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#if including legs either fully extended or pulled into himself
wazzappp · 1 year
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Trying to figure out how he moves before trying to paint him
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echo-of-sounds · 4 years
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daddy dom
Headcanons on the types of Daddy Dom Aizawa, Gang Orca, and Hound Dog are. 
I was going to include all six guys in this but it got so much longer than I initially planned. Toshi, Hizashi, and Fatgum are coming tomorrow!
Warnings: Daddy Dom relationship, (the rest is only mentioned, there’s no real detail) punishments, choking, slapping, spanking, spitting, hair pulling, and rough sex
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Aizawa Shouta
Shouta had an inkling he was interested in dominance when he started having sex. The Daddy Dom surfaced after a one-night stand happened to moan ‘Daddy.’ He enjoyed it, looked into the subject deeper, and realized that’s exactly what he wanted, needed. However, he hasn’t had a relationship where he’s felt comfortable enough or been in one long enough to practice it. 
As your relationship develops, it is something he brings up because he isn’t shy about it. He wants to be your Daddy. He wants to be his girl’s protector and her anchor. He praises you when you’re doing well. He says how proud he is. He loves and cuddles you on your bad days. When you’re crying and scared, he’s right beside you, huddling you to his chest, protecting you from whatever you fear. 
Pet names are a rarity. On the odd occasion a good girl slips out, it’s a telltale sign he’s in a highly dominant mood. You’re expected to listen, do what you’re told, and say, ‘please and thank you.’ To make you feel fluttery and happy, he’ll call himself Daddy as he’s helping you.
Kitten is even more limited. He uses it when you dress up in the pink lingerie he bought you. It has a little collar with a bell, a cat-eared headband, garter bands, and cute, frilly panties and bra. There’s also a cat tail butt plug you can play with. But there’s a catch- there’s depreciation. If you use it too much, he isn’t as excited and it’s clear to see. You need to keep the lingerie away until you’re in dire need of your Daddy and a good fucking.
He takes pride and joy in seeing your smile at a new, fancy bracelet or an adorable teddy bear. But he’s uncertain when buying. He knows what you like, yet he just can’t decide on which dress you’d prefer. Despite his self-doubts, his presents are usually excellent, especially any soft, thigh-high stockings or cute, striped panties he brings home.
Though you won’t ever be able to tell, sometimes it is hard for Shouta to discipline you. He enjoys your bratty moods and how you ignore his commands to sit still. Your whimpers and whines and facial expression are incredibly cute. But at the end of the day, he is your Daddy and it’s his responsibility to keep you on track and provide stability. His go-to punishment is no orgasming… for a long time. You can’t touch yourself or grind on a pillow. If you beg, it’ll only extend the punishment. Occasionally, spanking is also used, particularly when you’re riding him and not listening.
Highly dominant doesn’t always mean rough. Yes, he is that most of the time. But he has periodic moods where he won’t use discipline. It’s when he’s in a coddling mood. Daddy becomes gentle, erotic, intent, and intimate. Don’t hold back your moans. Please, whine and whimper and fuss and mewl. Your soft cries and little wriggles please him so. 
When he is rough, you’ll be leaving red streaks down his back. He loves seeing them in the mirror the next morning, so he strives to get you that aroused and pleasured every time. And nothing is truly off the books for him. Whatever you wish, he’ll command: slapping, spanking, choking, hair pulling, and spitting.
Shouta is more of a nonverbal Daddy. Both of you know he’s dominant and it’s your job to behave, so he doesn’t feel the need to command you as much as others may. He just yanks your body around as he pleases, slaps and chokes you when you don’t listen or get off-topic, and spits on your tongue to get you to quiet down. Now that doesn’t mean he won’t talk. At your misdoings, his steeled voice is gruff and guttural, commanding, punishing, and asking what you did wrong. 
Daddy gets even more domineering when you cum without permission. That’s the one rule you should never break. If he’s feeling charitable (which is rarer than a blue moon), he’ll let you cum. Other times, he’s deepthroating you, cumming down your throat, and making you swallow it. And that’s all you’ll get. Again, don’t beg. That’ll worsen the punishment. All you can do is be a good girl and hope he lets you cum in the next few days.
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Gang Orca
Kugo never considered himself a Daddy or any sort of dominant man in general. The few times he’s had sex, he was more on the submissive side, letting his partner lead and ride him as they wished. His fear of hurting his partner really held him back. However, the instant he hears you softly, weakly whine Daddy, gently pawing his chest, pining for him to make you feel good, the switch is flicked and there’s no going back.
Before he fully engages in the Daddy Dom relationship, he does a lot of reading and asks you question after question. If he ever hurt you or pushed past your limits, he’d all but die inside. You need to ease into it. Let him become accustomed to the power dynamics, the dirty talking, what’s expected from him, and the lifestyle.
In the beginning, he’s as sweet as can be. You’re his little one whom he loves to spoil. He buys you dainty panties, comfy sweaters, and dresses for every occasion. You should always model clothing for Daddy. He’ll appreciate your appreciation. As you turn around in a cute, lace nightgown, his fingers flow up your thighs, caressing between them, gently brushing along your new panties, making sure everything fits perfectly. 
He gradually leans into the discipline aspect as the relationship grows. Once comfortable with himself and you, the punishments come frequently. They depend on the severity of your bad behavior. If you don't listen, you don’t get sweets. If you didn’t listen twice, you have extra chores to do. If you didn’t listen three times, no sexual gratification of any kind for however long Daddy deems necessary. 
In spite of that, he is a weak Daddy when it comes to his little one. Your puppy-dog eyes burrow into his heart. Your wiggling thighs get him heated. Your little mewls for your Daddy’s attention haunt him. But he doesn’t give in all the time. He still has structure, stability, and dominance to uphold.
Kugo is truly a safe Daddy. He’s your secret place where your every thought, desire, emotion, and fear will always be heard, understood, and respected. Whatever you tell Daddy when you’re curled up on his chest, snuggled in his arms, stays with Daddy. He guides you through the crowded mall, nurses the cuts on your legs, acts as an anchor through depression and anxiety, and protects you from the rumbling thunder. And by God, is he protective. 
Protectiveness is his main characteristic. He wants you to wear his T-shirt and sweatshirts. When he cums, he seats himself fully insides, letting him empty out completely. His hands rub your lower stomach like he’s feeling his property. Even as he falls flaccid, he stays inside. He needs to make sure everything has drained. If he could, he’d keep you filled with his seed forever.
Tender, slow sex involves you riding Daddy. He squeezes your thighs and tummy as you bounce. He praises every movement, every part, every itty-bitty sound. Your passion is so important to him. Seeing your body seek out its pleasure and rapture in the safety of your own little world fills his heart with love.
Dominant Daddy is less common yet so fulfilling. His thick, wet tongue washes deep. Fingers spread you wide. His erection spreads you further. You’ll be thrown on the bed, stuck under him for multiple beautiful orgasms. As you cum, moan ‘thank you’ again and again. Your gratitude encourages him. He’ll keep you moaning into the morning. 
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Hound Dog
The second Ryo entered that seriously horny stage of puberty, he knew his dominance. As he started having sex, it only flourished. He’s rough, fast, controlling, and one-hundred percent, hands down a brat tamer. Your whines and protests are cute, but he always wins. Hearing his rasping, growling voice is enough to get you to concede to his demands.
Aftercare and any delicate aspects will take time and learning on his part. He wants to be so gentle, caring, and sweet with you. His natural rough nature gets in the way. As any good Daddy is patient with his little girl, a good girl needs to be patient with him. And when he gets there, he gets there. You’ll be swaddled in a warm blanket, given candy and drinks, and your favorite bed-time Tv will play while you wind down. His warm, smooth tongue laps over bruises and scratches.
There’s one big thing about this Daddy: God, he just loves to watch you suck: him (specifically his foreskin), his fingers, your fingers, a lollipop, a pacifier, whatever. Lay on his chest, wrapped in a blanket, and nurse on a binkie as you fall asleep. The most common way sex starts is with a blowjob. It commonly ends that way as well. He either makes you finish him with no pleasure for you or, after you’re finished, he lays you down and deepthroats you.
Right off the bat, punishments are a main part. There’s a written list on the fridge you must obey. Though he doesn’t spank. You might act up just to get spanked, and he won’t have that. The discipline always matches the offense. Are you back talking? You’re eating something you don’t like. Is your temper too hot? You’re taking an ice-cold shower for five minutes. Are you ignoring him? Daddy’s going to rile you up then leave you hanging and whining, showing you what it’s like to be neglected.
After the punishment is complete, Ryo transitions right into aftercare. Daddy loves you enough to punish you. That love is strengthened after by his licks and kisses. Besides, Daddies who don’t show their little girl compassion and care afterward, aren’t good Daddies. He loves and respects you and wants you to know, see, and feel that.
And the punishments never push past your boundaries. You’re never put in danger. In any way. The safe word is always available. He won’t give you food you truly can’t handle for whatever reason. He’s right beside you as you shower just in case something goes wrong. The moment the water’s shut off, you’re immediately swathed in a cozy towel.
During one of his more… inflamed moods, you’re fastened in a collar. It’s pink with little flowers. The heart decoration on the front is a padlock. Only he has the key. It has ‘Daddy’s Girl’ inscribed on the back. It goes on as soon as you get home. And it stays on until you leave. There is a leash he’ll use if you aren’t behaving, holding, leading, and controlling all your movements.
There are times when he goes into (sort of) a heat. It could be a quirk side effect. It could just be him. Either way, you’re going to get completely dominated. Your hair will be pulled. Your throat will be choked and fucked. Your cheeks, both sets, will be red and raw. Scratch marks and dark bruises will stain your neck, legs, and back.
His favorite is any doggy-style position. It’s carnal and crude. Daddy has total authority since his weight bears down, caging you to the bed. Use your voice. Let him hear every gasp and cry. Beg for him. Plead for more. Pray for just one more orgasm as your hair’s tugged and clit’s smack sore. The harder you crave, the harder he thrusts.
Sweet sex is a rare time when he kisses and cuddles. Heat surrounds you. Muscled thighs and callused hands direct your weak, longing body. His tongue never leaves your mouth, licking over yours, causing drivel to drip down your chin. It may not be rough, but the sincerity and intimacy provide more than enough pleasure for an amazing orgasm. And Daddy passionately walks you through it.
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sturchling · 3 years
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Hey, can you do a MLB oneshot
So this will contain Marinette sugar and alya and Lila and class sugar and Adrien salt/bashing And can this focus on Luka/Nath
So basically Luka and Nathaniel had been dating now and this starts to make Adrien jealous since he had a crush on Luka and he got very angry when he saw Nath and Luka kiss, he was very angry and later on he had a plan, after school he was gonna sneak on Marc and then push him hard down the stairs and then he runs away by the way Marinette saw the whole thing and she recorded the whole thing , then Nath was sent to the hospital and he stayed there for two weeks and his body was hurt and Nath was crying while Luka was comforting him, Meanwhile Marinette confronted Adrien and recorded the whole confrontation secretly on her phone and after Adrien punched marinette and then threatened her later on Marinette makes a Group chat and adds his friends except Adrien and she tells everyone what Adrien did and show proof, so then they showed the proof to Miss Bustier and the principal and Adrien got suspended for a month for doing a cruel thing and was grounded until for a month, and later on Adrien apologies to Luka and Marc but then they said that it would take a week for them to forgive and then they left leaving Adrien to cry while feeling guilt in himself
Sorry about the wait, here you go. Hope you like it.
Luka and Nathaniel were the talk of Mrs. Bustier's class. Everyone thought the couple were adorable together. Everyone, that is, except for Adrien. Adrien was filled with jealousy. He had liked Luka for a long time now, ever since he invited Adrien to join the band. Adrien tried flirting, but Luka never seemed to notice or care. But he always stared at Nathaniel. Adrien didn't get it. He was handsome, famous, and was always nice to Luka, so why didn't Luka like him back? It didn't make any sense. Adrien watched as Luka and Nathaniel went on cute dates, got Andre's ice cream together, and grew closer and closer. As he watched, the jealousy and anger consumed him, until he took drastic measures.
One day after school, Adrien had stayed late for fencing. After the fencing lesson ended, and everyone had left, he went upstairs to get something he forgot in the classroom, and when he came back out he saw Nathaniel leaving the art room and approaching the stairs. Adrien's rage and jealousy consumed him and he snuck up behind Nathaniel. Just as Nathaniel approached the first step on the stairs, Adrien shoved him hard. Nathaniel went flying, falling down the stairs and hitting every step on the way down. Adrien ran from the top of the stairs before he was spotted by anyone. Some of the staff who were still in the building heard the crash and came out of their rooms to see Nathaniel lying in a heap on the floor and no one else around. They rushed to Nathaniel, who clearly had several broken bones, and sent him straight to the hospital. Adrien watched from an empty classroom, feeling satisfied in getting revenge on Nathaniel for taking Luka from him. And he hadn't been caught. No one had seen him, not even Nathaniel. Or so Adrien thought.
What Adrien hadn't seen was Marinette standing downstairs, on the other side of the courtyard, with a perfect view of what happened. She had noticed how Adrien had been glaring at Nathaniel lately. Adrien looked like he wanted to kill Nathaniel most days, and so when Marinette saw him approaching Nathaniel from behind, she grabbed her phone and started to record, just in case. And it was a good thing she did too, because she caught Adrien pushing Nathaniel down the stairs on video. No one else saw what had happened, and Marinette was the only one with any proof. She wouldn't let Adrien get away with this.
Nathaniel ended up breaking one of his legs and one of his arms. He also had a concussion and a fractured rib from the fall. Everything hurt and all he felt like doing was cry. Luka was there every step of the way, and stayed with Nathaniel in the hospital while he recovered. Luka would play the guitar, play games, help him come up with new ideas for his comic book, anything to distract Nathaniel from the pain. Nathaniel would spend two weeks in the hospital before he was released, and the entire time he was there, he was doted on by Luka.
Marinette waited a day after what happened, to see if maybe Adrien would come to his senses and confess to what happened. But he didn't. The school didn't have any proof that Nathaniel was pushed so they just called it an accident. And Adrien was fine with letting them. So, Marinette went to confront him after school one day. She waited until he was done with fencing and they could be alone. She wanted to confront him, but also try to get him to come clean, not wanting to give up hope on her friend and think the worst of him. Before she went into the locker room, she started recording video on her phone, and made sure to hold it so it wouldn't look like she was recording. Then she opened the door and approached Adrien.
"Adrien, we need to talk. I saw what you did to Nathaniel." Adrien froze for a second, before giving Marinette a dazzling smile. "What are you talking about? I didn't do anything to him?" Marinette shook her head, "Yes, you did. I saw you push him down the stairs. You walked behind him and shoved him down the stairs. And I got the whole thing on video. Why did you do it Adrien? You need to come clean and tell Mr. Damocles what happened. If you don't I will." Adrien face darkened considerably. Gone was the kind boy she knew, and he was now giving her a very threatening look. Before Marinette knew what hit her, Adrien punched her in the face, knocking her to the floor. "You want to know why? He got in my way. He took away any chance I had with Luka, so I hurt him like he hurt me. And if you get in my way, I will do the same thing to you. Don't you dare tell anyone about what happened, or this either!"
Adrien stormed out of the locker room, leaving Marinette on the floor. He didn't know that she had recorded the whole conversation. Marinette, stunned by what had just happened, sat on the floor for a moment. When she collected herself, she went straight home where she knew she was safe. She then set up a group chat with the whole class, except for Adrien, and made sure to include Luka as well. She told them everything about what she saw and what had just happened. She also sent them the two videos as proof. The group chat was filled with angry messages when they saw everything Adrien had done. Pushing Nathaniel down the stairs, punching Marinette, and threatening her too. The class and Luka especially were ready to go to the Agreste Mansion and beat some sense into Adrien. But Marinette talked them out of committing a felony and instead they planned to go to the school.
They all got there early and asked to speak to Mrs. Bustier and Mr. Damocles in Mr. Damocles office. They showed them both the videos and told them everything. They were horrified to see what Adrien had said and done. As soon as Adrien arrived at school, he was pulled into Mr. Damocles office and was shown the evidence. Mr. Agreste was also present through a video call and saw the two videos taken of his son. Adrien was suspended for a month, the maximum amount of time Mr. Damocles could suspend him with out approval from the school board. When he was back at the mansion, he was informed that he was grounded for that same amount of time, at the least.
After his suspension was lifted, Adrien was still grounded, his father having decided to extend his punishment a while longer. He was only allowed to go to school and come home, nothing else. Even his fencing lessons were conducted at home. Adrien had began feeling guilty for what he had done, so one day, he hung back after school for just a minute. Nathaniel was never alone anymore, especially if Adrien was around. Luka would always come walk him home after school now. So when they heard someone call Nathaniel's name and they turned, seeing Adrien walk up to them after school, Luka looked ready to hit him, not that Adrien would blame him. Adrien apologized for what he did, and made it very clear that he was truly sorry for what he had done. "Can you ever forgive me Nathaniel?" Nathaniel just stared for a moment, before turning his back on Adrien, facing the exit again. "I'm not sure Adrien. And if I do, it will take a long time. A simple apology doesn't fix this. I am not sure I will ever fully forgive you for this." With that said, Luka and Nathaniel walked out of the school, leaving Adrien crying in the courtyard, wondering how he could have been such a monster.
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rexscyarika · 3 years
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Di’kutla Mando’ad
⚠️18+ MINORS DNI⚠️
Wolffe x afab gender neutral reader. Reader is a Mandalorian bounty hunter that now works for the GAR.
Warnings and such: Establishment bdsm (dom/sub) relationship (up to you to decide if that extends to romantic too as it’s never stated either way), orgasm denial, spanking, vaginal fingering, semi public sex, sex in a gunship, public flirting, flirting with Sinker, mention of mlm Boost cause there are no cishet characters in Star Wars, degrading/name calling, use of military titles during sex, manhandling, teasing, praise, pet names including sweetheart and little one, hair pulling, use of the color system, aftercare, begging, dirty talk, brat taming but not really good brat taming cause you got exactly what you wanted by being a brat tbh, implied past threesomes, implied possible future threesome with Sinker (a sequal anyone 👀), hint of an armour kink, military title kink, mention of knives and I think that’s all I hope *edited to add* piv sex
Mando’a translations (I hope there’s not so much it gets confusing to read, if there is lmk, but I love this language sm and writing with it helps me learn it lol)
Cyare/cyar’ika: Darling/beloved/sweetheart
Gedet’ye: Please
Elek/‘lek: Yes
Ad’ika: Little one/sweetie/darling
Al’verde: Commander
Mando’ad/Mando’ade: Mandalorian/Mandalorians
Ori’jate: Very good
Beroya: Bounty hunter
Ruus’alor: Sergeant
Haar’chak: Damn it
Shabuir: Fucker
Di’kut: Idiot/fool
Ner: My
She’cu: Nine
Gar: You
Title means “Foolish Mandalorian”
Ps idk what toilet paper is called in the Star Wars universe so I went with “‘fresher rolls” don’t @ me.
You glanced past the holo projection of the Kel Dor to your frustrated Commander. His hands were flexing by his side and his body was rigid. He shifted impatiently on his feet as he nodded along to whatever the General was saying. The way his muscles rippled under his plastoid armour made your mouth water and you couldn’t wait to feel yourself underneath him. Submitted and begging for release. You knew he’d pounce soon, you knew how to play him. Sure you could just ask him to rearrange your guts but where was the fun in that? You’d been extra flirty with him all morning, an extra touch there, a lingering hand here, a breathy and sweet tone to your voice as you followed his orders.
“Yes, Commander.”
“Anything for you, sir.”
“You’re armour looks extra good on you today, Al’verde.”
An “I’d sure love to cyar’ika.” After you heard a hissed “fuck me.” under his breath after he had spilled hot caf on himself.
He had given you a couple warnings. Ones you responded with by a flutter of eyelashes and a mockingly sweet “Sir, yes, sir.”
What really wound him up though was what you were doing as he spoke to the General. You were sat beside Sinker on a nearby crate, your knees touching and a hand on his thigh. You had removed your helmet and sat it beside you so Wolffe could see every bite of your lip and flutter of your lashes you gave his vod.
You turned your attention back to the silver haired trooper, leaning in closer than necessary to hear his story.
“So Boost goes up to him and the di’kut says: Hey are you a lightsaber cause I’d like to impale myself on you.”
The poor man barely gets that sentence out before he’s wheezing, you joining him promptly after. Wolffe’s head snaps up to you guys and you can feel his gaze burn through you, you just know his lips are pulled into a tight line under his helmet. He turns his attention briefly back to Plo before he is dismissed and you hear footsteps coming your way.
