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stories-and-chaos · 4 months

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Tarnished

[Helluva Boss AU where Blitzø’s childhood theft from Stolas’ palace is discovered and major consequences ensue for everyone involved. Concept inspired by this AU, Push. Trying to stick with established lore but taking some liberties to make the drama work. Multiple headcanons from various sources I’ve come across included as suits the story. Starts roughly five years before Murder Family, I’m making assumptions about the timeline]

[18+ rating for language, implied sexual content, violence, alcohol consumption and general Hellaverse-ness]

[Part 1/?? Word count: 3761]

———————

Moxxie’s back slammed into the rough wooden bed frame as he heard the distinctive clang of prison bars rattling shut. He still couldn’t believe Chaz had just left him there. Grabbed the goods and ran. The imp realized his boyfriend was just as shitty out of bed as he was in it. He started tearing up as he climbed on the bottom bunk. Moxxie knew his dad wouldn’t bail him out or anything. He might have been the boss’s only (legitimate) son but he was also the most junior member of the family. And Crimson was not a sentimental imp.

Moxxie had been caught red clawed too, pinned by the security gate. No need for any formalities like a trial in the Greed Ring. A mugshot, strip down, and forced into a jumpsuit before the cops tossed him in a cell. Of course, Greed’s police force was basically a mafia on a wider scale.

“Soooo, what’re you in for?” A voice drawled from the top bunk. Moxxie hadn’t realized he had a cellmate. Oh crumbs, had the other demon heard him crying?! If there was a way to ensure you didn’t get out of prison in one piece, it was letting others know how weak you were the moment you were locked up. His tail reflexively whipped closer, as if trying to hide himself.

“Okay, not much of a talker, are you?” The voice almost sounded jovial. In prison? A squeak of the mattress and the other prisoner launched himself to the floor with theatrical flair. Before he could do more than sit up and blink the tall imp gripped his hand to shake. Not the vice-like grip his father used, hard enough to make claw shaped indents into the other’s hand. It was a firm, friendly shake.

“I'm Blitzø, the "o" is silent. I'm sure we're going to get along just fine. So, what's your deal? What'd you do? Who'd you diddle? You look like someone good with a gun. You look like someone who could shoot up an office-“ Moxxie tried to interject, but the other imp plowed on.

“-and I hope you are 'cuz I got a plan to get us out of this dump but I'm going to need some help, you think you can give me a hand? I need to get out to my daughter. The babysitter will kill me if I don't get back soon. Also I got some business scheduled in Pride that I gotta get back for. Do you like kids? 'Cause lemme tell 'ya. They're a-fucking-dorable.” Moxxie felt his eyes warming up with more tears but his lips were forming a shaky smile. He realized he hadn’t smiled like this since… well he could barely remember. At first he thought since Chaz ditched him, but really it was since his mom “disappeared.”

It took a couple of days for the cellmates to enact Blitzø’s plan. Moxxie had to learn the complex’s layout and they had to make sure they could get to a weapon cache. Their escape was successful, both of them got banged up, and Moxxie’s body count tripled as a result of the escapade.

A few things they learned about each other: Blitzø’s circus background made him extremely agile and prone to acrobatic feats in a fight. He was batshit crazy once the ichor started flowing but he kept his eye out on his partner. The scarred imp backed up Moxxie more than once when he floundered while they fled for the Pride Ring. His plans were grandiose but he was quick to adapt and quicker to protect his cohort.

On the other claw, Moxxie was even better with firearms than Blitzø thought. So long as the kid kept his composure, he didn’t miss a shot. It was almost magickal and he saw more magick than most of their kind. The kid seemed quiet and well mannered for the most part. He could get absolutely fucking feral in a fight, becoming an even better shot if that was possible. But he was insecure and desperate for approval. The pure shock on his face when Blitzø told him “nice work Mox,” after they got out told the older imp that he’d probably never been praised in his life.

One bonus to no trial before you were thrown in prison? No one was too keen on dragging you back if you got out. Especially if you massacred 80% of the guards on your way out, traumatized 18%, and awakened some very interesting feelings in the final 2%. It wasn’t worth spending hard grifted money chasing down someone who would just do the same thing even if you managed to catch them. If they’d run off from Mammon, the escaping prisoners would be hunted down. But otherwise, even the police mafia didn’t give that much of a shit.

The duo had snagged a couple of overcoats so their bright orange jumpsuits would stand out less. The plan was to get to Blitzø’s apartment, check up on his kid, grab some cash to rent Moxxie a room for the night and change before Blitzø had to be at his appointment.

Except once they got to the Pride Ring, Blitzø started freaking the fuck out. “Shitshitshitshitshiiiiiiitfuckingdammit.” A stream of profanities just kept coming out of his mouth as Blitzø picked up his pace.

“Um, sir?” It was drilled into Moxxie to address superiors as sir or ma’am; Blitzø had taken charge during their escape and didn’t seem to mind being called sir. “What happened, you started panicking once we got here.” This was presumably the older imp’s home turf, yet he was more off balance than at any other point in the past three days.

“FUUUUUUUCKokay Mox, change of plans.” He spun around and grasped the shorter imp by the shoulders. “I lost track of the time and I can’t miss this appointment. Do you know anyone in this ring that can put you up for the night?” Blitzø doubted it. It seemed like the kid had stayed in Greed up until now. A quick head shake confirmed that. “You got two choices, cause I don’t have time to get you someplace first. You can head off alone and we’ll meet up tomorrow or you can come with me, play along, and hope it’s not worse than prison.”

