. I knelt before him, trying to nudge him awake.
“Hey Seongho, wake up. You’re sleeping in my bed so Minho can keep his couch.” His eyes stayed glued shut, a groan leaving his lips as he rolled over and faced away from me. “You little shit… Seongho!” I nudged him a bit harder, still to no avail. I stood, hands on my hips with a groan. “How the fuck did you even fall asleep so fast?”
“It’s really no problem, I can just sleep on the floor.” Minho spoke up behind me as he made his way into the room, leaning against the side of the couch.
“Hell no! I’m not letting someone who’s a guest in my home sleep on the floor.”
“Okay? And I’m not letting you sleep on the floor in your own home? Especially with an injured shoulder.”
“Just go get in the bed, Minho, please.” My shoulders dropped in exhaustion, not wanting to be having this debate when I would much rather be knocked out like Seongho.
“The only way I’m sleeping in that bed is if you are too.” I froze, blinking at him as I struggled to comprehend the words that just came out of him, he simply returned a nonchalant shrug. “Those are my terms.”    
I looked down to my feet before squeezing my eyes shut, rubbing the tips of my fingers into their sockets with a groan.
“Fine, fine.” I looked up to him with the shoo of the hand. “Go, I’ll turn everything off and be there in a moment.”
“So help me god if I find you sleeping on the floor-”
“I’m not trying to trick you Minho, just go get in the damn bed.” With a sharp stare he grabbed his bag, before turning down the hall to my room. My eyes fell back on Seongho peacefully sleeping on the couch like a rock, “I hate you for this.”
With the apartment fully darkened, and the doors locks double checked, I hesitated before pushing my bedroom door open. This shouldn’t be freaking me out, why is this freaking me out? 
As I stepped in, the room was softly lit by my bedside light, Minho propped against the headboard having quickly changed back into his sweats and t-shirt, finger scrolling away on his phone.
“Well thank you for listening for once.” He didn’t even look up from his phone, unaware of the glare he received before I crossed to my dresser, pulling out shorts and a t-shirt.
I quickly retreated from the room in silence, shuffling into the bathroom to change. As I came back, Minho placed his phone upon the nightstand, starting to settle himself into the bed.
After hesitation, I slipped under the covers, pulling the blanket up to my chin as I rolled onto my side and away from Minho, silent as I settled myself into position. 
With a soft chuckle the light flicked off, Minho shuffling into the sheets behind me within the darkness.
“Don’t be taking this as a victory.” I grumbled, trying to find a comfortable position that left plenty of room between the two of us, his soft snicker quite evident in the silence.
“Whatever, it’s a victory in my book.”
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foodsies4me · 27 days
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March Malec fic rec!
A very big thank you to @just-add-butter for this month's suggestion: Animal transformations! As usual, I'm keeping it to one fic per author, bust several of these authors have multiple fics that apply and even more fics that are wonderful. And, if you want to add you own recs in the replies, tags or reblogs please feel free to do so! (Also if someone has a theme for April please tell me so I can get that list out a bit sooner than at the very end of the month, lol)
I have tagged the authors whose Tumblr account I know, but if you'd prefer I not tag you, please tell me so! I don't want these to be annoying for the authors.
One-shots:
Hop into my arms by @malecfan09: Magnus gets turned into a bunny and it's adorable, what more do you want me to say? This is just fluff, fluff and more fluff.
Summary
Magnus has been magically turned into a bunny by a rogue warlock and Alec looks after him until the spell wears off. *** Flufftober 2023: Day 18 - protecting and Day 20- reading together
Shake Your Fetters Loose by Dreadwyrms: Alec gets turned into a dog and Magnus is NOT a dog person. Post canon with married Malec and again lots of fluff.
Summary:
An investigation into a rogue warlock goes very, very wrong, and Magnus learns he’ll never ever really be a dog person. AKA the one in which Alec accidentally gets turned into a dog.
Everybody (does not) want to be a cat by Falazure: One of the many, many Magnus or Alec get turned into a cat fics on this list.
Summary:
Magnus has suffered worse things in his long life, but being turned into a cat was still up-there on the list of rather annoying inconveniences.