You tried to stifle a smirk as you ignored him.
“How many times do I have to tell him to stop with the pickup lines, he’s never gonna get laid.” You rolled your eyes and huffed in mock exasperation.
“Or maybe a haircut.” You added with a snort.
“I keep telling him that! But he-“ Sinker immediately stiffens and removes the hand that had travelled to your waist as he noticed Wolffe. He stands up and gives his C.O. a small salute. Not really necessary or protocol but he was afraid he had crossed a line and didn’t want to take any chances.
“Commander.” you purred, lifting her head and blinking up at him with hooded eyes. “How’d the meeting go, anything new we need to know?”
He ignored your question but continued staring daggers into your soul as he spoke to Sinker.
“A new shipment of supplies is due to be dropped off anytime. Go and make sure the shinies don’t spill them again.” His voice was gruff and commanding, trying his best not to snap at his vod. After all, it wasn’t his fault you were being a needy little slut.
“Yes sir, right away, sir.” You heard him reply, his shoulders relaxing and a relieved sigh leaving him as he walked away.
You stood up and looked towards Sinker, huffing in mock disappointment.
“Rude. I was having a nice conversation with him.”
You turned to grab your helmet, settling it onto your head before turning back to your Commander.
“He was telling me embarrassing stories about Boost, it was quite entertaining.”
“Uh uh.” He replied, taking a few steps towards you. His voice, deep with irritation and lust, sent a wave of arousal straight to your core. “Entertaining.” The word was laced with sarcasm and a touch of a snarl. He stepped closer, you could hear his breathing through the modulator now. A hand came up to run along the top of your belt, sending shivers through your spine. His other hand came up to rest under your helmet, pulling your head up to look at him. “You’re quite the needy little thing aren’t you, sweetheart?” It was more of a statement than a question and you just scoffed at him and shifted to hide the arousal that was building between your legs. “I asked you a question, beroya.” He growled, his grip on your helmet increasing. You responded by stepping back, your hand moving up to flick his away.
“I’m going to help Sinker.”
You huffed, turning to walk away. His hand hadn’t left your belt, however, and he tightened his grip and pulled you towards him.
“Foolish Mandalorian.” He snarled as he snaked his other hand around to land on your lower back and pull you flush against him, causing a small gasp to travel through your modulator.
“Shabuir.” You fired back, your hands coming up to push at his chest, not that you really wanted to get away mind you. But you knew the more resisting you did the rougher he would get. And the rougher he got the more heat gathered between your legs. And the names, oh the names. Coming from anyone else you probably would’ve pulled your blade on them, but the way he said them in that voice of his, especially modulated through his helmet, turned your limbs to jelly. They were like a condescending prayer falling from his lips and travelling straight to your cunt. He knew this of course, this wasn’t your first time and you had discussed your limits to avoid well, you pulling your blades on him.
He growled your name, a low sinful warning as his hand left your belt to grasp your throat, not hard enough to bruise but certainly not light.
You light out a low whimper at that, the sound, along with it being enhanced by your modulator, sent a shiver down the Commander’s spine.
“Color?” He murmured, somehow flipping his voice to be soft and gentle, his hand moving to gently rest against the back of your neck.
“Green!” You nearly gasped out. You were starting to lose your composure and you knew he could tell that to.
He immediately straightened up, his voice becoming hard and commanding again.
“Then I think it’s time to teach you a lesson in following orders, little one.”
He turned and started walking towards the nearest gunship, his hand pulled tight around your waist.
You stumbled alongside him, his words having weakened your legs even more.
“Easy there.” He chuckled. The sound a low and deep rumble in his chest.
It made you stumble again. The bastard. He knew exactly what he was doing to you.
Despite your weak legs you managed to make it to the gunship where Wolffe hastily opened the door and ushered you in. The door hadn’t fully closed by the time he had pushed up against the wall. His hands came up to remove your helmet and discard it alongside his own and he wasted no time in claiming your mouth, only pausing to order you to keep your hands clasped behind your back. His tongue found no resistance through your lips and he pulled moans deep from your throat as he explored your mouth. While his mouth was busy his hands came to grope and grab at your ass before moving to remove first your belt, then your codpiece. He teased his fingers just inside your waistband, enjoying the way your moans turned to whines.
Just as you were about to pull away and spit a snarky comment at him for taking his time he finally moved his hands down to slide a calloused finger through your folds. A surprised whimper left your lips at that.
He hummed approvingly at the wetness he found there, slowly sliding his finger in before he moved to nip and suck at your neck. His finger didn’t move, not until he slid another to join, at which they both stilled inside you again.
You tried to roll your hips against him, desperate for any kind of friction, but you were met with his other hand roughly shoving your hips back against the wall.
“Ah ah, you take what I give you, cyar’ika.”
You whined into his ear, trying to think of something snarky to say but you were at a loss for words.
“Aw, all tongue tied are we?”
You opened your eyes to meet his as he pulled his mouth from your neck.
You opened your mouth to disagree but it turned into a surprised gasp as he rutted his fingers up inside you, fingers curled expertly to find that spongy spot.
You saw a sly smirk form on his lips before your eyes closed in bliss. He still wasn’t moving quite enough for your liking but at least he was moving you thought.
He brought his mouth back to yours to swallow your moans as his thumb came up to gently circle your throbbing clot.
His hand moved from your hip to grab a handful of your hair. He didn’t pull at first, just kept a gentle pressure pulling at the roots.
“Wolffe.” you moaned out, his hands sending waves of pleasure through your body.
His fingers stilled inside you, making you let out a small whine. He used his grip on your hair to turn you to face him.
“Excuse me?” He growled, meeting your gaze with darkening eyes.
Your own eyes widened at the realization of what you said. “Commander! Sorry, sir.”
He gave a hum of approval and started pumping his fingers inside you again, only this time it was faster and harder. Every push inwards had his fingers brush against that sweet spot and you could feel your orgasm approaching.
You could feel his gaze travelling over your face as you twisted and groaned beneath him.
His thumb came to swirl around your clit again, causing you to cry out. You let your head fall back against the wall as you prepared for the wave of pleasure to wash over you. You could feel it building and building, burning hot, deep within your core. However, instead of the sweet release you had been craving you got a sudden emptiness as he pulled his hand away. You clenched around nothing and let out a whine, snapping your eyes open to look at the culprit. You shivered at the sight. He brought his fingers into his mouth, sucking and licking off the taste of you. His eyes were closed in bliss and he let out a groan around his fingers. A long, deep, sinful sound that shot straight to your soaking cunt.
You watched him with hunger, trying desperately to keep your hands to yourself.
He removed his fingers with a pop and let his eyes fall to your exasperated state. Which he let out a chuckle at.
“You didn’t think you were going to get away with being a brat, did you?”
The venom in the way he said brat and the way his lips turned into a snarl made your pussy throb even more than it already was.
Your eyes widened and you shook your head.
His grip on your hair tightened slightly and he raised his eyebrow in a silent warning.
“No, sir.”
“Thought so.” He let his hand fall from your head and he walked over to some stacked crates, gesturing for you to follow him.
He ordered you to turn around once you had came to face him. The break from him touching you and the brief walk was enough for you to gain back some control of your thoughts so you opted to have a little fun.
“No.”
“Pardon that sweetheart?”
“I said no.” You crossed your arms over your chest and popped your hip out, meeting his gaze with one of defiance. “You didn’t let me cum so I’m not going to listen.”
His jaw tightened and before you knew it you were bent over the crates, face pushed against the cold medal and hands held tightly behind your back. You gasped as you felt yourself being pushed even harder down onto the rough surface as he bent over to bring his lips against your year.
“Watch it, Ruus’alor.” He practically spat, giving your neck a hard nip to prove his point. The use of your title send a shock of arousal through your body and you shivered against the feeling of his breath on your neck.
He straightened up and roughly pulled down your pants, your underwear going with them. The Commander waisted no time in bringing his hands to grope your ass, and his mouth to bite at the soft flesh. Your groaned and leaned into his touch, encouraging him to move his mouth lower.
You were met with a harsh slap to the sensitive skin.
You let out a surprised yelp and your hands moved to grip on the edges of the crate.
You received another slap, this one slightly harsher. You felt him straighten up again as he spoke. “Did you forget how to count, sweetheart? That was two.”
“Sorry, Sir.” You mumbled into the table and were met with another slap.
“Three.” You gasped
“Four.”
“Five.”
“Six.”
“Seven.”
“Eight.”
“She’cu.” You choked out. That was one of your tells it was becoming to much when it came to impact play, slipping back into your native tongue. You two had been quick to figure that out when you started. It wasn’t always negative when you started speaking Mando’a however. Most of the time it meant you were on the verge of an orgasm or you were just so lost in the pleasure you forgot how to speak basic.
His hand moved to rub soothing circles over the reddening skin as his other trailed up and down your waist.
“Ori’jate ner Mando’ad.”
You relaxed under his touch, your breathing coming deep and easy again. Your cunt ached from neglect, you needed him inside you, now.
“Gedet’ye Al’verde.”
“What do you need Cyar’ika?” He leaned his body slightly over yours. You sighed under the weight, it was comforting.
“Gar, Al’verde.” You whined, trying to wiggle your hips against his codpiece. “Need to feel you inside me. Please.”
He brought his lips to the back of your neck and kissed you softly before answering. “Only because you took your punishment so well.”
You managed a breathy thank you before he pulled away to remove his codpiece. You shivered in anticipation as you watched him expertly remove the armour. Your tongue darted out to lick your lips when he removed his cock from the confines of his blacks. He was rock hard and slick with precum.
His gaze met yours and his lips turned up into a grin. “What you’ve never seen a cock before?” He teased taking himself in hand and giving himself a couple pumps.
You managed to roll your eyes and mumble a “Just fuck me already.” as you turned your head from him.
“With pleasure.” He cooed, lining himself up with your aching hole and placing a hand on the small of your back to press you further into the cold surface of the crate.
You both groaned in tandem as he began to push himself into you. He slowly moved deeper until he couldn’t go any further, stopping to take a minute to make sure you were well adjusted before he started moving. As he stilled inside you he moved his body over yours again, taking a hand to gently pull your chin towards him. He kissed you, it was slow and gentle, and you returned it eagerly, clenching around him when he gave your lower lip a little nip. He released a curse into your mouth at that.
“Ready?”
“‘Lek.”
He attached his lips back to yours as he slowly started pulling out of you, eagerly drinking down every sound you made. You thought he was going to pull out of you completely before he buried his hips against yours in one swift motion. His cock hitting deep inside you caused you to cry out and push back against him, seeking more.
“So eager.” He breathed against your lips before pulling out and snapping his hips in again, faster this time.
This caused you to roll your head away from his, resting your forehead on the crate, hands clinging desperately to the sides as your Commander’s movements quickened with every thrust. His breathy groans left your ear as he stood up, placing his hands on your hips in a tight grip.
“Fuck you feel so good.”
You only groaned in response, the praise sending a wave of pleasure down your body and causing you to clench around him. He hissed at that before speeding up his thrusts and somehow managing to hit even deeper inside you.
Your words were coming in garbled mix of basic and Mando’a now, the pressure in your core steadily growing.
“Are you going to cum, sweetheart?”
You managed to nod in response before crying out in frustration as his movements slowed.
“Do you think you deserve to?”
“Elek, Al’verde gedet’ye!”
“Hmm. I don’t know about that.”
His head lowered to your ear again.
“Good Mando’ade listen when their Commander tells them to behave.”
He brought a hand to your ass in a light slap, making you jump slightly forward in surprise, well as far as you could being pinned against a metal crate.
“They don’t continue to be brats and flirt with my vode.” He added, moving his hand to grip at your hair. “Maybe I should call Sinker in here so he can see what he’s missing.”
Your breath hitched at that.
“Or maybe I should just pull out and let him take care of you. After all sweetheart, you seemed mighty eager to let him fuck you.”
You buried your head against the cold metal as a whine escaped your hips and you clenched around his barely moving cock.
“Hmm what a filthy little thing, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” He chuckled, suddenly snapping his hips back towards you in a deep thrust.
You let out a choked cry. “Haar’chak Al’verde, gedet’ye!” The pressure in your core was overwhelming, you felt like you could burst at any second but his movements were to slow too let you. Tears pricked your eyes as the pleads fell from your lips. His cock inside you was too much yet not enough at the same time. Your body was heated with pleasure but also a small amount of smugness. You had him exactly where you wanted him, pushing all his buttons to get what you wanted.
You hadn’t realized you had been whining apologies to him until his movements sped up again.
“There you go, cyar’ika.” He breathed out as he set an unforgiving pace, hips angled to hit your g-spot and his hand leaving your hair to rub circles on your clit. You couldn’t form words at this point, just moans and gasps as you chased your release. You could tell he was close too. His thrusts had become more erratic, and the hand at your hip had tightened its grip. Your mouth fell open in a shout of his name as his next words pushed you over the edge.
“Cum for me, ad’ika. Make a mess on my cock.”
And you did, your orgasm rippling through you in it’s unforgiving intensity. You felt yourself clench hard around him, the action causing him to spill inside you with a sputter of his hips and curse of your name from his lips. You became slightly numb as you came down from your high, barely registering that Wolffe was pulling you into his lap. Soft praises fell from his lips as he gently held your head against his chest. You wrapped your arms around his waist, trying to get as close as you could despite the armour you both still wore above your waists. Your breathing came slow and deep, synching to his. Once you had gained some semblance of control you looked up at him to find him studying you intently.
You raised an eyebrow at the question that was pulling at his lips.
“Would you actually wanna fuck Sinker?”
You giggled at the disbelief in his voice before you moved your head into his chest to hide the red that was creeping up your face. “Maybe.” You mumbled, partly hoping he didn’t hear you.
“But it’s Sinker!” He groaned in confusion.
You popped your head back up that.
“I happen to like Sinker quite a bit thank you very much.” You huffed in defence. Not that it had any real heat to it you as you knew he was teasing. He really was quite fond of the trooper but he liked it give him a hard time.
He chuckled at you, more moving of his chest than actual sound. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve shared you, cyar’ika. As long as you remember the rules.”
You rolled your eyes at him, of course you’d remember the rules.
“Not without you and you’re in charge.” You sealed your words with a boop to his nose, causing him to return your eye roll.
“That’s my good little beroya.”
His words made you flush again, but it turned into a grimace as you felt the mess between your legs.
“You made a mess Wolffe!” You tutted in mock annoyance as you stood up in search of something to clean you up. You couldn’t see his face but you’re sure he rolled his eyes at you again. You let out a small cheer as you opened one of the crates to find it filled with ‘fresher rolls. Grabbing one you turned back to find your Commander walking up to you with your discarded pieces of armour. You put them back on after cleaning yourself up as best you could. Once you were done you looked up to find Wolffe staring at you with a smirk on his face.
“What?!”
“Your armour’s sexy.”
“No your armour’s sexy.” You replied tapping a finger on his chest as you leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek.
He let out a snort before handing your helmet to you.
“Why thank you, cyar’ika.” You purred, lifting it from his hand. Before you could put it on however, he grasped your chin between two fingers and pulled you up to kiss him. It was deep and passionate and made you melt into his touch. He pulled away with a smirk, leaving you out of breath and on slightly shaky legs as he put his helmet on.
“Why don’t we go and check on your darling Sinker? Make sure he hasn’t knocked out any shinies.” He sighed in slight exasperated at the second sentence as he turned to open the door out of the gunship.
You scoffed at his words but also put on your helmet to follow him. Sinker has been know to get a little... snippy at shinies here and there. You’ve had to step between him and a terrified trooper more than once. Not that you haven’t had to do that with Wolffe mind you, he was just as bad if not worse. You grinned as you stepped out of the gunship, a small limp finding it’s way into your step. You couldn’t wait to see Sinker’s response to your little proposition you had prepared for him.
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saiqherrr · 3 years
Text
— an audience (s. getou)
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.pairing suguru getou x femreader
.content warning | tags public sex, teasing, breeding kink, oral sex (f!receiving), praising kink
.synopsis getou wants to go for a nature trail in the park. you guys stop to have a picnic break in a somewhat hidden spot and things escalate...
.a/n @oonizoomi this one for you b, thanks for giving me the idea╰(*´︶`*)╯♡. here's something quick. i'm trying to ease this getou brainrot. hope y'all enjoy this though.
.wc 2.1k
16+ ONLY
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THROUGHOUT YOUR YEARS of being with suguru getou, you had come to find out that he was a very outdoorsy person. he loved anything and everything alfresco. your first date with him took place outdoors at an alfresco café. the first time you two made love was in his backyard, on his full-sized, flat hammock. his close friend, satoru gojo, often mocked him for suguru's excessive love for the outdoors. it didn't bother suguru one bit, shrugging off satoru's immature comments. because you had been with him for so long, it was only natural for you to take a liking to the feeling of nature and outdoors and engage in any alfresco activity that he wanted to indulge in.
on a saturday morning, suguru came to you while you showering, asking if you'd join him on a nature trail. you eagerly accepted the offer and had a small breakfast before packing up stuff for the walk.
"we should have a picnic break in the middle of our walk, yeah?" suguru suggested as he pulled a picnic basket out of a storage closet. he held it up and gestured to it.
the corner of your lips rose. "sounds good to me.” the two of you compiled numerous small meals to eat for the picnic, including two cold water bottles. your love for suguru would never get old. it remained new - always. even when you guys were packing, your hand brushed up against his, feeling the hair on his knuckles and you still sucked in a sharp breath. 
even when he asked “you ready?” his deep, attractive voice could make your body melt. oh, how you loved him. 
you nodded, pursing your lips together, grabbing your cellphone, and following him out the door. as he walked down the steps, he spun the car and house keys around his index finger, the keys jingling together arrhythmically. he was softly humming a tune he had been singing for a couple of days while his index finger on his other hand tapped his thigh. 
as you both go to the driveway and approached the car, he went to your side first and gripped the handle before pulling it open. you got inside, settling yourself in the passenger seat. the seats were hot and it was stuffy inside and crinkled your nose. he noticed your discomfort and sniffed. 
“i’ll get the air on in a sec.” you nodded and he shut the door and proceeded to go to the driver’s seat and he got in. his weight slightly shook the car and he inserted the car key into the ignition before he fully shut his door. the car revved up and the lights shut on consequently. 
suguru felt the uncomfortable temperature of the car too, flinching when he made contact with the metal seatbelt that was retaining the incredible heat. he hissed a little bit and furrowed his eyebrows with small distress. he flicked the air on the desired settings and decided to stay around a little bit before driving off.
he turned his head to you. “you feel the air?” he asked as extended his arm in front of you to put his hand in front of the vent to make sure it was coming out.
“yeah,” you respond shyly and clear your throat. the basket was sitting in your lap and you reached behind to place it in the backseat. as soon as the car was cool enough, they buckled their seatbelts and suguru turned down the power of the air and started to back out of the driveway.
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you guys walked for almost an hour, talking about anything and everything. at one point suguru let you ride on his back, wrapping your arms around him firmly as he carried you along the trail. you both discussed how the two of you wanted a house in the middle of nowhere with lots of free land. the conversation even leads to marriage...and kids. 
suguru sighed heavily as he took one last step. “my legs are getting a little tired.” you stopped behind him and panted a little. you weren’t necessarily athletically inclined so this long walk took a lot out of you. “let’s have our picnic, shall we?”
he took your hand as you both went off the trail and he took you to a hidden spot in the park. you brought a change of shoes, changing from your sneakers to your brown, leather sandals. suguru was busy laying out the blanket on the grass, watching people walk along the trail from time to time. he flattened it out, making sure it wasn’t crinkled in any place. you started to place down the cold-cut sandwiches you both made together and handed him a water bottle. 
he leaned in for an unexpected kiss and you blushed furiously. “thank you,” he tells you.
“for what?” you ask. the gesture was random and had you feeling giddy inside. you unwrapped your sandwich and took a bite.
“just for being here. i love you.” he smiled at you awkwardly as his mouth was full with a chunk of his sandwich he just a bit. 
you swallowed and giggled. “i love you, too.” you scooted closer to him and entangled your leg with his, feeling his body hair. you both continued to eat your sandwiches in silence, enjoying the sounds that mother nature had provided. you loved being in each other’s company even if you guys weren’t doing anything. the fact that he was there - it was enough.
after finishing most of the food that you guys had brought, getou laid down and he wrapped his arms around your body and held you close to his chest. you could feel his heart beating steadily, your head moving with his chest every time he inhaled and exhaled. 
you didn’t realize you were so tired, you ended up in a light rest as you were in his arms. getou lifted his head a little to look at you. you’re so beautiful. your face was relaxed, he felt that you were heaven-sent. suguru took his right hand and went to your ass, caressing it a little. you woke up and opened your eyes slowly. 
you strained your neck to look up at suguru. he had a lewd expression on his face, a look you’ve seen one too many times before. he slid his hand into your denim shorts, with a bit of struggle, and he tugged on your silk underwear. 