Moxxie was taken aback; first off that was the most words in a row without swears he’d heard from Blitzø. Second, “Where are you going that’s worse than prison?”

“A Goetian estate.”

Moxxie’s jaw dropped. He might as well have said he was meeting up with Lucifer. Yet… Blitzø had an appointment to be there. And it was important enough that he couldn’t even check on his kid first. Not to mention, wandering around an unfamiliar area wearing a prison jumpsuit was next to suicidal. “I’ll stick with you sir.”

“Ballsy! I knew I fucking liked you Moxxie.” He whirled around and started loping toward the fancy ass side of the city. “Keep up Mox! We gotta go!”

It took about half an hour of running and weaving through crowds but they made it before…whatever time Blitzø was so intent on outrunning. He had started running even faster about halfway, his desperation more than apparent. Once he passed through the gates, all the tension left his body. He slumped to the ground; Moxxie hesitated as he gaped at the ornate fencing. The gate and elegant fence had the symbol of the Goetia family (a crowned heart) emblazoned every few yards.

Moxxie had grown up a privileged life, especially for an imp. Servants, tutors, a well stocked manor. But the building in front of him was on another level. It was more of a palace than anything; multistoried with heraldic banners hanging, multiple manicured gardens, statues strategically placed and the master’s sigil glowing prominently on the wall. And that was just what he could glimpse in the full moon’s light. This was the difference between money and royalty.

“Last chance Moxxie. C’mon in or head off somewhere and I’ll meet you at my office at noon tomorrow. If you’re still standing around here in a few, those fuckers will drag you with me anyway.” He gulped and stepped onto the grounds next to the other imp. “Still ballsy.” Blitzø’s grin was back.

“Here’s what’s going to go down. Any minute now some beefy hellhound fucks are gonna show up to haul me in. They might grab you, might let you walk. Either way, keep your mouth shut and just back me up if I ask. Hopefully we won’t see that overdressed bitch tonight but if she’s around don’t make eye contact. And-“ whatever he was about to add was cut off as four hellhounds jogged up.

Blitzø wasn’t kidding about them being beefy. They were all different breeds but they all had biceps as big as his head, wrapped in artfully ripped suits. The matching suits, earpieces, sunglasses, and crisp posture gave them an air of professionalism that was a sharp contrast to his dad’s goons.

“Oh look, it’s the Chucklefuck squad and the Douchenugget duo. Who’d you piss off to land the night shift?” Blitzø taunted the Hounds, seemingly indifferent to the fact any one of them could snap him in half. Two of them grabbed Blitzø by the arms, grinning sadistically at the thought of manhandling the smaller demons.

“Lady Stella specifically requested we escort you in, Blitzø.” Blitzø winced “Satan fucking dammit.” Apparently Lady Stella was the overdressed bitch he’d mentioned. “She’s got a party tonight so she doesn’t have to hear your scrawny ass getting pounded. But she knew how much you’d like friends to bring you home.” The Hellhound punctuated his words with a sharp snap of his teeth.

Home? Moxxie backpedaled in confusion, only to bump into the leg of another security Hound. Said Hound grabbed him around the torso, easily pinning both arms and leaving Moxxie’s hooves dangling far from the ground. He struggled, trying to at least get back to the ground. The size difference and Moxxie’s lack of weapons meant he didn’t stand much chance at the moment. The pair with Blitzø took the lead, not caring that his dragging hooves were tearing furrows into the lawns or creating sparks on the paths.

Blitzø let them, worn out from the prison break and subsequent dash back to Pride. He was too tired to try to keep pace with his “escorts.” He kept glancing back to Moxxie, trying to reassure him. The younger imp was clearly terrified. He couldn’t really help the kid at the moment; the bulldog faced Hellhound carrying him lifted his lip whenever Blitzø looked back.

Fuck this fucking farce and fuck Paimon with a rusty crucifix for doing this, Blitzø thought to himself for the ten thousandth time in his life. Best to go through the motions as quickly as possible. The group arrived at one of the drawing rooms and Blitzø was dumped unceremoniously on the thick carpet.

The whirlwind trip through the estate proved to Moxxie that royalty had a whole different definition of luxury from what he knew. Paintings, mosaics, sculptures, exotic plants were just the beginning as they rushed through hallways wider than his bedroom at his dad’s. He’d lost count of how many doors they passed before they reached one in particular.

Blitzø was thrown to the ground but the one holding Moxxie didn’t loosen his grip. Blitzø glared back at the Hellhounds, hissing. The Hounds responded with low growls. Everyone went silent when a lithe figure snapped the cover of a book shut and unfolded itself from a lounge by the fireplace. This had to be one of the Goetia, presumably the master of this estate.

His extreme height was the first thing Moxxie noticed. Moxxie was about average for an imp in height; the glimpses he’d seen of imp servants in this maze were all much smaller. Blitzø was on the taller end of the spectrum but the Hounds were easily double his height. This royal demon towered over them all. You could stack Moxxie, Blitzø, and even one of the small servants on a Hellhound’s shoulders and they still would barely be eye level with the demon’s glowing eyes.

At least the bottom set. He had two sets, a large bottom pair and a thinner set above that could have been mistaken for elegant eyebrows if they hadn’t been glowing red. Glowing eyes weren't unusual for hellborn, but the deep red pupil-less aura was still intimidating. The white facial disc only enhanced that aura with its contrast.

What could be seen of the demon’s form was covered in smooth grey feathers, sheening in the firelight. The plush robe he wore was lightly cinched at the waist and barely clung to the shoulders, showing the feathers covered the majority of his body. He stalked deliberately to where Blitzø was climbing to his hooves, features set in a stern expression.