Deepest desires (give in) by @myulalie: Another kitty Magnus fic based on a drawing by @misawkward.
Summary:
Were-cats are good luck by shadowhunters' standards, so when a black, jewelry covered cat appears at the Institute, Alec pays him his respects. He needs it, considering the messes Clary and Jace keep dragging him in. Alec certainly doesn't expect the were-cat to take a liking to him, and even less to start flirting with him...
the catastrophe of success by @alexanderlightweight: A personal favourite Magnus cat fic of mine!
Summary:
Magnus Bane was the most eligible bachelor in the Downworld, sought after by everyone from mundanes to Seelie Princes but a man tired after centuries of heartbreak. In an attempt to gain a respite from his admirers, Magnus proposed a deal. A key to his loft and a path through his wards guarded by his cat, if anyone managed to take the key, Magnus would grant them a date.
Multi-chapter fics or series:
The dragon!Alec series by @to-the-stars-writing, who is perhaps the queen of the dragon Alec fics. I have read and reread every single one of them.
Summary of Building a Clan (aka part one in this series)
Keeping secrets was never easy. Alec should know – he was keeping quite a few. Sometimes it was hard to remember who knew what secrets. The chance of slipping up, the damage that could cause, was unthinkable. There were too many things about himself that he couldn’t let just anyone know. Too many things that marked him as wrong or different, even if he didn’t understand why sometimes. His family were the only ones to know his biggest secret, one that could get him killed if he wasn’t careful. Bad enough that his parents had once been a part of the Circle and extremely close to Valentine himself. If any Shadowhunters – or, Angel forbid, the Clave – ever found out that Maryse had allowed Valentine to inject her with something, mixing what she’d been told was more Angel blood with her unborn child, the ramifications could be catastrophic for their family. More so if they ever found out it wasn’t Angel blood that he’d injected the fetus with. It was dragon blood.
The Warlock's Cat by @dreaming-marchling, which I already put on my end-of-the-year rec list, but it deserves to be here again because So Good. Kitty Alec fic!
Summary
Pain raced up his arm. It was a sharp throb that radiated out. More than a broken bone. When Alec went to flex his hand to see how bad it was he couldn’t. His eyes snapped to his own hand and there was no hand. There was no him. By the Angel… Alec scrambled up on uncoordinated legs – too many legs! – that trembled underneath him. He panted and looked down at himself as best he could. Dark fur. Two paws, one still scorching with pain. The ground not even a foot below him even though he was standing as tall as he could. Reality was screaming at him and Alec couldn’t accept it. His brain couldn’t wrap itself around what was in front of him. That bastard had turned him into a cat.
Shoelaces and Precious Metals by @violet-renegade: Another dragon!Alec fic that is angsty and sweet and just a very nice read.
Summary
Magnus loves Alexander, his proud dragon Shadowhunter, and he knows that Shadowhunters don't display their relationships with collars the way Downworlders do. Magnus always thought he understood what that meant for him and Alec. As it turns out, Magnus didn't understand at all In the early months of their relationship, Alec had let himself wonder about what kind of collar Magnus might offer him. Sometimes, he'd even indulge in the thought that Magnus would coordinate Alec’s collars with his own outfit, marking it clear who Alec belonged to every time they went out. And then Magnus doesn't ask. And doesn't ask. And doesn't ask.
Hearth and Home by @molly_jae: And another Dragon!Alec fic. Yes there are a lot of dragon fics!
Summary of Ichor and Cuddles which is the first part in this two-part series:
“Alexander, I love you,” Magnus sighs, throwing his head back with a thud against the hardwood floor. “But unlike your lovely scales, ichor does not just slide off my limited edition Marc Jacobs jacket, or these pants you love to see my ass in.”
The Warlock's Familiar by @harkasun: Another cat!Alec fic!
Summary:
For over five years, Alec Lightwood has been denied his birth right: that of a familiar to be claimed by a warlock. When he finally finds that warlock, having talked him down from the ledge of Brooklyn Bridge, he despairs to find that the man wants nothing to do with him. With rising pressures from his family, and his warlock’s steadfast determination to shut him out, Alec must talk his way into Magnus’s home and heart. The only question is: how far will he go to claim his fate?
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