“suguru, not here...” you objected, but your voice trailed off when he put his index finger to your soft lips letting out a small “shh..”
“it’ll be fine,” he assures you. your eyebrows knit together desperately and he chuckles as he sees the disproval on your face. 
you lick his finger and he moves it away from your lips. “no, sugu. people are going to see.” you were adamant about your decision, sitting up and looking at suguru who still was laying on the ground with a heedless smile on his face.
“doesn’t that make it so much hotter?” you looked at him dumbfoundedly. he took you by the hips and sat you on top of him. it was then that you felt his growing erection. he was still a bit soft, but you could tell the blood was starting to flow by the second. he looked up at you and narrowed his eyes. that careless smile suddenly became persuasive. “wouldn’t it be so hot to have an audience?” he bucked his hips upward on the word, ‘hot’. you yelped and squirmed, but he kept you in place.
you didn’t respond to him because you were embarrassed to admit that you did find it hot. you kept your lips shut and glared down at him. the thought of someone seeing you get fucked out in the open gave you mixed feelings, but the curiosity of how you would felt was driving you mad.
suguru took his hands and slid them under your shirt, rubbing over your belly before he cupped your breasts. your lips parted with anticipation. he finally sat up and he pulled your shirt up until it was right above your breasts. his finger circled your nipple a couple of times before he rubbed it with his thumb, pinching it a few times. his lips latched onto the unattended nipple and he gave it a couple of kitten licks. a moan finally escaped your lips, causing suguru to get harder. you were started to get warm down there and proceeded to roll on his hips. you two weren’t the only ones aroused, about three onlookers were watching you two from a distance, not making it very obvious that they were. 
suguru pulled your shirt down, at least trying to make it a little more discreet, and began to rub himself. he was irritated with the fact that you were wearing denim jeans, he had no choice but to pull them down. so he did, and you let him. he slid your panties aside. the quick movement made you whimper a bit. your clit was sensitive and swollen and your hole was drooling, clenching on nothing. some of your slick was getting on his pants and he smiled at you.
“look at you...getting so wet just for me.” he rubbed your clit painfully slow as he rubbed your clit. lewd moans slipped your lips and your eyes closed. suguru looked past you for a moment and peeped a couple of people nearby. he couldn't tell if they were turned on or disgusted but the fact that they were watching at all aroused him.
“please, don’t tease me...” you grunt.
“okay, okay.” suguru chuckles and he removed his hand and pulled both his pants and boxers out at the same time. his erection flung out, veins were prominent all around it. you lifted a little, letting him slide into you with ease due to your wetness and you grimaced as you felt his length inside of you. 
more onlookers started to watch with either curiosity or with lewd intentions themselves. suguru caught the eye of one and his body was flustered with excitement. “i want you to moan for our audience, okay?” he tells you, looking directly as the older man that was doing very little to make himself hidden.
you nodded, tucking your bottom lips underneath your top. you started to bounce up and down on his length, his cock repeatedly impaling your hole. suguru bucked his hips at the same rhythm, shamelessly letting out lewd grunts, mixing in with your pleasurable moans. “yes, baby, just like that...”you milked his cock with your rigid walls, rolling your hips around occasionally just the way he liked it. "they're watching, love." suguru whispered as he kissed on your neck, still keeping his strokes steady. your body shivered with excitement. people watching you get fucked out in the park was such obscene and raunchy thought. he bucked his hips harder, hitting right below your cervix. he was going to cum, but suguru didn’t even mind. this quickie was just enough to satisfy the fantasy he had been wanting to live out for a while. all the worries you had, had gone away and all you carried about was pleasing suguru — and your audience.
your moans got louder, your hand rested on his chest, and tears were started to swell up. it was all too overwhelming. a layer of sweat formed onto your skin as moans of suguru’s name began to pour out of your mouth. a knot formed in your stomach, your body reminding you that you were close.
you choked on your own words as you tried to speak. “sugu, i-” you were cut off by your moan. “oh my god, suguru.” you repeat his name in broken moans, it was like music to his ears. it drove him insane, and his thrusts began to become uneven, his hips stuttering. “gonna cum...” you finally were able to spit it out.
“me too, baby. you want me to cum in you, hmm?” he asked in between his groans and heavy pants.
you nodded. “please, sugu...fuck a baby into me. fill me, please,” you pleaded endlessly until the both of you reach nirvana. suguru’s cock twitched before he painted your walls white. your legs were trembling violently as your liquids slid down his length. you were full, so full, the feeling was too good to put into words. it was the first time he came inside of you. you both were out of breath. you got off of his now flaccid cock and collapsed beside him, right on your stomach. suguru smirked and looked at how fucked out you were. he slapped your ass. “i can’t wait to see your beautiful belly grow.” he admired how beautiful your body naturally was, containing a temple that could bring a soul into this world. he started daydreaming about the baby you'd bring into this world. he shook his head to get himself out of his thoughts and cleared his throat.
“get situated before someone notices.” he purposefully raised his voice for the onlookers who were now disappointed that the show was over. you both shared a look and both shared hearty laughs and started to pack up.
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moonbeambucky · 4 years
Text
Hey Neighbor (Epilogue)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 3498 Warnings: fluff
Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.
A/N: This is it 🥺🥺 I’m so sad we’re at the end but I couldn’t be happier by all of your reactions, even when things weren’t at their best I loved hearing your screams. Now we can all cry together as we say goodbye. Thank you so much for reading their story. Btw I started a Patreon for those who would like to support me. 
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HEY NEIGHBOR PART 25 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST
Breath fogs the window as you stare out of it, a grey haze has rolled over the city, the sky a sunless landscape of thick clouds and cold winds. It snowed the other day and what remains on the streets has become soot covered or murky slush. It’s nicer to stare at the white dusting on the branches of the trees below, taking in the soft peace of the afternoon.
The world has grown quieter over the past few weeks, your world at least. You can’t say the same for the hoards of people in Times Square, packed like sardines as they count down the hours for the ball to drop.
Graduation was behind you. Nearly two weeks ago you finally crossed that stage to receive your diploma. Technically the real one was still coming in the mail but it’s the symbolism that counted. All of your friends cheered as your name was called, tears of joy and relief welling up in your eyes as you did it– you finally did it!
Wanda hugged you tight afterwards, both of you letting your tears fall. She adjusted your graduation cap, decorated with a lightning bolt for Pietro. It was the first thing you did when you received your garments, to make sure a part of him was with you on such an important day. You left her arms for Peggy and Steve’s, then Sam, Natasha and Clint and then there was Bucky.
He grabbed his crutches, lifting himself up from the chair though you didn’t make him walk. A few steps closed the gap between you and you held him, your arms securing around him as a precaution as he balanced on one leg.
His smile was so beautiful as he murmured, “I’m so proud of you,” holding his gaze before you kissed tenderly, humming against his lips.
You’ve been dating ever since that day in the hospital and life couldn’t be better, especially since you and Bucky laid out some terms. From now on you would always be honest with each other, never holding back your feelings. You were a team who loved and respected each other to talk and more importantly listen.
Bucky managed well on crutches but there were still things he couldn’t do, taking for granted days he could have gone outside for a walk. Sure he had muscles, but his arms were killing him, especially on the days he had to go to the doctor for a checkup. He started physical therapy too, to keep up with strength and flexibility for the rest of his body.
It was exhausting but you were there to help him almost every step of the way. Showering was a pain though Bucky insisted on some independence, wrapping up his cast as he sat on a cold plastic chair that extended over the tub. It made him feel like he had aged 80 years but he got over it.
You did what you could to help him heal but the greatest comfort Bucky found was when you were cuddling together. He cherished those moments the most, when you held him, resting your head against his chest, or when his head was in your lap as he stretched across his couch, your fingers lazily combing through his hair.
It was the quiet moments together, crossing the threshold of intimacy in new ways. This was the slowest Bucky has ever gone since he was in middle school, swallowing a nervous gulp before asking if it was okay to hold a girl’s hand.
Life after had been a blur; his guard up, women in and out, no chance to settle, in and out, no connection, faces blend together, names are nothing more than letters on his phone for a good time, in and out. It was all noise, a constant buzzing in his head until you came into his life.
You’ve opened Bucky’s ears and the noise became sweet music. You’ve opened his heart, the melody it sings is a love song and he’s soaring. He doesn’t waste time on regrets, instead he spends each and every day getting to know you and love you in new ways.  
You celebrated Thanksgiving together, with his parents coming to your apartment so Bucky didn’t have to travel. George brought most of the food over, it wasn’t barbecue but it was just as delicious. And this year you had the time to bake a pumpkin pie.
Your days were spent working at The September Foundation up until graduation. Elena hired you for Metro-General and you start there on the first Monday of the new year. Ideally, you’d like to still volunteer when you can and knowing Tony it’s something he fully supported. Things couldn’t be better.
“Doll, are you ready?”
Bucky’s voice pulled you away from the window and you climb off his bed and into his waiting arms. The basketball shorts he wears reveals his skinny left leg, paler than the other thanks to the dry flakiness he’s still working on remedying. He was in a cast for almost three months and just got it off a few days ago. You went with him, holding his hand as he beared weight on his weak muscle after so long.
He just finished the strengthening exercises he was supposed to do every day and now he needed to shower. You both did actually since tonight was Natasha and Clint’s annual New Year’s Eve party. You pull your shirt off, tossing it somewhere behind you and Bucky follows you to the bathroom. He can shower without his seat now but it doesn’t mean he didn’t want help and you happily obliged. The water ran cold by the time you actually finished and you really didn’t mind at all. Now that Bucky’s cast was off you were looking forward to getting even more physical again.
Though you showered at his place you finished getting ready at yours since you could. Living next door to your boyfriend was obviously convenient. You were able to be together and still have the space you needed. For now it worked though you can see yourself moving in together. A smile stretches across your face when you think of it, Bucky playing his music, no walls in between, a far cry from how things began.
You open your closet to find a dress that would work for the theme of this year’s party which they claimed was winter except they asked all their guests to wear either red or green. You bit your tongue, thinking that sounded more Christmas than winter but you didn’t argue, it wasn’t your party. You pulled out a crimson colored dress that had a beautiful lace overlay. The back was sheer and though it was a little short you felt it was seasonally appropriate with its long sleeves. You finished your hair and makeup, finishing off with gold chandelier earrings and peep-toe heels.
A rhythmic knock rapped at your door and you knew it was Bucky. Opening the door your jaw dropped. Maybe it was the fact that you had mostly seen him in shorts and sweatpants over the last three months, and not that he didn’t make those look good, but the outfit he was wearing now looked incredible. He looked sharp in a juniper green suit with a soft tartan design, a brighter green patterned tie stood out against his light shirt. His shoes were dark brown with a hint of mahogany that reflected in the light and even though he looked amazing you were surprised he didn’t opt for sneakers to be more comfortable with his leg.
“Fuck, you look beautiful,” he spoke first, biting his lip as he looked at you up and down.
He shaved since you left him and your hands went to cup the smooth skin of his cheek. “Not more beautiful than you.”
You pressed your lips to Bucky’s, deepening the kiss with your tongue which was probably a bad idea since it only increased your urge to rip Bucky’s suit off and take him right there. You forced yourself back from him, walking towards your couch to grab your bag.
Bucky followed you as quickly as he could considering walking still felt a little strange. His arms went around your waist pulling you closer to him as his lips began to kiss your cheek, trailing down your neck. You hummed in delight, exhaling stuttered breaths, almost losing yourself to his touch before you pulled yourself out of it.
“We can’t,” you stressed, reluctantly. “We’re gonna be late, come on.”
He sighed acceptingly, waiting for you to unplug your phone and grab your keys. Just before you were ready to leave his arms wrapped around your waist one more time and Bucky spoke before you could say anything.
“I love you, Y/N.”
The swell of your heart reached your lips as you gazed into Bucky’s eyes repeating the same words you’ve known and felt for so long. After another sweet kiss you locked up your place to take the long trip up one flight.
Clint greeted you at the door, his arms pulling you and Bucky into warm welcoming hugs. Unlike his guests, Clint was dressed in a white suit jacket, with black pants and a matching bow tie. He welcomed you into the apartment that was not filled with as many people as you expected.
There were familiar faces in your friends, including Sam who was able to take off this year. Right away Bucky teased him about his red suit calling him Elmo.
“Yeah whatever Kermit. And what about this one?” Sam teased, pointing at Steve. “That’s all you had?”
Steve blushed pink, feeling insecure about his outfit choice, a cozy forest green cable-knit sweater. “Like I’m supposed to have a fruit punch suit in my closet?”
“It’s cranberry and I look good,” Sam declared, smoothing his hands down the front of his jacket.
You let the boys continue to have fun as you said hello to Wanda and Peggy, both looking beautiful in their dresses. “Where’s Natasha?”
They shook their heads. “Haven’t seen her,” Wanda said, heading towards their marble island to grab a drink.
It was decorated with a row of mason jars, each filled a quarter of the way with coarse sugar mimicking crystal snow, with a candle in every other one and a chunk of bright red cranberries and sprays of cedar leaves sticking out of the others.
“But we just got here, so I dunno,” she finished.
You were looking around for familiar guests, surely the partners of her law firm would be coming again. An older woman sat on the couch talking to another unfamiliar face, the back of their heads glowing thanks to the curtain of twinkle lights that decorated the large walls of the living room. In the corner was their Christmas tree, a tall spruce decorated with frosted pine cone garland, matte red ornaments and thick burlap ribbon.
Clint brushed passed you, kneeling in front of the older woman who looked curiously familiar. Nervous energy was pouring off of him, from the way he kept chewing his nails to the constant tremble of his leg. He smiled as he passed you again standing near the door. With Natasha still not in sight you decided to do a little digging, by way of introducing yourself.
You walked over to the woman Clint had been speaking to, standing in front of her and the two people she was mid-conversation with. The man was big, his Santa-like belly was testing the buttons of his red shirt as it stretched across the material. His eyebrows were bushy and his brown hair was long in the front, looking a little messy as if it had been brushed through with only his fingers. He had a long beard that matched the color of his hair though it had a lot more grey in it.
The woman was beautiful. The emerald top she wore brought out the green flecks of her hazel eyes and her red lips drew you right into her beautiful smile. Her dark hair was braided with a crown, the rest of the locks falling onto her shoulders.
You caught their attention, extending your hand with a smile as you introduced yourself. The older woman spoke first, her voice as soft as a songbird as she told you her name, Edith, followed by the fact that she was Clint’s mother. Well, that explains it. You see the similarities now, the glasses she wore didn’t hide the fact that they shared the same eyes. Even her mouth was the same, thin lips that grew into the same beaming smile.
“I’m Melina,” the beautiful woman said with a Russian accent. “This is Alexei.” She pointed to the man who smiled at you. His grip was strong as he took your hand in his meaty paw. “We’re like family to Natalia,” he grinned proudly.
“It’s so nice to meet you all!” you said, sitting beside them to talk all while in the back of your mind your brain was working to put together why they were here. Sure it’s a holiday but family members have never come to Clint and Natasha’s for New Years before. In fact, Natasha doesn’t even have family. The only “family” you knew of would have to come from Russia to–
Holy shit.
You find an acceptable way out of the conversation, rushing over to Bucky and pulling him away from his conversation. Your hands are jittering with excited energy, eyes as wide as your mouth is open.
“Bucky, don’t you see what this is?!”
He looks confused for a moment before his attention is diverted. Bucky looks past you to another unfamiliar person that walked in. It’s a man with brown skin dressed in all black. A dark goatee framed his face and the straps of an eye patch secure comfortably around his hairless head. Though Bucky tried not to stare he couldn’t help but notice the veining of scars stretching out across his temple and cheek. He stands tall and silent with his arms clasped behind his back waiting.
Clint cleared his throat, a nervous smile settling on his face. “Now that everyone’s here I’d like to welcome you to… our wedding.”
Gasps of surprise fill the room with everyone rushing up towards Clint as he tries to field questions, hoping no one was truly mad at the abrupt announcement. “I knew it,” you whispered under your breath, gently slapping at Bucky’s arm.
The man in black walked towards the front of the living room, clearly the officiate who asked everyone to get settled as they were about to begin. Clint knocked once on his bedroom door, before taking his place beside the man who introduced himself as Nick.
A young woman with blonde hair slipped out of the door. She nodded to him, cracking a hint of a smile before she settled next to Melina. A moment later everyone’s eyes were drawn to the sound of the bedroom door creaking open again.
Natasha stepped out looking like a dream, in a floor length shimmering ivory gown that showed off her well sculpted shoulders with its high halter neckline, embellished with beautiful beading. She clutched a delicate bouquet of white roses and winter greens with cranberry sprigs woven throughout. Natasha walked up to Clint without fanfare, just the audible sighs of those around her admiring the back of her dress, dazzling and tasteful cut outs that showed off more of her toned body. The fabric cinched above the small of her back, a small train sweeping around her feet.
She handed her bouquet off to the blonde girl, her “sister” you presumed, remembering an old conversation with Clint. Brushing back a loose tendril from her face, Natasha smiled widely as she stared at Clint, bringing her hands forward to connect with his.
Nick began speaking and you took out your phone to capture a quick picture as the impromptu ceremony began. Bucky’s hand found yours, lacing your fingers together as you watched your friends exchange their vows.
Clint’s hands communicated his words in sync as he spoke them. “Natasha, what more can I say to the person that knows me better than I know myself. Because of you the sun shines a little brighter each day, flowers have a sweeter fragrance and my heart is filled with treasured memories. Even the not so great ones like that time in Budapest that I know we remember very differently.”
A chuckle simmers amongst the small crowd and Natasha dips her head down to laugh.
“Because of you my heart found a home, and like my stomach, it will never be empty...” Clint smiled, taking Natasha’s hands in his. “...because it will always be filled with your love, a love that I promise you I will never let go.”
Natasha sniffs, brushing aside a tear as she gathers her thoughts. “Clint, you’ve given me a second chance in life, you’ve shown me what friendship and love truly mean. I promise to trust and respect you and give you the best of myself. I promise to always fight for you, never against you, to be by your side through whatever life brings. I promise to make sure we always have snacks in the house and to clean up all the stains from your shirts when you drop food on them.”
Clint’s shoulders shrugged with acceptance as he chuckled under his breath, “It happens a lot.”
“Yes it does,” Natasha repeated, smiling wider. She exhaled a deep breath before continuing. “I promise to love you through the good times and bad and to choose our love every single day. You are my best friend, my soulmate and I'm the luckiest person on Earth to be able to call you mine.”
You felt Bucky press a kiss to your temple, leaning his head against you as the ceremony continued. When it was time Alexei dug into his pocket, pulling out the rings. With Nick’s concluding words Natasha wrapped her arms around Clint’s neck, and his held her waist; their love sealed with a kiss as everyone cheered in celebration.
They pulled back from each other, Clint resting his forehead against Natasha’s. He brought his hand up, bending his middle and ring finger into his palm. Natasha did the same, their fingertips touching as they signed “I love you” before turning to face their friends and family.
Edith was the first to hug the newly married couple who made their way through everyone until they got to you. Bucky and Clint hugged as he congratulated them. “I can’t believe this.”
“I can.” Natasha laughed, pressing her cheek to Bucky’s as they hugged. She moved to you and you wrapped your arms around her tightly. “We’ve been planning this wedding for so long it was never going to happen unless we did it this way.”
“It was perfect,” you said, pulling back from your hug with a huge smile. “Congratulations, I’m so happy for you both.”
As the night went on you formally met Yelena, the blonde who Natasha grew up with, and learned about her exciting work. You were in similar fields as she worked to free people of human trafficking, mostly young girls that were to be indoctrinated into radical terrorist groups for forced marriage or even espionage.
Her work was more hands-on as she physically raided underground bunkers or warehouses. It made you feel like you weren’t doing enough even though you knew that wasn’t true. All the years spent working towards your goal reaffirmed that, and in just a few days you’ll officially move into your office in Metro-General, across from Elena’s as you begin doing what you’ve always wanted to do, help people.
You’re lost in a comfortable stare as you look at the Christmas tree, realizing the countdown to midnight had begun.
Ten! Nine! Eight! ...
You turn around, looking for Bucky in the small room that was crowded with everyone standing so close together, huddled around the TV that showed the view from Times Square.