“St- Master Stolas,” Blitzø stuttered as the avian demon loomed above him. Master?! Oh crumbs, what in Satan’s name is going on?! Was all that talk about a daughter, starting up a business, growing up in the circus, everything just a lie? “I got back as quick as I could, I didn’t even have a chance to check on Loonie first…” Stolas cut him off with a gesture. Apparently the daughter talk wasn’t a lie at least.

Stolas glanced at the Hound carrying Moxxie. “Put the little one down,” he ordered in clipped, cultured tones. “I’ll deal with them from here.” The Hounds exchanged glances and grins. Suddenly Moxxie was on the ground when his captor opened his arms. “As you wish, Prince Stolas.” The imp was getting serious mood whiplash. Stolas wasn’t just a member of the Goetia but one of the princes. Maybe Blitzø was right; this was worse than prison.

The guards hadn’t left the room before Stolas leaned over Blitzø, foreheads nearly touching. “What the FUCK were you doing in the Greed Ring that landed in you prison!” The Hellhounds grins grew wider as they shut the doors and Moxxie was sure he heard the slap of a high five. “Are you not being careful enough in the other Rings? You know if you get in trouble I have to get you out of it. And we don’t want that, do we my itty bitty imp?” Stolas punctuated his words with taps between Blitzø’s nostrils. His words were furious but Moxxie could see his expression softening once the doors clicked shut. He had plenty of experience being berated and threatened by Crimson, but he was getting so many mixed signals he didn’t know what to do.

“A job went bad, Master. It won’t happen again.” Despite just having a royal yell at him, Blitzø’s smirk was back. Without guards around he was able to give his companion a double thumbs up while replying. His voice sounded utterly defeated but his posture had perked up.

“Luckily for you, what passes for authority in the Greed Ring isn’t likely to give a shit about a couple of escapee imps. Speaking of which,” four dazzling red eyes locked onto Moxxie. “Who is this that you’ve dragged along?”

“Moxxie got tossed into my cell, I couldn’t just fucking leave him there. He’s a crazy good shot, figured he’d be a good candidate for that project we talked about.”

“Hmmmm,” Stolas seemed to be looking the young imp over. It was hard to tell without any pupils. “We will discuss this later. For now,” the prince continued in a haughty tone, “we need to establish the punishment for your little slip up during your extraneous activities. Both of you, follow me.” Stolas turned, his robe and tail feathers swirling dramatically around him. Moxxie looked nervously in Blitzø’s direction. There was a faint glow under the older imp’s shirt collar as he replied “Yes Master Stolas.” He gestured for Moxxie to follow, not at all concerned about what Stolas might have planned as “punishment.”

Apparently the room they’d been delivered to was the first and most public in the master suite. They entered what looked like a well appointed bedroom with a huge canopied bed adorned with blankets and a nest of deep cushions. There was a bookshelf inset in an alcove next to a chaise lounge and chairs, a small desk, and hints of a bathtub on a raised dais shrouded by curtains. Candles and moonlight made the Goetia emblem glimmer wherever it was stamped or embroidered.

The door locked shut behind them, nearly making Moxxie jump out of his skin. As soon as the door was shut, Stolas swooped down to Blitzø, cupping the imp’s cheeks with a tenderness that made his yelling in the drawing room seems like a hallucination. “Are you alright dearest?” the prince cooed as he stroked Blitzø’s head. “Mmph, I’m fine Stolas, really.” Blitzø’s voice was muffled from Stolas’ talons smushing his face. “Just tired from that last sprint. Almost didn’t make it in time. Fucking Cinderhella bullshit.”

“I’m sorry darling. I’ll keep working on it. I’ve been so worried the past few days.” Apparently satisfied that Blitzø was unhurt, the owl demon moved to nuzzling and preening the imp’s particolor skin.

Blitzø gasped at the soft feathers brushing his neck. “Stolas, if you wanna fuck as part of my “punishment” I’m on board, but I don’t think Moxxie wants to watch.” He looked at the other imp over the prince’s head. His face was flushed and a lazy lascivious smile spread across his lips. “Unless you wanna watch Mox. I’ve always liked an audience.” He waggled his eyebrows; Moxxie couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

Stolas’ eyes jerked open. He let out a surprised hoot before shooting up to his full height. “Ah! Um, yes, o-of course! We can pick this up later Blitzy.” Blitzy? Within moments Stolas had shifted from a pissed off royal yelling at his property to a flustered loverboy using pet names. “Apologizes for not properly introducing myself earlier.” He bowed with a deep flourish, putting his face eye level to Moxxie. “My name is Stolas, Prince of Ars Goetia.”

Blitzø stretched, popping vertebrae all down his spine and tail. “Didn’t your daddy tell you not to bow to imps?” The same jovial tone Moxxie heard when they first met was back in his voice.

Stolas snorted. “My father, the shit eating bastard that he is, can go fuck himself. Preferably with something full of splinters to join the stick up his arse.” The prince was just as foul-mouthed as Blitzø, with the addition of a fancy vocabulary. He guided Blitzø to the lounge and offered a nearby easy chair to Moxxie. It was built for a Goetia, meaning any imp had to jump to climb up and their feet would dangle childlike once seated. However Stolas produced a step stool from the book alcove, so he could seat himself with more dignity.