Seven! Six ...
The shimmering ball was descending and you were alone until….
Five! Four! ...
“Hey neighbor…” A voice called and you spun around relieved. Bucky smiled, bringing you close into his arms.
Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!
He leaned in, his lips hovering above yours, pausing as you spoke above the roar of cheers. “Have I ever told you how happy I am that you moved in here?” you purred.
“Every day. It’s like music to my ears.”
Bucky smiled tenderly, sealing the small gap between you, kissing you softly as he poured all the love from his heart out and into yours. Your hearts beat to the rhythm of your own symphony, a song that had a rocky beginning of notes that stretched high and low, but now it was a steady ballad you would continue to create together with your love.
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nerdyfangirl67 · 3 years
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An Angel to Me - Phantom of the Opera Reader Insert
Pairing: Erik Destler x genderneutral!reader 
Warning: woke!Erik (he is in touch with his feelings in this one, so I hope it’s not too OOC), artist!reader 
Word count: 1067
Request by: @iamcavainna​
“Erik’s s/o being an artist who loves to draw him but does it in secret in fear of upsetting him but Erik finds one specific drawing. The drawing is a charcoal drawing of him with angel wings (shirtless or not, either one works) and the drawing is of how his s/o sees him. In the drawing he’s radiating like an angel and he’s beautiful despite his scars and that’s when he realizes how much his s/o loves him and that he is worthy of her love (or something like that) and he starts crying. When his s/o comes back, she find him curled up in a corner crying clutching the drawing to him. When he sees her, he tells her how much he loves her and needs her (even tho she already knows) and they end up going through all her drawings of him together”
A/N: I changed it just a bit, but I hope you still enjoy it! Thanks for the request darling! I used “ma chérie” and I think it is the feminine version of “my dearest”. I did, however, include the masculine version of the endearment in parentheses, so you can use whichever you prefer. I believe other than that, this is a gender neutral fic. (This pic isn’t really POTO related, but gives me POTO in Paris vibes)
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You stare at the drawing you just finished, wondering what had possessed you to draw him, Erik, like you had. Usually when you chose him as your subject, you drew him doing what he loved best, making music. Your sketchbook, or what could pass for one, was full of drawings of Erik. Erik playing at the organ, Erik hunching over his music sheets as he creates another masterpiece, Erik standing solemnly amongst the hundreds of candles in his cavern, Erik languidly stretched out across the large, black satin covered bed. 
Yet, never before had you drawn him as you truly see him, until now, and it left you breathless. You hadn’t once needed to look at him as you drew, your charcoal pencil hardly leaving the page once you started. You set your sketchbook aside, deciding to take a brisk fall walk along the streets of Paris. You write a short note to Erik, promising to be back soon, and place it on top of the keys on his organ, hoping he finds it.
Erik’s POV:
He entered the cavernous opening, expecting to find you on the velvet chaise longue beside the organ, your nose in your sketchbook, completely unaware of everything around you. He didn’t find you on the chair, but he did find your abandoned sketchbook. Curiosity seizes him and he grabs the book off the cushion. He knows how private you are about what was on those pages, but he also knew how truly happy the works on those pages made you, as happy as his music made him. Because of that, he had to know what was on the pages of your sketchbook.
He tentatively opens the cover, surprise filling him when he sees the drawing is of him. You had drawn him bent over his work table, his brow furrowed in concentration as he furiously wrote a new composition, neglected music sheets piling up at his feet. He stares a moment longer before flipping the page, his surprise becoming disbelief as this drawing was of him too. You had drawn him stretched out on the bed shirtless, a muscular arm tucked up under his head, his mask discarded carelessly on the floor, a barely there smile on his face. He continues to flip through the pages, each successive drawing of him. He finally reaches the one you had just finished and his surprise turns into disbelief.
It was a charcoal sketch of him, except extending out past his shoulders was a set of beautiful black angel wings. You had drawn him face uncovered, the scars on his face visible, along with the several littered across his chest. The lines were soft and the shading just enough to draw attention to the scars marring his body. Usually the sight of those scars, even if they were just a rendition on paper, left him filled with disgust, but the way you had drawn them? He thinks they are beautiful, in fact, he thought the whole drawing of him was beautiful. He realizes then that this drawing shows how you truly see him. Tears blur his vision, a lump forming in his throat as continued to look at the picture. He realizes then that you love him, and looking at the drawing again, he also realizes that you find him worthy of that love. 
Your POV:
You return from your walk, your heavy cloak damp from the cold mist falling over the city sending a shiver down your spine. You drape your wet cloak over the small velvet stool resting next to the worn stone steps. You don’t hear the organ playing, which you had expected when you entered the cavern, and upon reaching the organ, you don’t find Erik sitting there, hunched over his music.
“Erik?” You call softly, worry starting to creep up in your chest. “Where are you?” You don’t hear any response, but you do hear movement deeper in the room. After looking for a few moments, you find the source of the noise. Erik is sitting on the ground, tucked in one of the small dark alcoves of the room, his knees drawn tightly into his chest and his head covered with his arms. 
“Erik?” You question, reaching out a hand to rest it on his shoulders. He shifts, your sketchbook falling off of his lap. An irrational feeling of fear seizes in your chest, causing you to stumble back a step. You had always worried about Erik finding your sketchbook because you knew exactly how you drew him in your pictures. You drew him unmasked, the scars he deemed hideous clear and present. You drew him the way he was around you, quiet and almost gentle, and knowing Erik, seeing that would make him feel exposed. 
You sit down next to him, tucking your legs underneath you. A long silence stretches between the two of you, the sounds of your mingling breaths the only noise filling the room. He finally sits up fully, his hand coming to rest on the cover of your sketchbook. “Erik? What is the matter?” You ask gently, resting your hand on top of his. 
He turns to face you, his eyes red and slightly puffy, as he says, “I was not aware of the depth of your feelings for me, ma chérie (mon chéri). How much you find me worthy of your love.” He unfolds his long legs, slowly standing and offering you a hand. You take it and he pulls you up, bringing you in close to his chest. “I will always love and cherish you ma chérie (mon chéri).” He pauses, running a rough finger over your cheek and looking deep in your eyes. “You make me a better man and I do not want to imagine my life without you.” 
You tilt your head to place a gentle kiss on his lips, letting your forehead rest on his. “Erik, I love you as well.” You take a small step back, bending down to pick up your discarded sketchbook. You flip to the drawing you had finished earlier that day, gently pushing the open book into his hands. “This is how I see you Erik. You are an angel, beautiful and radiant, even without the mask.” You whisper, giving him a soft smile. You hoped that he would eventually see himself as you saw him, as your angel, an angel of music.
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feliix · 4 years
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Icing ✦ JJK (18+)
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✦  Pairing: Jungkook x Reader ✦ Word count: 2.5k ✦  Rating: M  
✦  Genre: smut, fluff, crack (if you think I’m funny)
✦  Summary: Baking with your boyfriend sounds like a good idea until he makes a mess and then gets a boner. You know where it goes from there.
✦  Warnings: explicit smut, fingering, pussy slapping, spanking, cum play, unprotected sex, established relationship
✦ Requested by @luxekook​: “TAKE TWO: KOOK + COCKTAIL W/ SOME HOT CHOCOLATE BC HE FLUFFY AF” & This Anon: “I had an idea! Jk and reader are attempting to bake. Including a flour fight, playful arguing, and batter tasting and it’s really cutesy 🥺 but could turn 👀”
✦  A/N: I got a little carried away and this may no longer be a drabble anymore oopsies! I am still accepting drabble requests based on these guidelines!! Thank you to @jintobean​ and @bangtiddies​ for giving me the hype to post this because I needed it, ily both ♥︎ (also this is not fully edited so sorry)
✦ Written for the Drinks and Drabbles game hosted by @bangtan-dreamland​ and BHQ
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“Jungkook stop you’re making a mess!”
A cloud of flour coats the air as Jungkook attempts to send a cup through the sifter. His sifting motion is a little too intense, the powder ending up all over your kitchen counter instead of in the bowl like the recipe called for.
“This is why I don’t bake,” he laughs, placing his hand down on the counter top to coat it with the white powder. By the devilish look in his eye you knew exactly what was coming next.
“Jungkook please don’t,” you say calmly as your arms raise in surrender, trying all methods to call a truce. Taking a few steps backward, you do your best to get away from the flour-handed boy, but to your demise your back meets the cold metal of the refrigerator. Jungkook approaches closer, hands stretched outwards as you turn your head, attempting to shield yourself. Before he gets too close you take a deep breath, holding your inhale as your eyes slam shut – like that would even prevent you from the disaster that was on the verge of occurring.
All the muscles in your body tighten as you felt his presence directly in front of you, his breath beating down the side of your neck. When nothing happens you slowly release your pent up breath, cracking your eyes open to see what Jungkook was actually up to.
Finally relaxing your thoughts, you see him standing straight in front of you, hands by his sides and eyes staring down at your smaller figure. A furrowed brow forms on your face as you begin opening your mouth, ready to question his intentions. Much to your dismay, Jungkook had other plans.
With the excessive amount of flour coating his hands, Jungkook brings them up level with your face. Time slows as you watch his hands move closer and closer to each other. Preparing yourself for the worst, you suck in as much precious air as you can. And then it hits you.
A while cloud of flour floats through the air, coating your face, clothing, and the insides of your mouth. The devilish smirk on his face returned before he was turning around, sprinting in the opposite direction of the house knowing he was about to get it.
“You’re such a dick!” You yell, chasing after him through the living room and to the bedroom where he had run into. Legs no match for Jungkook’s quick movements, he scoots past you and darts into the connected bathroom, slamming the door behind him and hiding from you like a little kid. “Open the door!” Your warning holds no value, not exactly sure what you’re going to do once you actually face him; but you sure are amped up enough to try and beat his ass. Although, you knew damn well how that would end.
“I don’t think so,” he taunts back, out of breath and wheezing from how many obstacles he encountered on his way to the bathroom to escape your wrath. A grin was spread wide across his face as he listened to you huff and puff on the other side of the door. There was nothing better than pissing you off – you were really cute when you were mad.
“Jungkook! I swear to god open this door right now!” You nearly yell, pounding your fist on the door in hopes it would finally make him open up. Shuffling ensues behind the door and you can hear him getting ready to face you, slightly worried at the extent of your wrath.
As the door swings open he meets his flour faced girlfriend, covered from head to toe in white powder. He can’t help but burst out laughing at your appearance, standing cross armed in the doorway as you look at him with a solemn expression. It was adorable.
“It's not funny! I’m a mess and the kitchen’s a disaster,” you try to remain serious, but it's too hard to hold back from joining in on this gigglefest. You clutch your stomach as laughter racks your body, hindering your ability to stand up straight.
After the laughter finally subsides Jungkook sits you down on the side of the tub, wetting a washcloth to use to wipe the flour residue off your face. Cheeks sore and stomach aching from all the giggles, Jungkook’s sweet gestures were the icing on the unfinished cake. The way his eyes were so concentrated on making sure each dot of flour was carefully removed kept you in awe. How could someone be such a brat 5 minutes ago now handle you with such care? He was really a keeper.
“There,” he says as he places the damped rag down on the side of the tub, standing back up and extending a hand out to you. Standing up in front of him he gives you a bunny-like smile, admiring your newly clean features, “Beautiful.” Blushing at his comment, you pick your head up to meet his eyes, only to be stopped dead in your tracks mid-way.
“Why are you hard? I'm literally covered in flour,” you question, reaching out in front of you to grab at your boyfriends dick teasingly. Jungkook flinches mildly in response, jumping back a little bit to escape your touch. Things between you and Jungkook were pretty open, neither of you were ever shy about calling each other out for being horny fucks, and neither of you were embarrassed about it either. 
“I’m always hard when I’m around you,” he smirks devilishly as he wiggles his eyebrows in a teasing manner.
“You’re gross!” You roll your eyes, standing up to swat at him as he crosses his arms in defense. You both knew where things were headed from here. It didn't need to be some grand gesture or passionate kiss to turn either of you on, just a random boner and a little bit of excitement and you were good to go.
“So… are we gonna have sex now or what?” He asks, wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling your body into his. A joking scoff leaves your throat as you lean into him, your ear meeting his chest as he kisses the top of your head sweetly.
With a crook of your head you were turning on your heels to face the door, walking into your bedroom with ease. Jungkook follows behind you as you take your spot on the bed, sitting by the edge as he leans over you.
His hand grazes your thigh as you sit on the bed, him gently pushing you back into a lying position while his body moves over yours. His chocolate eyes focus on each of your features as he hovers over you, amazed by your beauty and wondering how he got so lucky. Placed under him you waited for him to make a move, so badly wanting to just wrap your hand around the back of his neck and push his lips to yours.
Time seemed to tick by slower and slower as his lips finally began approaching yours; your eyes staring down as his lips as his tongue ran over them gently. When his mouth finally meets yours all is good in the world. Electricity flows through your body each time he kisses you, the spark between you never dying. His soft lips caressed your own so gently, taking his time to make each movement count. Each light exhale from his nose warming your cheek and sending goosebumps to litter your skin.
He deepens the kiss as his hand wraps around the backside of your neck. His thumb moves in small motions along your ear as he holds your head delicately in his hand. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to notice your eyes were begging him for more. The small movements and shifts in his body language could tell you that he was lusting for more too.
In a swift movement Jungkook breaks the kiss, leaving your chest heaving from your desire-filled kiss. The demeanor in Jungkook’s eyes quickly shifts. What once was lust filled and dark transforms to something more fiery, his eyes narrowing and his lips curling upwards as he leans in towards your ear. “I’m gonna ice you like that cake we were supposed to make.”
Jaw dropping at his unusual choice of dirty talk, you lick your lips trying to come up with an equally playful response. He withdraws his head back to look at the dazed expression on your face, “Will you just shut up and put your dick in me already?”
“Can do,” He says as his fingers hook on the sides of your shorts and into your underwear, immediately ripping them down your legs with one swift motion. He grins to himself at your exposed lower half placed perfectly beneath him. His eyes wander your body in admiration, the cockiest look plastered across his face.
Standing up, he grabs the collar of his shirt before he rips the fabric over his head and wiggles out of his dark jeans, kicking them off to the side. While he’s busy undressing himself you take it into your own hands to rid yourself of your own sweatshirt. You lift the fabric over your head and carelessly throw the garment off the bed.
“No bra today?” His eyebrows raise in your direction, his dick being swept up with a firm hand, “Sweet.”
“Can you stop acting like a horny 16 year old boy for like 20 minutes,” you sigh, secretly amused with this fuck boy persona he likes to sport. He does look unbelievably hot with that smug look on his face though…
“I’ll act like a horny 23 year old, just for you,” he smirks to himself at the banter, walking back over to you as he pumps his cock in his hand a few times. Can’t help but rolling your eyes at him again, you let out a mockingly annoyed sigh.. As annoyed as you wanted to be, his little act was too cute for you to hold back small giggles from escaping your tightly sealed lips.
Reaching out in front of you, you grab onto his wrists, pulling him in closer. Jungkook’s hand remains wrapped around his dick, pumping it slowly to full erection as he gazes down at you, “Spread ‘em.”
You follow his orders, placing a hand on each knee and opening your legs to display your damp cunt to him. With his free hand he reaches down, dragging his middle and index finger along your slit; your eyes following the slow motion of his hand. Once he reaches the end he finishes with a playful slap to your clit. Wincing in reaction, you look up at him with needy eyes – you wanted more.
His hands grab a hold of your hips, flipping you over so that you're laying with your chest placed to the mattress, legs dangling off the bed. A hand is brought up to Jungkook’s mouth, coating his digits with a layer of saliva before bringing it back down to your pussy. His fingers trace your entrance as arousal begins to spill from your hole. Your arousal is collected by his fingertips, using it as lubricant to circle around your clit before dipping a finger into your cunt.
Your ass automatically moves back into his hand, begging him to give you more. Jungkook takes your hint as his fingers slip past your entrance to caress your walls. Tightening around his digits, you feel a fire begin to burn in your belly as his fingers pump in and out of you. It was so soon and too sudden, and Jungkook had every intention of holding you off until he could be inside you.  
Walls clench around nothing as he withdrawals his fingers from your cunt, leaving you whining in response. His hand is quick to line himself up with your entrance, pushing into you ruggedly as your body tenses up. He gives you a second to relax as your body adjusts to his size, your walls stretching deliciously as you accommodate his length.
With your fists grasping for the sheets Jungkook begins thrusting his hips slowly – lining the tip at your entrance and then plunging back into you again. His hands roam down the curve of your back, landing at the swell of your ass. He gives it a light squeeze followed by a playful spank; not hard enough to hurt but just enough to make you clench down around him.
You both fall silent as the sounds slapping from his balls against your pussy fill the room. Breath is sucked out of you at one hard thrust in particular; stars forming at the back of your eyes and your mouth salivating at the ever increasing pleasure bestowing upon you.
Growing needy for release you buck your hips back at him, meeting his thrusts and sending Jungkook deeper inside of you. A loud moan escapes Jungkook’s lips as he feels the tip of his dick press against a more sensitive area, your walls gripping around him harder and sucking him in.
“I’m close,” you manage to exhale out between moans. Jungkook’s fingers dig deeper into your sides as you grind your ass back on him, arching your back as far as you could to feel every inch of him. A choked whine falls from your mouth as Jungkook’s fingers meet your clit. Rolling the bud between his fingertips sends you into a full blown frenzy; chasing your much needed high as his hips drive harshly into your ass.
The coil in your lower abdomen snaps, eyes closing so harshly that teardrops squeeze through the corners of your eyelids and leak down the sides of your face. Cries of pleasure fill the room as your release finally arrives. Jungkook’s thrusts persist through your orgasm, not failing to chase his own pleasure after he meets your own. Legs left shaking and so fucked out you’re basically rendered immobile, all you can offer is the tightening spasms your pussy. Milking Jungkook for everything he’s worth is your top priority. 
After just a few more sharp snaps of his hips, Jungkook’s thrusts became more slow and heavy. Against your internal wishes, Jungkook decided to pull out of you, leaving your feeling empty at the loss of contact. Before you had time to even ask why, white hot spurts of cum were landing on the supple skin of your ass. Left breathless on the bed, Jungkook smears his cum across your asscheek, keeping his word and icing you like a cupcake. You were too fucked out and drained from your orgasm to complain, not that you would even want to if you could. 
The weight of Jungkook’s body presses down into the mattress next to you as he lets out an exhausted grunt. Turning your head to the other side, you meet his goofy post-sex grin, still cocky as can be.
“I think you have a little bit of flour in your hair,” his smile grows as he reaches over to ruffle the hair on your head.
“Remind me to never ask you to bake with me again.”
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‘Icing’ is copyright 2020 @parksfilter​, all rights reserved. Please do not repost on any platform or translate without permission.
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gumnut-logic · 3 years
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The Cane (Part 4)
@flyboytracy​​​ asked:
Steampunk AU: five uses for a cane and one time Scott used it for its intended purpose 😘
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Aaargh, those migraines messed with my muse on this one. Had to fight it the entire way and the cane reference is tiny. Hope you enjoy it anyway ::hugs to all::
Many thanks to @janetm74​​​ @tsarinatorment​​​ and @scribbles97​​​ for all their help and amazing support of my crazy. And to @flyboytracy​​​ for asking in the first place.
This be Steampunk AU with a mix of John snark, a little bit of wee!Tracys in a little bit of peril, some selfless Scott, and a reason you don’t want to mess with Five or her pilot.
-o-o-o-
4.
“This is very inconvenient.”
Scott stared at his brother in the dim light. “Is that an attempt at impersonating Lady Penelope?”
John stared back, dust drifting haphazardly off his hard helmet and goggles. “As you’ve said many times yourself, there is no use in panicking.”
He had to give his brother that. A sigh and he assessed their situation yet again, shining his torch about the space they found themselves in.
They were in a basement. It was likely that they were lucky, as all indications were that if they had been in any other part of the building, they would not be having this conversation or any other any time in the future. The basement had a wall of solid bedrock on one side, the building having been constructed with that in mind with half the plumbing bolted into the rock. Unfortunately, the rest of the structure had been built on sand, which promptly liquified when the earthquake hit.
Speaking of earthquake. “How long do you think before the next aftershock?”
John pulled out his notebook, took a note of the time on the watch he had strapped to his wrist, and scribbled down some math. “They are very unpredictable, but I’m hoping this last big one will give us some time. Or at least, Virgil some time to dig us out.”
Scott fiddled with his transmitter unit. There was no response on any frequency he attempted. Either the equipment was broken or something was stopping the signal from reaching his brothers. John had already pulled his apart and attempted a signal boost with no success.
They were both covered in dust, but fortunately uninjured.
But, for the moment, they were stuck.
Scott was not very good at sitting still.
“We may as well rest so we can be ready when needed.”
Scott grunted.
His brother ignored him and wiped off a large chunk of masonry with one leather-gloved hand and sat down. “You know Virgil will find us.”
Another grunt.
“Sit down, Scott. You can afford to take a minute to rest.”
He let out a breath and bit his lip, but with a sigh, he did as his brother asked.
There was silence for a moment, broken only by the sound of dust and rock settling.
“Why did you come back in?” John’s voice was crisp, clear and calm.
“You were in here.” Obviously.
“But now both of us are trapped, whereas if you had run like you should have, you could be assisting Virgil to dig me out.”
Scott’s lips thinned. What had been his line of thinking? Had there been a line of thinking? To be honest, all he could recall was the thought that John was under a building that was about to collapse and he needed saving.
His voice was a little rough. “Virgil will get us out.”
“Hmm.” John was not looking at him.
“What did you expect me to do? Leave you here to die?”
Aquamarine turned calmly to catch his eyes. “Better than both of us.”
“We’re not dead.”
“Pure chance.”
John was always ever so direct.
“But important nonetheless.”
John sighed. “Reminds me of the well.”
Scott eyed him. “Really? You’re going to bring that up again?”
“Eternally, my dear brother.” John’s smirk was exceedingly annoying. “Besides, it passes the time.”
“I would rather spend time finding a way out of here.” Scott shot to his feet and began pacing around the space they were stuck in.
“If you disturb something that brings the rest of the building down on us, I’m haunting you until the end of time.”
Scott slumped a little. His brother was right. Messing with the fragile pile was just asking for trouble. They were lucky to have room to breathe, much less walk around.
“This is the reason why you ended up in the well, Scott. You haven’t changed in twenty odd years.”
Scott glared at him. His little brother had been six at the time, Scott only ten. The two of them had gone beyond the borders of the Tracy farm in Kansas and into land they shouldn’t have. They were exploring. John, as always, was a little more cautious, but Scott was ever running ahead.
It was rather ironic that it was John who fell in the well.
It wasn’t long dug, but the planks covering it were flimsy and the winds from the previous day had obscured them. John had gone through them as if the planet had eaten him.
“John!”
Scott found his little brother clutching his leg at the bottom of the hole.
It wasn’t a very deep well, but it was deep enough to put his brother out of the reach of a ten-year-old.
“Scotty, my leg hurts.”
“I’ll get you out.” He looked around for something to help John.
Perhaps he knew in some part of his mind that this could be the wrong decision. He had no rope and no real way to reach his little brother. He should get help.
But he couldn’t leave Johnny here on his own.
The thought was terrifying from both of their perspectives.
Perhaps he would have thought it a little less terrifying if he realised what could happen if he didn’t fetch help. Because once he found a long enough stick, he reached over the edge and while doing his best to add to the length John couldn’t quite reach, he fell in the hole on top of his brother.
There were groans and tears after that.
Scott didn’t hurt himself. John had been heard to comment on multiple occasions thereafter that it was because he landed on a cushion he called brother.
Scott countered that by saying he was lucky he hadn’t been impaled by a bony limb of said scrawny brother.
In any case, they huddled together for warmth for thirty-six freezing hours until someone finally found them.
By then, both brothers were dehydrated and starving.
The lecture from their father was almost as long as their time in the well.
Their mother, pregnant with Gordon at the time, took ill with the fright and there was some seriously scary time until the little fish was born a month later…a touch early.
Virgil wouldn’t let either of his brothers out of his sight for a good year after the incident. The nine-year-old obviously terrified they would disappear again.
It became legendary in the Tracy household for good or bad.
“So, you’re saying, I should have gone for help?”
Something clunked in the pile of rubble.
John arched an eyebrow. “As I said, you haven’t learnt. Yes, Scott, you should not have dashed back into the collapsing building. When Virgil finds out, he’s going to scalp you.”
“I’m sorry that my first instinct is to protect my brothers.”
John rolled his eyes, both original and artificial. “Your first instinct should be to protect yourself so you can protect your brothers.”
Folding his arms across his chest, Scott shifted his weight onto one foot, cocking his hip. “Fine. Then explain Bermuda.”
“That was different. That was saving lives.”
“You rammed a twenty-eight gunned frigate with Five!”
“It was firing on a sinking civilian target full of over two hundred passengers, including my four brothers. Grandma was not aboard. It was a fair decision.”
Scott had to admit it had been spectacular, the huge, blue-grey, manta-ray-shaped Five had reared out of the ocean and sliced the pirate vessel in half.
International Rescue had fished the survivors out of the water and there had been minimal casualties, considering.
Five had taken damage, but her cahelium superstructure was designed to withstand something as simple as a mostly wooden hull. Some gentle care from Virgil, an assessment from Hiram, and she was declared fit and well.
They had disappeared for a while after that as the rumours ran riot. Lady Penelope managed to smooth any ruffled feathers at government level.
Scott had both commended and roasted John alive.
“You could have been killed.”
“So could have you, and Virgil and Gordon and little Allie. Was I supposed to sit back and watch?”
Another clunk from somewhere in the rubble.
Scott arched an eyebrow. “Perhaps, you know how I feel.”
“Of course, I know how you feel. We all do.”
“Then what is the problem?”
“Scott-“
But John was interrupted by another clank, this time clearly from one of the pipes against the wall.
“Virgil?” They both said it at once and hurried over to the rock face.
The clunk repeated itself and then started on a very familiar dot dot dot…
S C O T T
He reached behind and pulled his folded cane out of its sleeve on his back. Its metal tip shone dull brass in the yellow light.
He only had to tap one letter. Dot dot dot dash.
V.
Three letters came back in a hurried jumble of excited hammering. F A B.
Then…S T A T U S?
J  A N D  S   W E L L  A N D  M O B I L E.
S T A N D  B A C K ?
F A B.
Assuming Virgil was referring to the rock wall as the point of origin, the two brothers stepped as far back from it as they could.
Moments later a rumble and hiss of gears, the crash of breaking masonry and daylight suddenly shot through part of the rubble. This was quickly followed by a massive but familiar brass claw reaching in and grabbing a large chunk of rock, disappearing with it. A crunch of gravel, shove of rock…a shout. “Scott, are you in here? John?” Their goggled and fully armour-suited brother pushed the rest of the way through the pile of broken building, both claws fully extended.
“Over here, Virgil.”
Their brother’s head turned in their direction and metal shoulders sank in relief. “Oh, thank god.”
Something shifted in the rubble pile and Virgil reacted, his right claw slamming into the chunk of masonry threatening to fall. “Let’s get you out of here.”
Scott didn’t need to be told twice as the remains of the building creaked around them in warning. Grabbing John’s arm, he hustled his brother out through the gap past Virgil.
The engineer’s eyes on the both of them.
No doubt there would be a medical examination in their near future.
Shoving John gently ahead of him, Scott turned to keep an eye on Virgil.
His metal clad brother stepped back carefully, letting rock fall in his wake.
Then, as if the final domino had been tipped, the entire pile began collapsing in on itself.
Scott took a step towards Virgil only to have his arm yanked on from behind.
“Damnit, Scott protect yourself!” John dragged him through the remains of the rubble as a cloud of dust roared behind them.
“Virgil!” He dug his heels in, fighting John’s hold.
“He’s wearing his armour, Scott. You are not! Move!”
It went against everything. He had to protect his brothers first. But John was right. Neither of them was wearing enough protection. Virgil was.
He had to trust.
Trust that Virgil knew what he was doing.
When put in those terms the answer was simple. Of course, he trusted Virgil.
Perhaps it was fate he had issues with.
John dragged him clear of the building and the cloud of dust. Two, nestled on her landing struts, was a wonderful sight.
And then Gordon was grabbing at him. Alan was yelling his name and there were dusty hugs and clunking helmets.
But still the cloud…
“Virgil?”
As if summoned, his brother strode out of the haze, cogs whirring and pneumatic systems hissing, metal glinting in the sun. His goggled eyes searching until they latched onto his brothers.
Thank god.
A matter of strides and he enveloped his engineer brother in a hug, metal suit and all. “Thanks, Virg.”
His brother exhaled in a huff. “What on Earth were you thinking?” And so began the rant about worrying about a brother encased in metal when a building is falling when he wasn’t and could have been killed with a single rock. You idiot.
It went on for some time.
John smirked at him for the entire tirade.
-o-o-o-
Next
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speedypandaweasel · 3 years
Text
Change of Plans - A Yancy x Neutral! Reader
❤ REBLOGS WOULD BE APPRECIATED ❤
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 MASTERLIST
Where we left off:
So much for a lie in. You slowly rose from the cocoon of warmth you had made for yourself and you felt your toes wriggle up the bed and hiss at the exposed coldness of the room. Dragging yourself out of subconsciousness, your eyes finally decided to greet the grey interior and the black-barred window that perched just out of your arms reach. Why would they put such a tiny window if they didn’t want anyone to look out of it? Pretty pathetic actually. The Penitentiary really needed to repaint the bars, some of the black paint had flaked onto your pillow whilst you were sleeping.
You sat up, a little too quickly, and a cold, hard sensation hit the top of your body. Well good morning to you too World.
The unbearable ringing continued as you brought your arm down onto the squawking alarm clock. The room fell into a comfortable silence once more. 7:30am, not too bad, yet it could have been a little longer. Yet it was as if someone decided to balance a massive book on “how to not have a headache” on your already sore head. You’d ask Boggs for some paracetamol, or maybe some Ibuprofen as you tried to ponder on what did you do to deserve this...
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~ Chapter 5 ~
MatchBox Analysis - 2.3K Words
"I'm here to speak to Officer Boggs." You timidly spoke, playing with the hem of your shirt. The man that towered in the small door frame in front of you was the most intimidating of all: Officer Rexx.
There were rumours about him that were too obscure and dangerous to mention twice, You only happen to hear about them when you overheard a couple of prisoners talking about "the anniversary" of how he lost his previous job, whatever that meant. To be frank, you didn't want to know about whatever hell hole he wriggled out of and treaded on eggshells around him, even if you weren't speaking to him. Something about that man caused you to feel insecure about something that you couldn't point your finger at, but there was no doubt that it was there.
"Yeah, he's in here." He paused for a moment. "You're one of the newer ones around here, aren't you? I've seen you around but never had the pleasure to meet."
He stuck out his grubby hand, his sausage fingers extended shortly at you, waiting for you to touch them. You grimaced before wiping that expression off your face. Rule 1: Never acknowledge the fingers.
You stuck out your hand bravely and shook his greasy one. His strong grip tightened around your knuckles as he shook hard, almost breaking your frail fingers.
"Well, I'll just go get him. Stay there." He spat. The door firmly closed behind him, the staff room's view blocked once again. You peeped through the mesh windows and managed to decipher the blurred silhouette of the sofa and coffee counter. You backed away as the door swung open again to the familiar face of Officer Boggs, his much shorter height made you relax second by the second.
"Oh hi Y/N, shouldn't you be outside?" He asked before shutting the door behind him, leaving the both of you outside in the wide hallway.
"Well I am, but I forgot to give you this from last night." You replied, planting your hand into your pocket before pulling out the owners key. Boggs let out a chuckle as his rosy cheeks grew even merrier.
"I forgot I gave you this! I'm glad that at least someone doesn't take my naivety for granted" He continued. "I respect that about you."
He unhooked the jingling keys from his beltline and clipped the Cafertiera key on the chain. He had a proud collection of keys to his name - being a veteran member of the Prison, it did have its perks.
"Well thank you, I really appreciate that Boggs. You know, sometimes I don't feel like I fit in here myself." Sounded cliche, you internally facepalmed yourself. Normally you wouldn't be telling this to anyone, but Boggs had been there since forever so it was nice to tell at least someone your true thoughts about staying here.
"Oh now don't think like that, every prisoner when they first come in her feels like that, but don't worry, I'm sure that the others will welcome you soon. Have you tried talking to them? I know you're not the socially inclined person but give it a shot. Who knows? You might actually enjoy their company" He concluded.
When Boggs gave advice, it could go two ways: either it was incredibly awful which ended in bad decisions being drawn from it, or it could be genuinely heartwarming and sincere words of wisdom. Thankfully, this was one of those pieces.
You allowed yourself to run over the speech the superior had just given and smiled. You could spark up a conversation with Yancy, you could ask him about what that poem meant! Maybe that could be the starting point of breaking out of your introverted shell.
"Thanks Boggs, I really do appreciate you." You said, before heading off outside.
"Have fun! But not too much fun, I don't want for you to get hurt!" His yells sounded down the empty corridor.
The mid-day sun blazed down on the steaming concrete, the prisoners having that work-out glow. Yancy had rolled his short sleeves even shorter, exposing his lesser-known tattoos, and his private box was stuffed in his trouser leg conveniently, away from the guard's view. If anyone found out what was in this box..well, it would ruin him.
Racing became tiresome after a couple of hours so the prisoners resorted to lazily running laps around the small quarter, this included the songbird himself.
"I tell's ya T, you wanna stop off for a few minutes? this box is gettin' uncomfortable." He protested, shifting his weight from one foot to another, finding a comfortable spot in his trouser leg.
"Why, you chickening out? Scared that someone will beat your record?" T retorted.
The prisoners slowed to a stop. Yancy regrettably paused his track game and attempted to get his ragged breath back.
"No ya dingus, it's 'cause dis box is scratchin' my skin off! I swear I's bleedin' down my shin by now."
Tiny's retort turned into concern as they pulled over to the side of the quarter. Once out of sight, Yancy slowly rolled his trouser leg up to his shin and took out the small, worn-out box from the bottom of his leg.
"Your leg hasn't been sawed off Yance, but you sure you need to keep it there? You could hurt yourself."
Yancy chortled shortly, not willing to admit that his friend was right. After what happened last time, he was going to learn from his mistakes. He rubbed his fading ankle bruise as he remembered the time he stayed in the medical ward. But the question was: where was he going put the little thing?
His eyes scanned the usual nooks and crannies that he had hid stuff in before, but word somehow got out and now everyone was using them for their secret stashes. Great - so much for having the upper hand.
His eyes continued to look for somewhere to stuff the thing until his ears pricked up on the outside door swinging open. His frustrated face broke into a smile as he saw you walk out timidly, and perching on a weight bench.
"Here, can youse hang on to it for a hot minute, just don't open it alight," He said, his curious eyes never leaving your sight.
Tiny was startled. The Boss never let them hold anything of his, let alone the one thing he persistently never left out of his sight. Tiny slipped the matchbox into their shoe before taking a squat down the brick wall as they watched their mate stride over to the newbie, but chose not to follow suit.
You picked at the seat cushion like it was the most interesting thing ever to you, whilst plucking up the courage to go and talk to the most confident person out here. Your eyes managed to look up. partially blinded from the sun but saw the small huddles of prisoners near the water pitches, walking around, or down by the blind spot. Guards stood at every entrance broadly, letting people in and out of the area, their moist uniforms made you wonder how the hell they managed to keep composure in this heat.
Your moment abruptly came as you saw the man of the hour coming towards you, his wide shoulders fully exposed to the heats rays. You knew he worked but w-w-wow.
"Finally decided to join in the fun eh?" He sprung up the conversation.
Chuckling, you look down, embarrassed and in amusement "And I'm guessing that this is the newest trouser look. Is this asymmetric chic? or is this just you trying to use illusion to become taller?" You threw a double whammy at him.
Yancy's shocked eyes bored into your own mischievous ones for a brisk moment. Suddenly, he exaggeratedly placed a hand on his chest before crumbling to the grass floor. "Oh de pain! I can't bear it anymore! Not another short joke!"
Other people around the quarter edge were starting to laugh along with his flailing and happily applauded when he finished his piece. The cheering and jeering died down as the conversation drifted back to normal, as Yancy dragged his trouser leg down and sidled up next to you and he bumped his hard shoulder next to yours.
"What a Drama Queen." You continued, letting out a small smile.
"What can I's say, I got's to get ma training in somewhere." He replied "So how's it been with you? Finish dat book yet?"
It was as if he read your mind! The topic of the poetry book caught your attention as you chipped away at your social shell. "Uh, not yet, but I did want to ask you a couple of questions about poem 19. You know, the one you recommended I read?"
The prisoner stretched his arms and placed them behind himself. "Oh yeah! It's one of ma favourites! I personally thinks its about de good and bad sides to love and once you've actually caught feelings for someone, it pains you to do things dat even surprise yaself. Youse got me?"
You would have never known that Yancy had a passion for literature, just listening to him made you even more dedicated to spending time with him. Boggs was right with his advice, it didn't bruise your ego that bad to socialise with new people, as it made you question what other things the man had up it sleeve - or trouser leg.
You rephrased yourself, "Ok then Yance, do you read poems often then?" your feet started to dance around the grassy floor, flattening pieces of green.
"So do you analyse poems often then Yancy?"
The man interrupted you "Oh please, call me Yance, only the big dog calls me Yancy."
"I used to when I was a youngin', my family hads a nice library ya see. Dey's had Shakespeare, Jane Austen, and some oder authors I can't remember but when youse a fabulous actor like myself, you gotta keep up ya noggin' in check." He smiled and looked out onto the busy area, almost reminiscing about his past life.
He never liked to bring up the subject of his past but when Yacny was with you, it felt- right. To finally talk about childhood memories and just laugh about them, instead of it always being dragged back to the soul reason why he was locked up at Happy Trails in the first place.
His strong arm planted on the side of your small shoulder as he gave you a tight squeeze. "How about youse? Do you read?"
"I-Uh... I"
Words formed in your mouth, yet your tongue was on holiday, not responding to any sentence your brain was throwing at you. Butterflies were born in your stomach as your face started to feel warm, too warm for your liking. What was happening? Were you having sunstroke!?
"Youse ok? Ya looking a little warm d'ere" Yancy said, dropping his arm from your side. "Youse want me to go grab you some water?"
This signalled your tongue to finally come back to work. "Oh. No, I'm fine thanks and yeah, I read, that's what I was going to ask about you actually." You said, forcing confidence.
"No way! Heh, I guess great minds think alike huh?" He replied, grinning his addicting smile. He looked over to where he left Tiny and an idea sprung in his scheming mind. "Hey, youse wanna come over to the wall, I got's a friend who you could meet. I mean, only if you wanna?" Yancy laughed, trying to sweetly coax you deeper into socialisation.
You hesitated. This man sure was alluring, but risking another episode like that caused you to reconsider. You bit your bottom lip, slightly, your eyebrows became sewn together as you weighted up your options. Either go over and run your social battery out completely, or decline and recover from this moment.
"Thanks Yance, but I think I'm done for the day." You responded. "All this talking and warm heat" and maybe some other things "has made my head spin a little."
"Ok, well if youse's sure." Yancy stood up once more and punched your shoulder "See you around Keys!"
You saw him walk back to his mate and sit down together under the shade of the building. You blissfully made your way back inside of Happy Trails, back with you and your own thoughts.
Its blasting air conditioner made your arms tingle as you pulled out a chair in the Cafeteria and went to reach for the poetry book. The silence hung much thicker in the air as you sat uncomfortably. Is this what withdrawal felt like? To be isolated not a minute after being surrounded by people. You kind of missed the feeling of having someone to talk to, but everyone had their boundaries - even you. You tried not to linger on the thought of feeling like you let Yancy down. He gave you the opportunity to help you overcome your fears but you didn't take it. Maybe next time you would take it, but for now, you did something new today: You should be proud of yourself.
You scanned around at the empty chairs and tables, the occasional guard whistling by the Cafeteria's door frame before you brought your head to the window. Your eyes soon spotted Yancy sashaying around with his friend. They must have said something funny because he soon showed his pearly whites, his chest rising and falling as his strong hand clutched his chest. Your eyes couldn't tear themselves away from this scene. The jailbird was the only person who actually tried with you. Smiling to yourself, you looked back up and your breath hitched. He was looking directly back at you and giving you a small wave. His smaller companion followed suit, shooting their hand straight up, frantically joining in. You sheepishly waved back before opening the book from you left off.
"Missed me Y/N?"
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leftonraed · 4 years
Text
The Night We Met - Episode 1
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pairing : Taehyung x OC genre : bodyguard!au, singleparent!au, idol!au word count : 2.4k summary — Taehyung gets terrible news and finds himself in a delicate situation
Prologue | ep.1 | ep.2 | ep.3 | ep.4 | ep.5 | ep.6 | ep.7 
The past month has been a complete blur. If you asked Taehyung to narrate the course of events after the moment he had been in charge of his niece, he wouldn’t be able to, especially when that small time frame included the one event he thought he’d never attend this quickly in his lifetime —
Hwiin got a little startled after he answered the door. While gauging his mood after several weeks of silence, she couldn’t take her eyes off the sullen man who seemed absent.