“Hi, I’m Moxxie Knolastname.” Hopefully neither of them would recognize the name of one of the Greed Ring’s crime families. “Sir, what the fuck is going on? You didn’t mention any of this before we got to the gates. What was all that about?” Moxxie gestured wildly to the rest of the palace, hoping to indicate everything that had just happened.

“Eh, guess you deserve some explanation. Not the best time but fuck it.” Blitzø rubbed at his forehead, specifically the All Imp Circus brand in the middle. In the space of a blink it changed from a black skull faced heart to a white heart topped by a crown, flanked by decorative lines. “Short version, my dad fucked me over and sold me to the Goetia. His dad,” he jerked a thumb at the lanky owl reclining next to him, “decided to add to the jackassery and bound us.”

“And I am not about to copy his example so I give my darling Blitzy as much free reign as I can manage.” Stolas wrapped his arms and legs around Blitzø with a look of glee. It was simultaneously tender, protective, and possessive. “Unfortunately, members of both my family and staff are quick to spread word to my wilted prick of a father and other members of Ars Goetia, so we maintain a semblance of the master/slave dynamic outside my chambers. Hence, all that.” Stolas vaguely waved in the same direction as Moxxie had before latching back onto Blitzø. “Eugh, Blitzy, you smell awful. That prison cannot have been sanitary. Please get cleaned up dearest, you and… Moxxie, was it? Hopefully we have something clean that will fit you; you’re a bit taller than much of my household staff.”

“I’m sure we’ve got some of my old stuff that’ll work. But seriously Stolas, I couldn’t check on Loonie before this. Can I pop out real qui-”

“Loona is fine.” Stolas interjected with a comforting tone. “I had one of the maids check up on her and the ‘babysitter.’ She let them know you were delayed and offered overtime pay to the young lady.” The maid, one of the few who was loyal to Stolas and Blitzø, relayed that the imp girl, while possessing a distinct country charm, was “thoroughly pissed” at having to watch over an angsty teenager without pay. She’d been all smiles again when informed of the extra money she was being advanced.

Blitzø took a deep breath of relief. He’d adopted the nearly adult Hellhound just a few months ago and they were still getting used to each other. He didn’t know what she’d do on her own yet, hence the babysitter. She was an imp from Wrath he’d gotten to know during the Harvest Festival Stolas had to officiate. She decimated opponents in the Pain Games so Blitzø knew she could handle just about anything.

“Thanks Floof,” he gave Stolas a quick frenching before heading through an inconspicuous door near the bed. He pushed Moxxie along and heard Stolas’ trilling voice call out. “Make sure you put those jumpsuits in the laundry hamper. I look forward to having a little prison bitch around later.” All of Blitzø’s spines stood up at the thought and a tingling warmth raced over him. Not about to let Stolas get the last word, he shot back through the closing door, “I’m sure Mox’s will fit you like those slutty rompers you like to prance around in.” He could hear hooting chuckles from the other room while Moxxie clapped his hands over his head.

—————

Moxxie blinked as the lights flickered on. As if one suite of rooms wasn’t enough, here was essentially an apartment sized for imps. It was much like a studio apartment with one large area for sleeping, eating, relaxing, and a mini kitchen. The furnishings weren’t a match for the rest of the palace, but decent and sturdy. There was a closet and one other door leading to the bathroom. No windows. The only exit was through the master suite. Moxxie started breathing hard as he realized this was basically an upgraded cell.

“Yeah, I know it’s kinda freaky. But it’s one of the safest places in the building.” Blitzø opened the closet and started tossing clothes on the bed. “We set this up after Stolas married that bitchy feather duster. Only people that can get in are me, Stolas, his kid, and one of the maids. Oh, and the people I bring in.” He took the pile of clothes and dropped them on Moxxie. “These are all too small for me now. We could raid the servant’s closets buuuuuuuut…screw that. Now let's see if there’s anything to eat.” A quick look in the fridge produced beers and a comically large cheese wedge. “Oh fuck yes, that woman deserves a raise! Or a good dicking if she wants it again.” Blitzø had the cheese in one hand, a beer in the other hand that was unzipping the prison wear and his tail wrapped around another beer. “You wanna eat before you clean up? There’s more beer, some fried chicken, and I think a salad if you want it.” He stuck out a forked tongue at the thought of vegetables. “Maybe a good enough fuck will get her to stop putting salads in here.”

Food, real food not prison slop, sounded great but a bit of time alone sounded better. “I’ll wash up first sir, I can’t stand this thing anymore.” Blitzø chomped away while giving him another thumbs up. Moxxie caught a glimpse of white scars covering patches of the other imp’s neck, arms, and torso, and what looked like a gold choker at his throat. He closed the bathroom door and dumped the clothes onto a bench. The bathroom wasn’t ostentatious like what he glimpsed in Stolas’s room. It had all the basics in a reasonable size. One thing he did notice was the horse decor. Horses and horseshoes everywhere. The rubber devilduckie was even a cowboy.

It was probably more polite to take a quick shower. Moxxie needed some time to regain his footing though, so he soaked in a bath. He’d been off balance since crossing the gates. Of course, nothing could have prepared him for anything he’d come across here. From everything he’d picked up Blitzø and Stolas were in a shitty situation and trying to make the best of it. It didn’t mean Moxxie had to stick around though.

Yeah, the older imp had broken him out of prison and talked about hiring Moxxie at his new startup. But he also hadn’t mentioned anything about being connected to Hell’s royal families.

Then again, Moxxie hadn’t mentioned his mafia family. He really didn’t want to either. He’d be just fine if his dad thought he died in the prison riot they’d caused during the escape. He could disappear in Pride and leave his own fucked up family behind. Blitzø and presumably Stolas were grateful for his help. Even if he didn’t want to work for them in the end, they probably wouldn’t just kick him to the curb. He wasn’t good at making deals. Crimson hadn’t let him join any important talks yet. But maybe he could leverage some cash out of the pair before finding his own way.

That would have to wait for the morning at earliest. From the sounds of it, Stolas was very enthusiastic about keeping their “appointment” tonight. With at least a glimmer of a plan, Moxxie finished washing and started digging through the clothes. There were a lot of t shirts, tanks, and leather pants. Skinny fit pants at that. Almost all the shirts had some sort of horse design; from one that said “Wild Horse” in messy red letters to one with a trio of sparkly pastel horses rearing under a full moon. Eventually he found a button down with a tailcoat that was pretty close to his normal clothes. It wouldn’t be tailored perfectly but it would do for the morning. For the night he found pajama pants with a horseshoe pattern that he didn’t mind sleeping in. He wasn’t about to sleep nude in a room with a horny couple he barely knew one wall away.

“All yours sir.” Blitzø was flopped on the couch, having finished both the beers and cheese. He was working his way through beer number three, which he took with him to the shower. Moxxie rummaged through the fridge, finding not only what Blitzø had mentioned but the makings of sandwiches and a container of soup. A little more digging around the miniature kitchen and he found various dry goods that would make a decent meal. By the time Blitzø came back he was plating the spaghetti with cheese sauce he’d made. He topped it off with some chopped up fried chicken for some added protein. He made a sizable batch; he doubted a cheese wedge and beer was enough for Blitzø.

Blitzø himself emerged from the bathroom, dressed in horse print boxers (which didn’t hide his slight erection) and a fitted black tank. “Thank fuck, Stolas was right about the stink. Laundry’s gonna have fun with those jumpsuits.” His nostrils flared suddenly. “What the dick? Where’d you get all this Mox?” His eyes were shining at the food and Moxxie could swear he was drooling.

“In your kitchen sir. There’s plenty of dry ingredients for easy meals, probably so you don’t have to disturb the main kitchen during your… ‘appointments.’ I would have liked some mushrooms or fresh herbs for flavoring, the ground and dried ones just don’t quite measure up but I can understand the maid not wanting to have too much perishable food here if your stays aren’t consistent. In any case making a bechamel sauce is fairly simple, it is one of the mother sauces after all and the cheese was perfect for melting into it. I did cheat with the chicken and used the microwave but it works out since there’s not too much cookware here either-“

“Wait wait wait. You made this?” Moxxie nodded. Blitzø yanked open the door and yelled “FLOOF CHECK THIS SHIT OUT MOXXIE CAN COOK!”

There was an undignified squawk before the owl demon cleared his throat. “I hope this is more impressive than the ‘ghetto nachos’ you presented me with.” He had to dip his head to enter the room but once he was in the ceiling was high enough that he didn’t quite brush it with his crest feathers. “Oh! Oh my! That looks delightful! And it smells excellent.” He closed his bottom set of eyelids and inhaled deeply.

“Hey! Ghetto nachos are damn tasty.”

“I’m not saying they aren’t but microwaving processed cheese slices onto tortilla chips does not count as cooking. This on the other hand,” the prince opened his eyes, a pleased expression that had nothing to do with sensuality on his face. “This is incredible. Do I detect some mustard added to the bechamel?”

Moxxie hadn’t expected anyone to notice. “Yes, your highness. With the chicken already being breaded, I felt it would compliment nicely.” He’d never been able to talk to anyone about cuisine before. Everyone at his father’s house had laughed at him. Maybe his mom would have liked to talk about it…

“Please, call me Stolas in private. Might I try a taste?” Moxxie twirled noodles around a fork, making sure both meat and sauce were included. Stolas savored the bite, his eyes closing and his feathers fluffing up. “As delicious as I hoped. As I’ve had dinner already, I won’t keep you from such a well made meal.” He nuzzled the base of Blitzø’s horn before bowing out of the room. “I’ll be waiting Blitzyyyyy.”

Blitzø was already diving headfirst into his plate. “Christ on a stick Moxxie, this is amazing. And that’s not just a week of prison food talking.” How he could taste anything shoveling his food in his mouth that fast, Moxxie didn’t know. He did notice that Blitzø was eating with more enthusiasm than at any other meal they’d shared.

Before Moxxie had more than half his portion, Blitzø was slurping down the last noodle.”That was great, thanks Mox.” He dumped dishes into the sink. Stifling a yawn, he headed back to the master suite. “Make yourself comfortable. Sheets should be clean.” That lascivious grin came back. “Unless watching is the kinda shit you’re into. Stolas’ bed’s big enough for all of us if you feel like joining.” Moxxie nearly choked on his pasta.

A/N: I hope everyone enjoys this! The fic is in process and currently around 25k words so there’s a lot more coming. Next part will open up with NSFW content, heads up.

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#helluva boss #helluva blitzo #helluva stolas #helluva moxxie #blitzo x stolas #stolitz #fanfic #helluva fanfiction #helluva au #writing #hellaverse #mature reading

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cherrysoulth · 15 days

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THE WAITER'S - CHAPTER 5: DESTINY'S FOOL

🍵 Be careful with this green beverage 🍵

💕Pairing: Jimin x Reader x Jungkook

✏️Genre/au: Angst, Romance, Slice of life with some action, Smut

✏️Rating: PG 18+, explicit

📝Word count: 3761

⚠️Chapter warnings: possessiveness, jealousy, rivalry, provocations

<<<𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 5 | 𝕸𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 7>>>

Chapter 6 Ambitions

Monday morning was hectic, if you would have stepped on a nail during the work day, you would have probably not noticed until you were home and out of the frenzy. The numbness to the stress, to which you were used to, couldn’t silence the reminder of Saturday night. Every time you saw your reflection, your eyes would trail on your throat, where the concealer was hiding a prominent hickey that Jimin had left. If you dared to touch it, even the slightest, a flood of memories would send you back to that moment.