He was dressed in a dark suit. His hair was fully covering his eyes and had been dyed black, she was just at that moment able to notice it’d never been that long before.
The small heels of his shoes echoed loudly inside as he shuffled towards the living-room.
The gloomy winter sky, visible through the wide windows, narrowed the penthouse and gave the impression they lived in a black and white movie.
The shades of grey clashed unpleasantly with the barely audible cartoons displayed on the wide flat screen where Hina was sitting in front of. She hardly glanced Hwiin’s way.
She removed her purse and coat and put them on the couch while Taehyung kissed and whispered words to his niece. He didn’t get any response either. He stood up and joined Hwiin.
“I didn’t know how to do this-” he trailed softly as her eyes followed his hands feebly unfolding a paper with her eyes. He cleared his throat constricted with sorrow, “I wrote a couple of things down. If I forgot anything, send a text.”
She took it from him and realised she hadn’t said anything yet. What were you supposed to say in this situation, she wondered. The man she thought she knew so well almost struck her as a stranger and left her struggling for the right words.
Hwiin carefully looked up at him and felt her heart hurting at his sight. She should’ve been there for him those past weeks. She became angry with herself the longer she stared at his forlorn expression.
“Taehyung...” She hugged him tightly, as her way to make it up to him. He remained still. He didn’t want Hina to see him break down and cry.
“Thank you,” he only managed to whisper before she took a step back.
She quietly watched him walk out and never before had she felt a greater need to be by his side. She didn’t do anything of this sort.
She walked around the couch to sit next to the little girl she had been requested to look after for the day and tried to empty her mind. All she wanted was for this day to end.
So did he.  
___________________________________________
He didn’t seem present during the entirety of the funeral.
His parents, he used to be so close to but had drawn away from after his debut as an idol, didn’t even manage to make him say anything. They didn’t bother him about it and respected his own way of mourning the family loss.
Taehyung could sense his brother’s in-laws itching to ask him about Hina but held themselves.
While he made other attendees think he looked elsewhere and “too expressionless” in their opinion, he’d actually been doing his best to keep it to himself. He couldn’t tell what helped him hide his emotions, it was so unlike him but he had held steady.
He was right behind his home’s door when he heard Hina’s cries before he even walked in.
Worry instantly frowned his face as he found Hwiin holding the little girl in her arms, soothing her.
“She’s been crying the whole time since she woke up from her nap,” she informed him with a hint of despair. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”
Hina looked at him and he felt his feet naturally pulling him towards her when her arms stretched outward in his direction.
He held her closely and she tightened him to herself, burying her face in his neck.
He would never know for sure but she sounded grief-stricken and gave him the impression that he was the only one left capable of assuaging her.
Taehyung felt his legs give in and knelt down.
He was finally giving in.
Tears, held deeply back within, coursed down in an unbroken stream to dampen her dress. His body hiccoughed his ache so violently, it seemed it wanted to retaliate for the strains he’d inflicted himself.
Hwiin watched silently with sorrowful eyes as the two of them sought comfort in each other. She caught herself wondering if his niece somehow understood she’d never see her parents again.
__________________________________________
Taehyung never questioned his brother’s wish to have him take care of his daughter if something were to happen. He isn’t living the ideal kind of life to raise a toddler and there are many to criticize him about it, his manager being the first of them, but having Hina feels surprisingly right.
He’s grateful to have her keeping his mind off things but she also reminds him unintentionally of her father and the other way around will inevitably happen.
He sometimes ponders the doubts he has as a caretaker, unpleasant thoughts that come flooding his mind every time he’d fail doing the right thing or get rejected by her; he gives a chance to others scenarios playing out different outcomes but they never satisfy him.
He seeks comfort in the reality that he needs a lot of time to get better at it and that there’s no reason to rush. It’ll give him enough to make his mind about the way he’ll have to address their reality one day.
One of his priorities is to make sure his home has everything his niece would need. This meant visiting his brother’s empty house. Hwiin had asked him if he’d need her but he preferred to be on his own and planned not to linger longer than necessary.
__________________________________________
“You didn’t tell me what you’re planning to do about the few shows left,” Hwiin suddenly initiates, locking her phone.
Taehyung sighs when Hina whines at his umpteenth attempts to keep her from drawing on the wall. Defeated, he stands up to show his manager out.
“Did you hear from Seojun?”
“Nope. I sent him a text a few days ago. He never answers my calls.”
“I can’t see myself going anywhere with her. And I’m definitely not bringing her with me.”
It’s Hwiin’s turn to sigh, although she does it out of light exasperation. “What about my babysitter idea?”
“Out of question.” She lifts her head at his sudden firm tone. “I don't want her to be around strangers.”
“What will you do if you don’t hear from him anymore? Taehyung, you can’t stay at home indefinitely.”
“If I have no choice-” He cuts off himself. “I’m sure everyone will understand.”
She pinches her lips and cranes her neck up to stare somewhere in the empty hallway, keeping her calm.
Leaning on the hand he’s holding the door with, Taehyung tilts his head to glance at her with a hint of amusement.
“I’ll call him myself.”
She looks back at him and blinks slowly, thankful. They say their goodbyes and he closes the door.
When he comes back, Hina’s still putting the finishing touches to her art and Taehyung ponders the thought of throwing the felt tips away once she’s done with them.
He plops himself down on the couch and takes his phone out of his pocket. He quickly finds his bodyguard’s number and makes a phone call. The line rings once.
“Taehyung!”
“H-hi,” he answers, surprised at the man’s quick answer. “It’s been a while. How are you?”
“I’m happy you called! I’m doing really good. What about you?”
“I’m okay- I think.”
“I know you’ve heard it when we last talked but I’m really, really sorry.”
“Thank you. I’m doing okay, ‘promise.”
Seojun doesn’t need to see him to doubt his words but gives him the benefit of the doubt. He tries to change the subject, “How’s the little one doing?”
“Good…” Taehyung’s gaze is directed at Hina's long hair. “I still didn’t get one word from her though.”
“Don’t worry about it, she’ll talk when she’s ready. You shouldn’t force these things.”
Taehyung hums in thought. “How did your break go? How’s everyone ?”
“Very good. Everyone’s doing great.”
“Glad to hear that!” Taehyung smiles a lazy grin and remembers the purpose of his call. “Seojun, I’m sorry I bring this a little abruptly but- when do you think you’ll be coming back? Hwiin told me she tried to contact you-”
“Ah yes,” he suddenly exclaims. “I actually wanted to talk to you directly.”
Amused, Taehyung’s brows furrow slightly. “Right.”
“I’ve never liked the way she looked down on people. But you do well to bring that up.”
He frowns a little more, anticipating.
“I… I don’t think I’ll be coming back anytime soon, Taehyung.” There’s a short pause. “I've been thinking about it lately and we’ve talked a lot with my wife… The fact is that- my family misses me and I miss them.”
Taehyung doesn’t know what to say immediately, “I’m sorry to hear that... But I understand.”
“Really? It’s just that- they’ve barely seen me the past six years and I thought maybe I needed to extend that break for a little longer while.” Seojun feels terrible now that he’s brought the news. As if the death of his brother wasn’t enough of a change.
“I totally do- I just- I don’t know what to do to keep working and look after my niece at the same time. I mean, th- there’s no one else I trust equally to look after her when I can’t.”
“I know and I’ve made sure you guys wouldn’t be left hanging.” He’s quick to reply, “I found someone to take over. Your agency’s already abreast of it. They’re okay to hire that person but they told me they wouldn’t make any decision until they get your last word.”
“Can you tell me more about him?”
“It’s actually a woman, she’s around your age. She’s attended the same security school I did and was the top of her class. I know her personally and was the one who offered to take the helm. I wouldn’t recommend anyone else to stand in for me.”
Taehyung would never doubt Seojun. They regard each other as family, so if Seojun trusted that woman enough to take charge of his responsibilities, he wouldn’t question him further.
“Okay.”
And it’s not like he could think of a better solution to tell Hwiin.
Seojun is relieved when he hears his answer, however he can feel he doesn’t seem totally convinced.
“I promise you, you won’t miss me once she starts.”
___________________________________________
“Hina,” complains Taehyung. “Why are you being so difficult? I thought you liked mashed carrots.”
He’s helpless and covered in what once has been her lunch. She’s on the verge of crying and shaking her legs, irritated. Her arm sways her small plate and Taehyung catches it before she makes an even bigger mess. She starts whining loudly.
“One second,” he mutters while cleaning her stained face before standing up to take her out of the high chair. She stops crying and leaves to watch cartoons still on T.V.
“I’ll go change. I’ll be in the bedroom,” he announces like he doesn’t know he’ll be ignored and leaves.
The doorbell rings a couple of minutes after, taking both Taehyung and Hina by surprise.
Seeing her uncle nowhere around, she stands up to totter toward the entrance holding onto her soft toy. Taehyung just got rid of his dirty clothes when he decides to come out only dressed in a pair of red boxers, remembering he’s expecting Hwiin to come by.
He finds Hina trying to reach for the handle, perched on her tippy-toes.
“Let me help you,” he smiles lightly at her when he looks down, seeing her small face after she craned her neck to the fullest. He taps in the security code and opens and she hurries to push it wide open.
“Hello.”
Hina walks to go behind him at the sight of a stranger. There’s a short silent while that lasts awfully long the second Taehyung understands he’s in his underwear and that he doesn’t recognize you.
“You’re not Hwiin,” he trails quietly.
You shake your head looking back at him very calmly.
From the corner of your eye, you notice his niece hiding behind his leg, peeking shyly at you. You squat at her level and blood rushes up Taehyung’s cheeks.
“You’re Hina, right?” You look at her. “This is for you.”
He pulls himself together. “You didn’t have to,” he chuckles abashed.
His niece stares at the toy piano you offer her. You press one key to make a sound and lit it up in hopes to get her pleased with it.
Taehyung can’t help but think a gift is the last thing she deserves after the tantrum she threw just minutes ago. “Say thank you, Hina.”
She carefully takes it from you and there’s a hint of a satisfied smile on your lips.
“Who’s Hwiin?” You gaze up at Taehyung.
Shit. You need to get up. He needs to put on some clothes, he thinks.
“My manager. Are you-”
“Y/N, your new bodyguard.” You straighten up with your hands behind you.
“Taehyung. Nice to meet you.” He feels Hina, pulling the hem of his boxers and swiftly takes her in his arms. She keeps an iron grip on the toy. “Uh- Please, come in.”
You step inside when he moves away and closes the door behind you. He stares at you as you take a look around, surprised you remain unaffected by his lack of clothing but still thinks it’s not the appropriate way he should have welcomed you in.
“I’m sorry about the mess, I didn’t know you’d come home so early.” He explains as he puts down Hina. “Make yourself at home. ‘Be right back.”
You watch him disappear without a word, his niece follows him while gazing curiously at you. You bring your eyes back on the splendid view the penthouse overlooks.
When Taehyung comes back, closely followed, you’re still standing nearby the window. He’s intrigued and curious as to what made you so special in Seojun’s eyes.
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Feedback very much appreciated  Reblog if you wish to read more
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1oserjk · 4 years
Text
— full stop | still good without luck
when life was becoming a bit steadier
+ here is a clearer puzzle piece of oc n jk’s backstory :D
word count: 2.4k
x full stop masterlist | x masterlist
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Three years after he finally landed a solid grip on the shop and enough money came in to pay back the bills including the newly bought house and his studio, is when he came barreling in your shared bedroom door with a complicated-looking bouquet in his hand.
Your first instinctive reaction was to recoil and question the cheesy gesture.
“Oh god. What’s this?” You stupidly pointed—poked towards the obvious. They were very living, giving them a long appreciative look knowing in a matter of days they would wither and fall off if you didn’t snip the stems and soak them in water soon enough. 
“Flowers, obviously. For you.”
You reluctantly took them into your arms, listening intently to the way the thin plastic rubbed against your bare skin.
You wondered if he would be okay with you picking off the petals of some of the white flowers to set out in the sun for a day, before soaking them in oil to preserve the fragrance.
Stupid crafts like that always made you happy. He knew that.
“It’s a pretty pairing,” you honestly said, staring at the stark contrast between the white and the slightly familiar dirty orange. You think you’ve seen it in one of the pages of your A-Z Of Perennials book your mother gifted you last summer.
“They’re your favorite,” he explained as if it was a fact you never knew about yourself.
You nodded. “They are.”
He took a slight breath in before fully releasing to say, “And this lily is my birth flower.” He put his hands in the pockets of his slacks to stop himself from anxiously fidgeting. You thought it was cute. “I’m personally fond of the meaning of them.”
You smiled. “And what exactly could that meaning be?”
“Please—“ his eyes set out for yours when he finished, “—love me.”
The message you received through each petal achingly clear: that Jeon Jungkook was a man made solely for you and nobody else. Somebody so incredibly needy in only the best ways possible, eager to hand you the world — that was your husband and the father of your child.
“Corny, huh,” he attempted to brush off, but you saw right through his prideful facade, the tint to his cheeks lacking in help for the man standing right in front of you.
Jungkook was always the type to go soft at the romanticization of things, as if you were watching a Studio Ghibli film right at the center of his dark-colored orbs, the projection of the simplicity of all things beautiful. It was a solid contrast to your realist characteristic you held, but being with Jungkook all those years only made it easier to fall back and dream for a bit with him.
You carefully set the flowers down on the dresser beside you to wrap your arms around him, his eyes being the easiest thing to fully immerse yourself into.
“Not at all,” you said, shaking your head, “I think they fit you well.”
He hummed, hands easily finding the curve of your hips and landing them firmly atop the thin layer of your dress. He was automatically up to no good when his lips had quirked to one side and his eyes flashed a gleam for a millisecond. “Being pretty?”
You hit at his arm, leaning your head closer to his until your noses met and intuitively slotted at just the right angle. “No,” you lead, lips brushing at the single syllable, “being needy.”
He scrunched his and pulled away from your lips as a form of punishment. Eyes set on the prize, so driven for the one thing you find yourself craving the past week, standing on the tips of your toes and eagerly reaching for a kiss.
He scoffed quietly, putting up a false front. He gave it to you easily and without even a fight, “I’m the needy one? Look who’s kissing me.”
“Please,” you reasoned and puckered up for another, “This is me showing my appreciation and affection for the flowers. Really, thank you.”
He dug his face into your neck and traced the bare skin of your back with the tip of each of his slender fingers. He said something quietly about liking that particular dress on you, his fingers playing along with the open slit to emphasize his appreciation. You shivered slightly from the contact and leaned most of your weight against him to compensate for your legs suddenly weakening.
“I’m glad you liked them,” he murmured into your skin, leaving goosebumps against the rest. “I thought it would be a nice addition to our date night.”
“Speaking of,” you began to mutter at the reminder, “It’s been so long since we’ve had a decent amount of time alone. I was surprised you were free this weekend.”
“Sorry,” he sheepishly said, “As much as I trust those two back at the shop — I don’t. But, they told me I at least needed a small break and that they would take care of interviewing for our receptionist position over the weekend.”
Your head tilted curiously to ponder, “You’re still looking for someone?”
He solemnly nodded.
“Then I might just quit and apply at yours,” you teasingly smirked, “Sounds kind of fun.”
He groans. “As much as that would go appreciated..” His hands suddenly drift down to roam your ass and hips, giving it a solid pinch to make you yelp out loud. The corner of his lips quirked. “I don’t think your mother will appreciate you wasting a degree like that. And to be honest? I don’t think I’d get much work done if you were working under me either.”
“Why not?” You didn’t exactly have the opportunity to be as creative as he was, to interact with new people, and share art the way he did. You were organized and clean though. “I’ve had to take a leave at work to focus on Yeona while you were kept busy with the shop, I want to get back to working again. Want to spend more time with you..”
He landed a solid kiss on the edge of your temple and sighed. “Baby, I promise that once business gains momentum without me having to be there, I’ll take some more time off. I feel better that you’re with our daughter for now.”
Your mouth formed to a downturn. “What about you? Jungkook, she needs her own father.”
There’s a moment of silence between the both of you, a thousand of unspoken words floated in between. Yours surrounded him with question marks.
“Do you really want to start that tonight?” He asked, tiredness stirring in his eyes.
You blinked in slight pain before erasing it completely away from his view to read it as anything more and mustered a weak smile. Your hands fidgetted but stick to simply smoothing out the lines of his dress coat.
The bite on your tongue is harsh and punishing.
“Okay,” you answered, a mustered smile easily stretched out, “Fine.”
You wondered how much longer you both would suppress the looming subject until the next argument would find its way back into conversation again.
You stepped out of his hold and observed him from a distance. His expression is given with the way he held back the same as you.
You didn’t push it for the sake of that night.
With your back turned, you grabbed for your purse and handed him a smile before offering your hand. “Let’s go before it gets too late.”
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You’ve encased his hand into your hold at the beginning of the drive, probably slightly dangerous to do but a foolish and selfish habit you had when it came to him. He doesn’t mind when they folded in between the warmth of your thighs, anyway. His driving skills were well off enough to stay stable and to occasionally run his thumb against your skin whenever he pleased.
Just feeling the span of where your short dress had risen had him stirring in his pants and already questioning, “When was the last time we had sex?”
You didn’t flinch at the abrupt question, humming to think. “Maybe about—a week ago?”
His eyes widened. “Fuck, really?”
You nodded. “Your perception of time has always been fucked..” Sitting up, you pinned him a stare, “Come on, you really don’t remember?”
Mindless sex was one of the many ways he would vow out his apology after all. He spelled out his sorry by drawing out an orgasm after orgasm. 
“No, no, I do,” he answered, “I just—didn’t expect it to be that long ago.”
Your mind begged to comment out that it was his fault for always being so damn busy.
“Okay,” he said, arm extended out, having it be enough of your fidgeting and sudden silence, “Come here and hold my hand again.”
It’s his cluelessness to note the way you felt that frustrated you the most — maybe it was just your fault for not properly voicing it out.
“Let’s not think about the last time and look forward to tonight, yeah?” You bit at a remark, reluctantly obliging, only quickly regretting it when his long fingers flexed, unattainable to let go of the raw thoughts that clumped into your head right after. Cheeky bastard. You gripped them tightly to make him hiss out, rubbing the stupid initials of yours on the back of his hand a second later.
He went on with the conversation about some big time client who was willing to spend a fuck ton of money for him to ink his whole entire back. You weren’t too surprised to hear him say that he was informed it would be free game, a general idea and vibe but overall letting Jungkook’s creativity roam free. There was a fond smile stretched upon your lips when he got giddy over it, sprouting out all of the sketch ideas he planned for his work to splay out on the man’s bare skin, eyes twinkling like a fucking kid and it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.
The car turned to an unfamiliar road and it’s only then your eyebrows furrowed. Your mind perked at the fact you’ve been clueless for that long, not even recognizing the route to your unannounced destination. “I don’t even know where we’re going.”
He turned the wheel again. “Somewhere nicer.” That was the theme for that night, nicer—better—greater than usual.
You eagerly started to look around, like the GPS in front of you didn’t indicate you would be there in the next ten minutes. “Where? What’s the name of the place?” 
He chuckled. “Sit back and wait for it, alright? I promise you’ll like it.”
Of course, you took his word for it.
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The tower sat at a painstakingly high height.
“Jungkook,” you deadpanned, “What are we doing here?”
He smiled widely. “Do you remember this place?”
The breeze blew through you and you could only hug yourself tighter with a meager nod. “You took me here for my birthday that one year?”
He nodded, hands in his pockets. “And I only had enough money to pay for the admission fee and nothing else. Not even enough to get a decent souvenir from the gift shop.”
“Hey, no,” you denied with a pout, clearly offended, “You got me a small magnet that’s still hanging on top of our fridge. It’s cute and I love it.”
His tongue ticked against the roof of his mouth and he reluctantly agreed. “Alright, fine. But—”
You gaped at the tower, mindlessly sputtering when you realize, “Is this where we’re having dinner?”
Finally, he confirmed with a solid nod and a sheepish smile. “We have a reservation.”
Blinking, you repeated, “Reservation? Why would we even need one—”
His arm suddenly swooped down and curled your body next to his as soon as you began walking up the intimidating structure. “Because I have the money to do so now, can’t you see? I can finally spoil the fuck out of my wife the way I’ve been wanting to this whole time.” Nicer—better—greater than usual
“Gguk—”
“I know that it might be a few years too late to make up for it, but I want you to realize how much I love you,” he said sincerely. “That I’m doing all of this for reason.”
You tugged his hand and called for him again.
Ignoring your pleas, he continued, “I’m shitty for not doing this sooner, and I know some nights get lonely without me, but I want to pay you back with everything I can possibly afford — I’m working hard. For you. For Yeona. Only for the both of you.”
Impulsively, your heel stomped against the pavement until his attention finally shifted towards you. The action immediately turned regrettable when the impact vibrated and bounced off of your ankle. You winced.
“Jungkook,” you pathetically mumbled, reaching out towards him.
Mid-talk, and it was your eyes that glossed over to throw him off, putting him on high alert. He had no choice but to stare down nervously at you with a bitten lip. 
You exhaled slowly and eventually circled your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You were still just outside of the front doors to climb in a beautifully long elevator ride, the gift shop beside the admission booths light blinking brightly to let visitors know it was wide open for them to waste money on overpriced, useless trinkets and tiny magnets.
Your fingers softly pulled at the hairs of his nape, urging him to give you a kiss right then and there. “I appreciate and love everything you’ve bought and done for me tonight.” Just for even allowing some time for the both of you that weekend — it was way more than enough. Your fingers softly ran over the edge of his jaw and went a bit further up to cup his cheek. His hands slid up to your wrist in return and squeezed, angling his head to put a few kisses on the center of your palm. “But you know I love you regardless, right? I don’t need you to pay back my love I’ll always have for you. Always, Gguk. We maintained a shitty apartment together for so many years, still got married when the circumstances weren’t always the nicest, and continue to raise a beautiful little girl together. Nothing changes when I’m with you.”
He eagerly bent down to encase your lips with his own. “I love you,” he said with utter sincerity, his silent ode to you he would carry along for the rest of his life hung somewhere within the tone of it. Always.
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capri-ramblings · 4 years
Note
Hiii~ I love your writing and simply adore the way you write Vil! I wanted to request scenarios of Yandere! Jade, Vil, Azul and Cater having their darling 'willingly' return to their side after being given an opportunity to depart (i.e. an open door, or someone coming to get them) or just going to their side if you've done the escape thing before. I apologize if that's vauge or has been done before. You're wonderful~
Firstly,I'm sorry this took very long despite it being one of my earliest asks, and secondly,since I've written a couple of Azul works, I hope you don't mind me omitting him from this one, it's just that with Jade's plot I felt like I would've written it a bit too similar if I included Azul. And thirdly, This is my first request with a Cater feature in it uwu ♥️ give him some love ya'll our magicam senpai. Hope you like it, Twisty! (*´ω`*) Vil is a Character I find kinda hard to write for but I'm happy you find him satisfying 🤧
Requests under works. Please refer to Pinned post before sending one in.
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[ W e l c o m e H o m e ]
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Vil Schoenheit
When you slammed the giant mahogany doors behind you, breathing ragged and worn, the sound of familiar footsteps descending the stairs made you lean your head against the door before turning around to see Vil.
His perfectly lined brows were arched, haughtily if not unbearably unimpressed. He was wearing his nightwear, the gentle colour of the satin material made him seemed as if he was glowing underneath the beam of the crystal chandeliers.
"Did you like the fresh air?" He asked, hands gracefully trailing over the marble railings of the stairs.
"Rook mentioned a crescent moon appearing tonight."
You let out a sigh, defeated and dry.
"If there was,I must've missed it. You know me,Vil. Always in a rush."
He didn't let it pass his lips but you knew he wanted to scoff, to mock your response and degrade you as he often did.
"I take it the open space wasn't to your liking?"
Vil stopped at the foot of the stairs and he had this knowing look in his eyes. It almost seemed smug.
"No,I mean—" Your voice trailed off,gaze lowering as you replayed the scene in your head.
You had found a chance to escape,to run from everything Vil had imprisoned you in, and for half a moment, you were free. Your legs carrying you through the open air as your feet finally came in contact with soil after so long of staying indoors. You caught the whiff of the rose garden behind the Manor and the gates of your nightmares were right in front of you.
All you had to do was push pass it, and freedom was yours.
But then you stopped. Your feet halted and the sudden silence overwhelming you at that moment brought a sense of dread to your system. How long has it been since you've last seen the world? It shouldn't sound so... soundless,right?
"Past the gates and you're free."
That's what you told yourself. What you attempted to tell yourself. But the crushing weight of returning to a society that didn't seem to even recognize your absence made your want to hurl yourself away from it all. At least Vil kept his eyes on you, and maybe a life where you were doted on was far better than a life where people simply forgot about you.
"Use your words, Daffodil." You looked up and Vil was already looming over you, his hand propping your chin up as his thumb trailed over your lips.
"Didn't I teach you how to talk?" He was cooing,coaxing you to place yourself in his arms, and it worked. You leaned into him willingly and gently began closing your lips over his thumb.
"I made a mistake. I want to come home,Vil." You sounded so genuine, so soft. It made him wanted to place you on his lap and have you ride the erection building up underneath his clothes until you couldn't form proper words anymore.
But he held himself back. Tonight was not the time. There would be other times for him to spill his seed inside of you, for now, he should indulge in your submissive acceptance.
"I'm always here for you, Daffodil."
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Jade Leech
Jade had kept you in his home under in Coral Sea for so long that when you finally pushed pass the ocean's surface, the thick air of the land almost choked you.
The fins on either side of your neck hissed at the contact and your eyes squinted from the intrusion of the the sunlight. You actually had to bring one webbed hand to shield yourself from it.
Everything felt so different. So foreign. Your scales bristled in annoyance. Was this the world you so craved before? The world you actually lived in before Jade turned you into his own kind?
Maybe you felt differently about it then, but now, all you wanted to do was dive back into the comfort of the sea. Where you truly belonged.
And back down you did go, and immediately after submerging into the water, your scales glistened and your fins flapped happily against your skin. The coolness of it all washing over you pleasantly.
When you reached the entrance of Coral Sea, Jade was there, dutifully waiting for your return. You wanted to rush over to him, aching for the familiar contact of another mer against yours,the human air felt so pungent after all. It really did feel like you were a fish out of water.
Ah,but the whole reason you went up to see was because you had an argument with the mer-male. Swimming over to him so eagerly would just be telling him that he was the sound one in it.
So,you kept your pace slow and deliberate, until Jade extended his hand and you took it in yours.
"Was the world big enough for you up there?" He asked, the slight hint of laughter lacing his words as his gaze fixated on you.
You pursed your lips and sighed, expression grim.
"Maybe a bit too big. There weren't any humans of any of their ships, but it smelled like there was just a crowd of them earlier..."
"Oh? But don't any of it feel familiar to you? You used to live up there too once, that's what you said, right?"
You knew he was going to bring up the argument sooner or later, but for Jade to bring up a subject this quick meant he really was annoyed by your outburst earlier. But could he blame you? He had a tendency to hover over you like a mother octopus with its brood and though he has given you many freedoms ever since he was convinced you weren't going to run away again, it still felt a little suffocating.
"I wouldn't have said it if you just let me be for once." You snapped, brows furrowing as your arms crossed over your chest. You swam further ahead of him too then turned back to face him. A small act of stubbornness.
"This is all I want" You pointed to the slight distance between you and him. "I'm not going run away again or throw corals at you. I just want to have my own space. Don't you trust me?"
Jade did. He did trust you now because you've finally shown him that your life above the sea was a mere past you couldn't even properly project into your own memory. He's waited so long for this too and when you were throwing your words at him earlier, he thought he'd have to keep you on a leash again, the notion of letting you swim above was hard for him to digest because if you hadn't fully converted into the form he's given you then Jade had made a mistake and he would've risked losing you.
But he didn't lose you. You came back to him. You asked him to trust you.
The smile curling on his lips then was one of deep endearment for you and when he swam to your side, you swore you could feel him glow.
"Of course,I trust you,my angel reef."
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Cater Diamond
He was soundly asleep, curled in his thick blanket when he felt his bed got weighed down as someone slipped in-between the blanket and him.
Cater half yawned, half uttered an incoherent "What?" before he recognized the oh so familiar curves of your body pressing against him and the scent of the new shampoo he'd just bought for you lingering in your hair.
You were clinging to him, head nuzzling into his chest and hands gripping the side of his arms as if your whole life depended on you.
He smiled in the dark then. He had left his front door unlocked purposely after all. Call it a trust fall test.
"Hey,this is my bed, y'know" He murmured, lightly inching away from your touch as he rubbed his eyes. You simply pulled him back towards you, your form curling into a slight ball as your legs came in-between his. It was such an intimate response. Did you know what you were doing?
"Hm, it's gonna cost ya a lot more rent sleeping here with me, y'know? Are you okay with me charging more?" He was leaning into you now,his warmth making your squirm underneath him. You understood what Cater meant when he used the word 'rent', but you didn't move away or started crying like you used to do before. No, you felt more accepting now, Cater could feel it in the way your body seemed to yearn for his.
He couldn't help himself from chuckling though. The sight of you all needy for him was immensely adorable, he was half tempted to snap a picture, but then it would've ruined the mood wouldn't it? It's fine, he could settle with imprinting this memory in his mind. This moment of victory of his.
"Suit yourself then. But I gotta ask why are you so cold, cupcake? Did you take a long walk outside by yourself without your coat again? It's near winter, y'know. You could've gotten sick."
Not as sick as he was but that wasn't the point. The point was that you did decided to take advantage of the front door being left unlocked, and you did try to run away, but only to realize how dark and eery the neighborhood seemed for someone who wasn't all that accustomed to it. How each passing sound lurking in the shadows of the alley made your skin crawl and your throat dry.
It was terrifying, you realized then standing in the darkened empty street. And when you heard the wind breeze through the chilled air, you subconsciously held out a hand, searching for the familiar grip of Cater.
It was weird. An unsettling feeling you were aware you shouldn't oblige to, and yet, you had never felt so happy to have been inside Cater's house. To be held by him. To hear his voice. It was like you were falling into a trance of madness.
Oh,but isn't that just love in its purest form?
"Hold me,Cater" You whined, burying your face into his chest, earning a small laugh from the male who wrapped his arms around you and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead.
"Sure thing, cupcake."
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Text
Mermay - Dilliam - Getting To Know You
William and Damien want to get to know each other, but these things take time. There are more important matters that need to be addressed first.
Read the first part here!
Word Count: 2,159
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Sure enough, early the next day William hobbled down the steps to the shore. He kept his balance with one hand, and gripped a flask with the other. Unlike the previous day, he wore more layers to keep warm. It made the chilly morning more bearable as the pair sat on the picnic bench. Even so, Damien's high energy and energetic gesturing as he told William the story of when he first met his extended merfamily was infectious. William kept the hot flask in both hands as he sat forward to take in everything and encourage Damien with more questions.
At one point, Damien seemed to snap out of the moment and throw William a concerned look.
"I'm sorry… this, this isn't too much, is it? I don't get to talk about my experiences too much -" He was cut off when he felt a warm hand on his.
"Keep talking. I want to hear everything." William's smile was so wide, it could be seen either side of his bushy moustache. He gave Damien's another reassuring squeeze before lifting his hand away; and Damien had to rapidly suppress the instinct to snatch the hand back. It was such a simple thing, yet Damien felt comfortable enough to keep going.
As it turned out, it was very easy to talk to William. He knew nothing about the world of the ocean, except a small selection of fish names… and even that wasn't right:
("Oh yeah! An orca! That's the one with a horn, right?"
"No. It's the large whale that is black with white markings."
"... Then what am I thinking of?"
"Either a unicornfish or a narwhal, I'd imagine.")
However, as William would later argue, it was because he was normally assigned to tasks on land and was better acquainted with recognising animals, something that Damien was not too confident on:
("But what about that big cat with the hair? You know, the one that has the hair all around its head like this!"
"... Damien, that's what I've been telling you about. Male lions have manes, see?"
"... I knew that.")
Back and forth the conversation went, and Damien could feel a pang of disappointment when Mark came down to accompany them when he returned from rehearsals. Then, to make matters worse, William got a call from Celine regarding something that needed to be reassembled ASAP, so he had to scramble back up.
"Hey… Damien?" Mark broke the silence that had descended on the rocky coast. "I know you were told William was staying for a day or two, but if he gets the all-clear to take off the boot at his appointment tomorrow he has offered to stay longer to help us with odd jobs around the house. Would you be okay with that?"
"Why are you asking me? I don't live here." Damien made quite a considerable effort to give a calm response, and he could only hope that Mark couldn't see through the flimsy act. "It doesn't really affect me what happens up there."
"Well… I wasn’t sure if you were going to continue on your travels soon. If you need to keep on track of your itinerary, don't let our possible change of plan mess with that." Mark's response had Damien cursing his sister. Did both Celine and her partner know about his plight? But Damien knew Mark. If that was the case, there would be obvious teasing. Maybe it was genuine concern on the actor's part. 
"It's alright. I'm not under any time restriction, remember?" One key difference between humans and merfolk was how humans were obsessed with time and schedules, whereas merfolk were more flexible and carefree. "I don't mind staying a little longer. It's nice to be with family again. I'd be a fool to hurry off too fast and miss out on this." Mark's face lit up as he turned to pick up a bag Damien hadn't noticed originally. It was passed to him without any hesitation.
"Speaking of being with family - here. I had this commissioned for you. Consider it a 'new home' gift from both myself and Celine." The merman gingerly opened the present, surprised when he pulled out a small stacked stone ornament on a waterproof pedestal, complete with aqua blue natural sea glass for decoration. "I know you enjoy travelling the seas. Just know that we want this to be your home as much as it is ours when you are in the area. I might only be your brother-in-law to be, but you are still family, and this can be your home if you want it to be. There’s nothing too hard for us to do to make this your home. Just say the word - I have a credit card." Mark reached forward to ruffle Damien's hair, earning himself a dramatically offended hiss in response.
When Mark left, Damien took the decoration in his hands. It was beautiful, and he was enamoured by it… But it made something in his stomach twist. A home… such a concept was different between a merfolk and a human. If they wanted this to be his 'home', were they going to make some sort of enclosure and expect him to ‘settle down’? Celine wouldn't, he knew she never would. Even so, there was the worry if she felt sorry that he would never have a 'home' in the way a human can.
He put the gift into the chest to keep it safe and slipped into the water. He needed time to think about this.
--
"You sure you want to help out? I was kidding about working you to the bone." Celine accompanied William back to the car after his appointment the next day. The crutch and boot were gleefully returned as he was given the all-clear. Now all that was needed was to simply not break it again any time soon.
"Of course! You expect Mark to move things around for you? Or are you planning on killing your fiancé by letting him try his hand at wiring a new light in one of the empty rooms?" He threw Celine an accusatory glare when she laughed at the suggestion. Thankfully, the conversation returned to the matter at hand as they spent the drive to the hardware store deciding what needed to be done in the seafront cottage. 
"Can I ask you a favour?" Celine had stopped in the middle of the 'outdoor' section during their shopping expedition. William screeched the shopping cart to a halt so he could reverse and see what caught her attention. "I want to make the rock pool a place Damien feels comfortable to call home. The positioning of the rocks means it's sheltered from the tides, but I don't know how safe it will be from winter storms. I don't suppose there's anything you can do about that?" William's eyes went from Celine to see what inspired her to request such a job. It was a rock waterfall, an ornament for a garden. The colour of the rocks matched the ones by the sea.
"I'm not sure, only because I've not seen much of it. It'd depend on if the 'pool' is shallow or not. I could try and add some extra support to those rocks that frame the water, maybe check what supports are normally put along beaches to protect coastal towns?" Celine nodded as William spoke, fetching several LED lamps and dropping them into the cart.
"We should ask Damien when we return. I didn't want to bring it up too soon after we moved in because I know he's not one for staying in one place for too long. I suppose it's the mer instincts at play." When she noticed William's confusion, Celine continued, "When we grow up, we normally want to settle down in a house of our own, right? Merfolk might have nesting grounds or communities of their own, but they tend to travel since they can cover large distances in a short amount of time. It's why Damien would often disappear for months at a time." She sighed as she shoved her hands into her pockets. "I wanted a house by the sea so Damien would have a place he could call home too and feel he can stay longer. I can't protect him if he's forever travelling."
"Protect him?"
"You've heard the stories, right? Where people have exotic 'pets' that are categorised as 'mythical'? Having a merman as beautiful as Damien is one thing, but one with fluency in English and an awareness of human behaviours would be a valuable asset to American collectors… Or worse." Even if her hands were hidden, William knew her fists were tightly clenched in anger at the thought of something bad happening. "I don't want anyone to hurt him. Even if he travels the seas and has plenty of connections, he's still my little brother."
"Hey," William braved putting a hand on Celine's shoulder, "It's okay. He'll be okay. We can go back and see how he feels about rubber duck decorations." He pulled back to lift the item in question. They were tiny LED lights on a string, but each light was encased in a small model that resembled a toy rubber duck. "If we got a few of these and draped them around the rocks, it'd really look like home. And look! They're half-price. It's meant to be, Celine." Though still worried for her brother, the distraction worked as Celine finally cracked a smile and lightly shoved William. "What? Oh! You're right. That's far too ambitious. Just the one will do." That was that as it was innocently dropped in, followed by an actual rubber duck toy.
"Trust me. I might not be an outside landscaper-person, but I know we'll be able to make the rock pool the most spiffing place this side of the seven seas!"
-
To William's credit, he had only gathered a handful of impulse purchases that he paid for himself, including a pair of small hanging mirror shaped like a crescent moon and a star as a belated housewarming present ("Mark is the star 'cause he an actor, and you're the moon 'cause of your magic stuff."). Everything else was relevant to the required home improvement jobs that William would be working on over the next few weeks. Once they had brought everything inside, it was then the turn of Mark to bring William out of the house and make the drive to William's family home. William could grab his tools and show his elderly parents that his leg had fully healed. His mother insisted they take a loaf of homemade bread and some cupcakes with them once she had smothered William in hugs and kisses and made him promise to come by while he was in the area.
Meanwhile, the twins sat on one of the large rocks, gazing out over the sea. Damien rested his head on Celine's shoulder as she told him about how her job was going and some of the ideas for the home renovation now that William was staying and ready to work. Damien held her phone, idly scrolling through the photos as she explained what was going on, until he realised the next few photos were of the area they were in.
"- some sort of way to make this place a little safer in the storms. Do you think you could have a think and see what can be done?"
"I'll think about it." Damien returned the phone to Celine as he sat up straight. "Whatever happens will happen, I suppose."
"But this is your home. Whatever happens here is your choice first and foremost."
"Yeah, sure."
"Damien. I'm serious." She reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, only for him to pull away. The fins on his collarbones flared briefly in agitation.
"This is your home, Celine. You don't need to pretend that I have a say in any of this, or that you'd even listen to what I'd want anyway. I don't need your pity because I can't go buy a house like you can."
"That's not what this about-"
"Isn't it? Don't think I never heard those conversations you had with Mom and Dad about wishing I could 'settle down'. I'd bet you even want to build me some sort of little enclosure to make up for that fact."
"Damien, stop that!" But it was too late. He had slipped into the water. Confused and frustrated, but wanting to avoid further argument, Celine stormed back up to the house.
Mark and William had decided to cut into the bread when the back door opened. Their argument on what would best accompany their snacks was abruptly cut off as Celine marched past them and down the corridor, before a door slammed shut. A silent nod was swapped between the men. Something happened between the twins. Food could wait. They needed to get to the bottom of this. ---
(I normally don’t stick these notes on the bottom, but I’m planning on spreading out this story over the month. It’s currently 20 pages on g.oogle docs total, so there definitely will be more. However, I will be putting the next part up tomorrow since 1. I’m not mean to leave it on a cliffhanger for several days and 2. It was waaay too long to put everything as one chapter)
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stayndays · 4 years
Text
𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏 : Leaving Isn’t an Option
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆! This chapter includes: 
(Pretty Heavy) Gore (ngl i went pretty hard with the descriptions)
Blood
Murder
A Knife
A Corpse
Foul Language
𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : “You came here to assist your boss at a party he’s invited to, not to solve a murder with a group of strangers you’ve just met. Yet here you are, staring at the dead mansion owner who hosted the party in the first place, surrounded by nine men with high statuses in society: and one of them is a murderer. The question is who? And can you solve the mystery without being killed yourself?”
Visit the masterlist first before proceeding. It has all the info you need to read this series.
You let out a pierced scream at the sight below your feet.
The mansion owner, and host of this glamorous party, is on the floor. Arms spread. Eyes closed.
A slit on his throat and his stomach oozing out blood.
His pale skinned body on the floor of the living room is a sight to behold.