The smoothness of his skin under your digits. The smell of his skin at his clavicle where a faint flush of perfume lingered, mixing with his own scent. The taste of it when you nibbled on him at the chest, the shoulders. The sight of his toned body over yours, that angelical face duality with those sharp lusty eyes. The sound of his breathing, his grunts, his voice when he spoke, and the undertones of it echoing in your ears like a melody. The way the world seemed to stop and mute for you to revive all those sensations, drove you crazy, hitting south.

By the time Friday came, you were so fed up with it, your cynicism to what came upon you made you question if you weren’t in some sort of trance, hallucinating. Two hours into the office, and you were ready to be checked into an asylum. The irony of it was that, for an instant, you wished that was the case.

When Jungkook entered the hallway of the law firm you worked in, you were handing some paperwork to a workmate.It looked like Jungkook's Chairman, with a team of four surrounding him, was speaking to your boss with her secretary working quickly to take notes. You were at a loss of words, again, calculating if it was real, or your brain had melted with your case on gun trafficking. After losing contact for almost two years, he was there, fresh as ever and ready to kill with the looks. More built, more mature, more handsome, and more attractive. Wearing a professional suit in grey with a matching silk shirt and tie, he looked just as you'd imagined he would as a CEO of a company. Which he turned out to be.

Your skin crawled, and you damned yourself when your coworker called your attention back to him and smiled politely before commenting on the content of the papers. It turned out to be a futile effort because another coworker rushed to you and told you Eunyeji, your boss, wanted you in the main meeting room immediately. Then you saw Jungkook’s boss leave with one of his team members towards the elevator where two black-suited bodyguards were waiting for him. It felt odd, but you barely had time to think twice when you were rushed by your coworker.

As you entered, you saw the way Jungkook sat like he owned the place, confidence oozing out of his every pore. Your boss expressed she wanted you to be a consultant for the assigned team. It was partially due to your workaholic personality that you had gained a name for yourself at that early stage in your career, which made her think of you for the case. The good memory and your capacity to defend or accuse at court with a high range of success were qualities to value in any case, but mostly because she didn’t want you dropping your many assignments for a magnate who only needed paperwork management so far.

He kept glancing at you as you stayed behind your superior during the meeting, wanting for once to get business over quickly, if only to escape his intensity. The joke was on you when that same glancing over had your boss asking you to deal with accompanying him out to the main hall as she went back to work. She said that unmistakable attraction could be used to benefit the contract they had just signed, where three members of the law firm were now his attorneys by any means required. Also, she mentioned something to be a good starting point to establish cordiality; the fact that you both had studied at the same university.

However, as you accompanied him to the entrance of the building, hearing out his last petitions while making sure to take mental note of them, he sent his team ahead to have a second of privacy. His attitude relaxed just the slightest to ask you out for dinner to catch up. To which there was only one possible answer: yes.

As unlikely as you were to care about anyone’s lives besides those near you, you wanted to know what had been of your time apart. How he had become this man her boss wanted so badly to keep content to see success in her ambitions.

Finally done with the week, you went home since you agreed for him not to pick you up at the office. So quick to take his number, everyone would have thought you were just writing down another adjustment to his expectations from the team.

He picked you up in his immaculate Porche and although time had passed, it felt natural to sit there being taken gods know where to have some boujee dinner. However, the formality of it all, the privacy of the table at the restaurant, and the way he kept getting closer and closer as the date went on, were obvious signs of the road he was taking. The moment he placed one of your hair threads behind your ear and intensely stared towards your lips as you spoke, suggested he wanted to catch up in another way too.

Not holding grudges against each other from your break up and with you not being completely over him, the deal was signed with crimson letters of passion.

Jungkook had been your first, the one with whom you discovered what it was like to be with a man. The first one to rub you with his body until you were shivering in desire, the first one to touch you in ways you had only experienced in the intimacy of your bedroom. The first one to be inside of you and to make your toes curl while drawing a wide smile on your mouth as you reached an orgasm. The first one to cuddle with you naked. The first one to caress the curve of your shoulder and whisper “I love you” thinking you were asleep.

He was also, the first one to make out with you against a wall in the middle of an argument and to fuck you raw while standing after succumbing to a fit of jealousy. Giving you a taste of what rough sex was and making it a desirable thing. He was the one who came to mind when you touched yourself on your lonely nights when you needed relief to go to sleep, and the reminiscence of any of his many acts of passion, always did the trick for you.

He was dedicated, sweet, indulgent, appreciative, supportive and many more things that had left the standards very high for the rest, especially as partners. Your boyfriend, Sejun, was the perfect boyfriend, sweet, caring, smart and attractive, but he wasn’t Jungkook. You lasted only four months together. After that, you had a few encounters but never got into a relationship again. Although you lied to yourself for months, you weren’t over Jungkook.

To add more fun to the situation and to twist it even further, Jimin popped into your mind more than a few times when you, very willingly, showed your apartment to Jungkook. Like an intrusive thought that kept repeating itself to your jadedness. It was especially annoying when you felt Jungkook’s breath as he leaned to speak in your ear, brushing your jawline with his nose as he moved, and your mind compared them. ‘The perfect boyfriend, to a one-night stand. You gotta be kidding me!’ Unfortunately, your mind was indeed, not kidding.

“Wow… You definitely have taste!” said Jungkook as you started showing him the loft.

The place isn’t big per se but it’s the perfect size for a woman who had no plans on forming a family any time soon. That was normally attractive to the few guys you had brought over the past year. The kind of place that screamed ‘no ties’ to those who only wanted to have fun on the upper floor, where the loft’s upper part extended from a living area to your room. The angle of the roof and how spacious that part of the loft was happened to be the main reason you bought it. You always wanted a room at the top of the building; flat ceiling penthouses are too expensive and lack charm in your opinion.

You had tried to make some privacy to your room by keeping the wall that separated it from the living room, but the wall that directed to the stairs was torn down, and you made work on placing glass windows in its place. The light came in beautifully when you hung out there during the day and you were always able to draw the custom blinds if you wanted it dark.

That was practically all the big structure changes you had done to the space. There is another living area in the open space of the first floor, connected to the kitchen by a dining area. You have an extra bathroom and bedroom for guests but it practically had your friends’ names written in it the first time Sofie came over.

“Thank you!” you said as you made your last stop in the kitchen where everything lay perfectly cleaned as if you never used it, although you do. "May I offer you something to drink?” You wondered and took a little bottle of banana milk out of the stainless steel fridge, shaking it next to your face with a smile. He chuckled and looked at the ceiling completely caught off guard.

“Does your boyfriend drink this too?” he wondered, with a smirk. ‘Smart question,’ you thought while chuckling too. Then you gave him an intense look that surely raised interest in him. His eyes studied your every move.

“What makes you think I have one?” you suggested, and then he started advancing towards you, at a pace you knew way too well from past experience. He knew you well, you wouldn't have invited him over, alone, if you did. Not him. Not with how not closed-and-over everything had ended.

You were the prey now. Your words had given him all the confirmation he needed.

His energy was different, strong, creating pressure under your belly, making you take one involuntary step backwards against the counter. But you didn’t resist his approach, and when he put two fingers on your chin to kiss you, touching your lower lip with his thumb while biting his own, you fastly moved away, walking backwards toward the other side of the aisle.

He smirked and poked his tongue inside his cheek, he moved his head to the side, feeling provoked. You weren't initially playing games, just giving yourself a second to weigh the consequences since you had confirmed it was free for him to get what he was chasing after.

“What are you doing?” you wondered, hiding an obvious smirk while raising an eyebrow, keeping your fingertips over the counter, ready to push yourself backwards to run. It had been a thing of the past and your inner self craved to relive those moments.

“Some things never change, huh?” he said, sliding his hands over the counter at each side of his body, slightly leaning over it as a way to distract you while looking up. He seemed to want to jump over the stovetop, to you, and with those arms, you had your bets that he could easily do so.

“I guess…” you said, looking at him straight in the eye before pacing backwards, slowly.

He then skirted the aisle with one hand sliding over the black countertop, without any rush. Against your prediction. Pacing your way, the two of you kept on moving until your back met the rail of the stairs, trying to use the space of the open room to escape but misplacing things as you kept your focus. He towered you as he broke the last distance with your body, almost touching you with the chiselled abdomen you could perceive through his shiny shirt.

His warm breath tickled your nose from above while you kept the stare from underneath, not ready to expose your neck, and he waited for you to take the next move. As soon as he realised you weren’t going to cave in, he snaked underneath your nose, searching for your lips.

The first touch of his lips was light, a teaser, barely there. Separating just the slightest to give himself a chance to back off with his pride untouched. The lack of refusal from your side gave him a chance to have more contact. Resting his right hand on your waist, still keeping a prudent body distance, his lips pressed against yours once more, fulfilling the contact. His warm and soft lips pressed with yours in a cast peck, making sure there was a will to accept.

With the slight movement of your chin up in his direction, how almost imperceptibly your lips parted towards him, you gave him the answer he was looking for. Within seconds his left hand was resting underneath your ear, his thumb on your jawline while the rest of his digits meet the raised skin at your nape. The touch, petal-like, felt out of a fairytale. The taste of his heart-shaped lips was whipped cream with his tongue offering liquid caramel.

The third one, bewildered you, his lips pressed against yours, stronger, as he took in a silent deep breath through his nose. His grip also turned more firm but still gentle. You teased him as you followed, the lingering presence of his whole being extended through that one pure act. His eyes were closed tight as if something was hurting him. It did.

The way his new energy waved against your body, ripped open a door you had closed the day after he left. A door you didn't know had been cracking open for the last week. The one that brought you to the final conclusion of not being over him, snapping out of your denial. Then Jimin came to mind.

His ethereal beauty during his sleep, just like Jungkook’s before he left. The way your heart had clutched hearing your name come out of his plump lips, made your hands entwine at the back of Jungkook's nape as your now shallow breath mixed with his in a demanding open-mouthed kiss. Jimin's was different.

Your body pressed against Jungkook’s, making his right arm embrace your waist. You didn't want to think about it. But Jimin felt so different. Their energies within the passion were similar. But with the same movements, they couldn't feel more different. Yet you stopped thinking about Jimin when Jungkook’s tongue slid between your lips. That muscle, so part of his expressiveness, now meeting yours. They tasted different. Both were addictive, but it didn't matter anymore.

Something old took over as you moaned for air against Jungkook's lips. An old memory, that seemed to rip a hole through your chest at first, filling it with a warm and known sensation after. Without much more thought he leaned you over the sofa, which you couldn't recall getting close to, and struggling to be careful, he leaned over you, pulling your legs around his waist.

The kiss extended longer than the two of you could be aware of, but your lips felt used, and their skin was enraged with the action. The moment he separated to go down to your throat and unavoidably pressed his lips in the still sensitive mark, you gasped; feeling yourself more wet than his action should have. It called his attention, making him raise his head slightly, wondering only to see the fading mark of a hickey where his lips had been. The cookie-flavoured make-up slightly cleaned by the moistness of his lips. It made his blood boil.

He had no right, no claim, and he had been realistically aware that you wouldn't have been a saint during the time he had disappeared. But it still made him jealous.

The idea of another man having your body, your being, that deep down he kept considering his, didn't sit well with him. From your side, your thoughts had shown you Jimin as he teased the mark, the memory of that smirk you hadn't been able to see him make against your throat. The memory was so vivid, you could feel his breath the way you did that night.

Until Jungkook's lips clasped over it; branding a new one. Making you gasp in pain and pleasure. You pulled his head backwards by yanking on his hair, instinctively. Only for him to hiss and open his dark eyes in a warning, making you swallow. The grip on your hip so unwilling to let go, you almost squirmed. It would leave a bruise, although it wasn't really painful.

You almost felt the need to apologise due to his angry energy, but it seemed he was overreacting to what you thought caused it. You frowned, and it made him realise his mistake, leaning forward to kiss you, making you release him.

However, the jealousy had sent a rush of adrenaline that made him want to go faster than he originally planned to. After not seeing you for such a long period of time, he wanted to make love to you, remind you of the beautiful thing you once had. Make you want it back just as badly as he did. He pulled your lower lip between his teeth while licking it with the tip of his tongue, making your skin crawl and involuntarily press your core against his crotch.

He grunted, his sensitive swollen member, making him remember how good it felt to be wrapped by your walls. The rest went fast.

His hands slid underneath your pencil skirt, reaching for the band of your purple lace culotte panties pulling it down as he traced your cleavage with his nose. The reminder of another man being inside of you, messing with his self-control; pulling it so fast, and then undoing his own bottoms just as quickly shocked you.

His length, as straight and perfectly hard as it had been in the past, was something you looked forward to feeling again, but when he leaned to kiss you, you freaked out. His bareness and yours, making you aware of the missing part of the puzzle, putting your hands on his chest to stop him, looking in between your bodies.

Fastly reaching at his previously abandoned jacket over the back of the couch for a condom, he unwrapped it with his teeth while holding his weight on one arm. The motion, so sensual, made you want him even more.

The way he slid the rubber against his length while frowning, also brought Jimin up and you screamed inside in frustration. But it was at the moment you felt Jungkook's tip slide between the moist of your folds, at the moment that you felt his form sliding in, that Jimin vanished. The pressure of his thickness against your walls, making you feel like being split, taking your full focus. His clenched jaw while pushing in, knowing exactly how he needed to work your body to fit himself in, made his question come expectedly.

"Are you uncomfortable?" he said, stopping suddenly, making you raise your brows either way. "You are way too tight… As if you don't-"

"I want it," you said, moving your hip up to ease his access, not really knowing why being as wet and horny as you felt, your body had slightly rejected him at first.

However, the quick idea that whoever had left the hickey wasn't as thick as he made him proud, and biting his lower lip he leaned closer, almost crushing you. His nose rubbed against yours, as his hips went towards your slightly raised ones, making it all quite tender. Still, it wouldn't fool you.

Even love-making with Jungkook was intense enough to not be called slow or vanilla. Once Jungkook started his thrusts he had only one thing in mind, please his partner.

He bit your jaw as he deepened when being in the middle of your channel, pushing further without pulling out, not willing to lose any contact. He grunted to your wall’s resistance, and you strangled a moan to the pressure. Then he started thrusting to ease his access to your depths, suddenly realising he was way too excited to do it for long before releasing earlier than he’d like.

He stopped when he reached the bottom kissing over your nose bridge to unwind from the situation. You stared at him as he did that with his eyes closed and caressed the hair falling on his temples and forehead brushing it to one side.

The situation suddenly turned romantic and stirred up old feelings that you weren't ready to get back; feeling vulnerable in his embrace. With that, you entwined your fingers in his hair to lead a kiss, making him come back to the moment but much more calmer. Then he started moving again, the first thrust just as fierce as your kiss, making your lips stop for a second. His drew a smirk while his left hand pulled your thigh higher on his waist to give himself more room to thrust into you.

He wasn't trying to be intense. He was in the midst of the lovemaking he wanted but a snap close to losing it. He wasn't trying anything. You knew that very well. Yet the sensation had an overwhelming aftertaste that made you struggle to breathe. You finally matched what he was feeling.

His pace turned stable while he placed his abdomen against yours, trying not to lose his mind in the wave of memories that your smell, feeling you, and touching you brought back. Then his possessiveness hit even harder. Whoever you had been seeing before him, would lose importance and would stand no chance to get near you with him around again.

You were his. He was going to get you back. End of question.

🍵 Did you burn your tongue? 🍵

I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! Let me know your thoughts and reblog if you liked it.

I want to thank once more, @moonleeai for the beta work 💜

Taglist: @lemarkjun

#jimin fic #jungkook fic #jungkook x you #jungkook au #jimin au #jimin x you #bts jimin #jungkook #bts fic #bts au fic #jimin smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut

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