The necktie that was once tightly wrapped around his neck now lingers along his chest, showing off the large cut across the entirety of his neck. Hair disheveled and clothes tossed around, you couldn’t bear to imagine what his last thoughts were as he was practically sliced and diced. You cringed as his stained shirt revealed the huge slices through his skin, trickling blood onto the floor by the second. Then you realize the knife, looking tremendously similar to your kitchen knife, that performed the action was still impaled into the body, making you squirm and gasp with a shiver.
There’s no way this was just an accident.
Your ears detect clacking against the sleek wooden planks, and the fabrics of ball gowns flowing across the floor. They, like you, also shriek in horror. A few men curse in surprise. A handful shout, frightened. Your vision grows cloudy and you almost feel like you’re about to faint, until a figure calmly approaches the party host.
One of the party guests, who happens to be one of the few you conversed with thoroughly at the party despite your status and goes by the name of Felix, slowly walks over to the body as if he has a limp. He kneels down on the opposite side of the wounded stomach, legs trembling slightly, and gently presses his thumb onto the vain of the body’s wrist.
Felix waits for a few seconds before turning towards the crowd. He scans the faces of the guests: some sobbing, some showing no remorse at all. Felix clears his throat before saying two words.
“No pulse.”
The mansion owner is dead.
The man to the right of you, who you remember goes by the name of Jeongin, starts quivering out of control, jaw shivering as if he were freezing. You turn towards him and share a sympathetic look, rubbing his back up and down with your hand. You notice the tears in his eyes before perking up at a sudden scream in the crowd.
You look behind you and see a woman in a rose gold attire, tears quickly running down her cheeks and ruining her glamorous makeup. 
“This- This isn’t good. This can’t- I can’t, no.. No!” Panic overtakes her voice, her jaw shaking in denial and utter fear. She scurries to bunch up her dress in her hands and bolts out the front door, as an older gentleman, undoubtedly her plus one to the lavish event, rushes to follow her.
Then you see more heads running past you, like a flock of sheep being chased by the shepherd’s loyal companion. The living room going from mumbled panic to incoherent shouting, echoing throughout the entirety of the mansion. Bodies slamming against your shoulders as you stare in disbelief at the evening light, leaving a path of orange and red colors down the floor. You recognize the hairdos of a group of actresses, who seemed to have sobered up from all the champagne and wine they drank this evening. The clean cut appearances of high class businessmen, with a fortune more than you could ever even possibly dream of, who you saw attempting to strike up a deal with the mansion owner. One of them, you realize, happens to be your boss, almost pathetically dashes through the front door. 
It’s mayhem in the mansion, as the celebrities you admire and the CEOs you fear suddenly become cowards when faced with the horror of death, going into flight mode instead of fight.
You decide to fly as well.
Your legs finally decide to function once again, after getting over their paralyzed state when your eyes drifted towards the corpse on the maroon carpet. You turn back for a split second, not to see the body but to gather information on who’s left in the mansion, and turn back around. Seven- or was it eight? Men, some looking like this isn’t the first dead body they’ve seen, and the rest are still either in a state of shock or grief.
You could see the light. The evening glow of the sunset, painting yellows and oranges and faint red and purple into the sky, as the wispy clouds gracefully float across. The door is about to close at any second, you notice that you’re the last one that will exit the building. Extending a hand out to ensure your escape, you were ready to finally breathe in some fresh air, and not one of overpriced perfume and cologne. 
That is, until a gentle, yet firm grip on your wrist stops you from progressing any further, preventing you from achieving freedom.
“Please don’t go.”
You whip your head around, startled at the sudden physical contact. You meet eyes with Bang Chan, who you conversed with once or twice before you discovered the body now etched permanently into your mind. “Please, you could help. Since you were the one who first saw the body, you could tell me what fully occurred. You don’t even have to stay the entire time! I’ll let you leave if you’d like.” 
His hushed, reassuring voice makes you feel like you’re being serenaded by a siren. You swear your eyes turn cloudy as you stare at him. Suddenly, leaving the mansion didn’t seem like your top priority at the moment. Suddenly, you could only faintly hear the front door closing behind you and Chan’s arm brushing against yours.
And then you realized. Oh, Chan is an attorney. Of course he wants you to stay.
“Just hear me out for a second,” Chan persuades you with a hint of desperation in his voice. You could only nod timidly, mouth slightly open, as he places his hand on your back and guides you back to the living room.
“What a bunch of cowards! Big names who can’t handle events like these, who don’t want to get involved for the sake of their status.” The voice comes from the man with a slick, black velvet coat around his shoulders, slumped forward on the leather chair, his feet pointing towards the corpse. His loud volume that pounds against your eardrums is enough to snap you out of your daze. You don’t recall speaking to the man at the party, but you remember your boss calling him Changbin.
Were you foolish for staying? Should you have gone with the others out the front door? But if you leave now, you would surely get a shout from that guy.
“I’d say we just leave the body and the mystery to the professionals themselves, actually,” A young man speaks up. You recall talking to him a couple of times during the event, introducing himself as Seungmin before you got pulled away once again by your demanding boss.
“Then why are you here?” Changbin fires back at the boy, who’s voice starts to stuttering at the sudden question.
“Uh- Listen- I’m-”
Chan is the one who speaks up, crossing his arms over his chest. “Although I’d love for you all to have a choice on whether you can stay or not, I unfortunately have to keep you all here-” 
Hyunjin, who you recall as the one with long, blond hair and a poor way of handling alcohol, suddenly jumps up from the leather couch he was slouching on. “Are you out of your mind?! I wasn’t able to leave in time because I was confused on what was happening, and now you want all of us to stay in this mansion with a dead body?”
Chan’s shoulders slouches at Hyunjin’s reasoning, taking in a deep breath before calmly explaining, “Look, I understand, you would like to get out of here as soon as possible. However, I interrogate criminal suspects at my day job,” Hyunjin visibly gulps when Chan mentions what he does for a living. “and I would appreciate if I could interview each and every one of you. Especially you, Y/N, since you were the first one who found the body.”
Suddenly, at the attention in the room shifts from Chan to you. Feeling intimidated by the sixteen pairs of eyes staring directly at you, you simply choose to just nod.
“You’re sure you’ll let us out though?” Somebody else blurts out in retaliation, and you turn your head to one of the talkative guests of the party, Han Jisung, with his swept back brown hair and suspenders under his coat. “You’re sure, positively sure, that when you closed that front door, you didn’t lock us in here?” Jisung points at the grand, gray door, with black stained glass in the center, raising an eyebrow at Chan. The door has a key lock, along with a handle. You could barely see what’s outside of the house through the glass.
Felix audibly sighs at Jisung’s what-if question, rising from his seat to check the front door. He extends his arm out to reach the door handle. “I’m sure Chan wouldn’t do such a thing-”
He turns the handle. It’s jammed.
The door doesn’t open.
“The fuck-” Felix continues attempting to open the front door. He shakes the doorknob vigorously before slowing down, attempting to open it one last time before letting his hand fall down back to his side.
Chan is stunned, walking over to where Felix is to check himself whether the door was truly unlocked or not. His try also has no success, deepening the furrow on his brows.
“So you did do something, Chan!” The man with the trench coat, Lee Minho, exclaims, both in fury and in astonishment. “Where’s that key to open the door, huh?”
By the time Minho is done with his shouting, the rest of you have gathered at the front of the door, almost surrounding Chan who’s trapped against the front door.
“Listen! I didn’t do anything. I didn’t realize that when the door would close, we’d lock ourselves in here. Does- Can anybody check if the key to the front door is still on the host’s body?” 
Minho lets out a groan of frustration, running his hands through his hair before while strolling on over to the body laying dead in the center of the living room. He kneels down onto the floor, carefully avoiding the bloody part of the carpet, and starts checking the corpse’s clothes.
“Although I operate on patients while they’re unconscious, “ Minho claims, digging through each individual pocket of the mansion owner’s coat. “This- God, why are there so many pockets- is a little bit stranger because he isn’t breathing. At all.” He searches around a little bit more, checking each and every nook and cranny he could find hidden, but has no luck in finding the key.
Shaking his head, he slowly stands back up, cleaning the palm of his hands on the front of his dress jeans and approaches the group once again. “Nothing, absolutely nothing,” Minho casually shrugs nonchalantly
“So we’re really stuck here? We can’t bust down the door or break open a window, nothing?” Jeongin speaks up for the first time since the majority of the party guests left the crime scene, seemingly dry from any remaining tears. “I get it if we don’t want to risk injuring ourselves to break down this door, but a window on the other hand-”
As if on cue, you flinch as the sound of glass shattering pierces your ears, and you see dirt, flower petals, and pieces of a vase fall onto the floor. The dirty, yet still in tact window in the room and Seungmin’s soil covered hand tells you that he tried throwing a flower vase to destroy the window. 
“Shit, okay, that didn’t work. That must be super durable glass, then,” Seungmin concludes, pointing at the undamaged window and throwing his hands up in the air in exaggeration. 
“That means this door must be sturdy as hell, too,” Felix curses at the realization. 
“I’ll just call the emergency hotline to pick us up and get us out of here, then,” Changbin starts walking back to the living room without any further comments. That is, before you stop him from progressing any further.
“Don’t even bother at this point. I tried using the telephone for my boss earlier at the party; it was just static on the other end,” you argue against Changbin’s suggestion. “It’s the 1900s, anyways. Do you really think the emergency responders will pick us up right away?”
Changbin scoffs at your reasoning, “Fine, I’ll give you the win for now, but now what?” 
“It’s no use guys. We’re stuck here,” Minho, who’s also related to the mansion owner, announces to the group, as if it weren’t already obvious enough.
Jeongin shivers at Minho’s words. “T-Then what do we do?”
“Then what..? THEN WHAT?! There’s a possible killer in this mansion, are you kidding me?” Han shouts aggressively at Jeongin, who flinches backwards as Chan holds Han back from gripping Jeongin’s collar.
“If they were smart enough, they would’ve left the place with the others, though!” You try to speak up, believing that the last thing the nine of you need is a conflict between each other.
“But what if they want to kill… more people?” Jeongin stutters quietly, but his words echo throughout the entire house, sending chills down everybody’s spine. Until Han had brought it up, you never thought about one of these men being a traitor in disguise, an impostor, a liar.
Minho finally speaks up, probably after turning the gears in his head for a minute or two. “Then if we don’t eliminate the killer in time, we’ll all get murdered in the end, and they’ll get away with it. Suspect interrogations take a long time to do, right? So Chan won’t have enough time to interview everybody before the murderer does something. If somebody from the party who escaped happens to call the police, they won’t arrive for hours because the mansion is so far away from the nearest station. That means…”
“We have to solve this murder ourselves,” Felix finishes his sentence with ease, coming out of the shadows.
“You’re crazy,” you can’t help opening your mouth and sputtering those words at Seungmin and Felix. You’re a secretary assistant for the chairman of an extremely successful business, not a professional detective. 
“What? Are you just gonna give up now, or actually try and help us? You’d be a real coward if you forfeit now,” Hyunjin notes harshly, almost offended by your comment.
He had a point though. If you die tonight, at least you’d die trying to do something good. You can’t leave this place anyways, even if you tried your hardest. So that leaves…
JOIN OR ESCAPE?
~
Oh, how wonderful! You made it through the first chapter. Scared yet? The fun’s just getting started. Unfortunately, my red text isn’t working. That’s makes me a little bit sad.
Fun Fact: This is the longest piece of work the author has ever written! 2.5k words, I’ll allow a small round of applause for her.
Chapter 2 is when the real fun can begin, though, as you’ll be approached with your first decision path! Are you ready, players? I hope you are.
Good luck. May the Killer King spare you today.
taglist: @desertofdessert @crscendoforsung @cotccotc @poeticallyspaghetti @skzctnightnight @dreamy-dreamies @nizhonimoon @hanniiesuckle17 @binniesbabybear @tsuki-moon @lbxgsunshine @csbverse @mangoisawesome @yunhoesss @wherevermyway @golden--rain @bubblyjisunq @kimpchi @loey-letters @pokyloky @worldtriiiip @avrea-tt
84 notes · View notes
prettyflyshyguy · 4 years
Text
Ok here’s Chapter 2!!! its unfinished but I have to go to bed but you can have it anyway!! Like last time if you have critique please hit me with it. I am not a writer. I am simply a fool with two wolves inside me, one craves comedic relief while the other is grabbing a knife from the kitchen. (Chapter 1 if you missed it)
Here’s an indication:
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The night air was still, in the distance the sound of helicopters and sirens blaring was the only thing to disturb this empty side of the city, evacuation of all citizens long passed. The orange haze of distant lights and fires lit up the otherwise cloudy dark sky. The crack of crystalline and resin structure splitting broke the silence atop the Research Centre. A cocoon spilled out of the split in the hardened shell, flowing and bulging and wriggling out as something churned and shifted beneath the surface. Rapidly the form of a figure started to appear, breaking free, reaching upwards towards the sky until it slipped and fell backwards. It flopped onto the concrete with the grace of a beached whale, and slid a few meters back.
His lungs kicked into overdrive, gulping deep breaths of air to combat the fear, disorientation and adrenaline that shot through his body. Everything was dark, his eyelids felt glued shut. He was hot, too hot, why was he so hot. 
Crudely wiping whatever was gunking up his eyes, he began to take stock of the situation. He quickly scanned the area, he was alone.
Except for the cocoon.
‘Shit-’
He instinctively tried calling out but a faint rasp was the most he could muster as he scrambled away still on the ground. He reached for his sidearm holster.
Except it wasn't there.
He felt cold concrete on his back, he pushed into it. It was the only thing he knew was real. It was tangible. He looked back towards the cocoon, a trail of viscous liquid stretched between it and himself. He sat there, frozen. Eyes fixed on the cocoon. Tracing its outline, the way it looked like a figure reaching forward. Forward towards something small that reflected the light, sitting just out of reach of the cocoon on the ground. The huge, gaping split down the back that the trail of fluid lead away from. 
Perhaps if he was able to sit completely still he wouldn't be able to feel any of it. The fluid dripping down his hair, into his eyes. The way his arms felt too long. The way his skin felt too tough. The way he felt wrong.
Except he hadn’t forgotten what happened. It was his cocoon. 
His heart rate shot up, he started breathing faster shorter breaths. 
Leon wasn't particularly afraid of much. He tackled any new situation he was thrust into pretty well, actually. Like his brief time as a cop back in Racoon City when the first outbreak of the T-virus happened. Evicting the ‘monster under the bed’ when he’d babysit Sherry when she was younger. Being injected with a parasite egg by a twisted cult in Europe. Accepting Claire’s challenge of who could eat the most hot cross buns last Easter.
The cocoon in front of him made him afraid.
He focused on his breathing, slowing them down, taking in more air in each breath. His pulse began to calm.
A minute or two had gone by before he realised it was getting cold. The exothermic reaction of the cocoon process had ended quite some time ago and he was no longer receiving the benefits. If you could even call them that.
He thought about it again.
‘Ah. That’s right. The cocoon process.’
His memories were intact up until a point, he remembered the flames and how he tried to scream. He remembered the sensation of his skin boiling. He remembered his joints seizing up and everything going dark. The only person he’s seen come out of a cocoon looking ‘normal’ was Ada, but she must be different. Some kind of twisted facsimile that Simmons cooked up. The Ada Wong that infected him was surely not the real deal, at least he hoped.
Ultimately there were only two choices in his current situation. Continue to stare in abject horror at the cocoon or instead, stare in abject horror at whatever it did to him.
Sharply inhaling, he slowly let his gaze fall from the cocoon to his feet. 
At least the assumption was that they were his feet. They looked more structurally like primates but with thick leathery scales or plating running along down from his legs. Not to mention the claws.
‘Ok. Could be worse.’
‘Time to try standing up.’ he thought.
He shuffled into a kneeling position and placed his hands out in front of him on a bare patch of concrete that wasn't covered in goop. Thankfully they still resembled human hands. Just with more scales and claws. 
‘Could be worse.’
Very slowly, with plenty of weight on his hands, he attempted to figure out how to stand up. He quickly realised his feet were more comfortable with weight being fully placed on the toes. Like a dinosaur. Maybe he could get a job as a monster in the next Jurassic Park film. In trying to find a silver lining the brief mental distraction meant he almost toppled over, as his legs were quite shaky. Using the wall behind him for stability, he found he was able to stand comfortably if he bent his knees slightly more than he was used to. 
Carefully, despite wobbling significantly, he made his way without the aid of a wall towards and around the cocoon, to where he had dropped his communicator after Ada… Fake-Ada, had infected him.
He knelt down and gently picked it up, praying that maybe somehow the flames hadn’t damaged it beyond working. The glass screen was cracked. It was unresponsive. 
‘Fuck.’
He had no way of contacting Helena. No way of telling her that actually he’s ok. He had left her to run after Ada and now she’s out there, alone, up against Simmons and his personal security army after everything-
‘FUCK.’
He was so stupid, he let his personal feelings get in the way when he should have just let Chris handle it-
He froze.
‘Chris was just outside the door when it happened. He probably saw the cocoon-’
His thoughts were interrupted as the glass of the communicator shattered as it hit the ground. His stomach convulsed as he began to throw up. He hadn’t eaten in hours but the acid burned away at his throat nonetheless. Tears started to well up in his eyes. The full gravity of the situation hit, everything he put his friends through, everything that’s happened to him. What would happen if he finds them again? Would they recognise him? Would they shoot him? Would he even find them? What if something else found him first?
Shoving all that aside, he pulled himself back into the moment. There was nothing he could do for either Chris or Helena if he just sat here, and the risk of a military cleanup unit passing overhead and seeing him was not one he was willing to bargain on. 
-
The balcony door, left open, creaked slightly as the ocean breeze drifted through the city. It would have been nice if not for the smoke and the eeriness of the place left cold and empty. It didn’t take Leon long to find an apartment that had an unlocked door or window, long forgotten about. The infection came with its advantages, namely making it much easier for him to traverse buildings vertically which meant he avoided streets with military patrols, Ja’vo or worse. Cautiously searching, in case he wasn't alone, he swept through each room quickly before entering the bathroom. The sludge that was left over from the cocoon had started to try like mud all over him, a shower might help relieve the stress. Closing the door and looking around, he caught a brief glimpse of his full figure in the bathroom mirror. He turned away sharply, not ready to tackle that just yet, instead focusing on the uncomfortable fact he could see very clearly despite not turning the light on yet. Once again trying to find something he could root himself too, he sunk his feet into the softness of the bathmat. The cold of the tiles. 
He leaned with both arms either side of the basin. 
‘Please don’t throw up again.’ he thought.
Without giving himself time to chicken out of it he flicked his head upwards and stared dead on into the mirror.
‘Could be worse.’
His face was still somewhat recognisable, it might have been even more if he didn’t have two mandibles protruding from both his top and bottom jaw each, beginning near his ears and wrapping comfortably around his face. He was able to see them in his peripheral vision so far but preferred to pretend they didn’t exist. Forced to reckon with it now, he toyed around to determine what level of control he had, if any. The top two folded up neatly alongside his cheeks and the clawed tip bent downwards towards his mouth, while the bottom ones extended along his jawline and pointed up at his chin. More concerningly in each corner of his lips there was a line, almost like a split that ran up his cheeks either side. Tentatively he flexed his jaw and opened his mouth slightly he snapped it shut upon seeing canines that were probably a little too long. Among other teeth that probably weren't there before. At least the BSAA had good dental.
Examining the rest, the same plate scales, more like chitin or carapace, ran up his arms, legs and back. Splits down the sides of his arms and legs had more normal softer skin along with his chest, although these including his face were still stricken with splits and scarring in the skin. Much like how Deborah, Helena’s sister, looked after she emerged from her cocoon. At this point he noticed something shifting behind him, twisting slightly revealing in the mirror a set of thin spines that ran down his back. They twitched and shifted higher the more he stared at them, the more his heart rate elevated.
Not bothering to turn on any lights still, he shoved himself into the shower and doused himself in water as once again, he felt his heart rate climb. 
Sinking down to the floor he leant on his knees and pushed his fingers into his hair as the water enveloped him. 
‘It could be worse. It could be worse. It could be worse. It could be worse?? I’m a BOW now I’m a fucking BOW I’m a bio organic weapon I’m a B O W  I’M-’
Pulling his hands down his hair and over his face, he took a deep breath to try and calm himself.
‘Ok this is bad, but you’ve been through worse Leon.’ he considered.
He stared blankly for a moment.
‘Ok maybe you haven't been through worse but at least this time you’re in control of yourself. No mind control parasite cults involved. Look on the bright side.’
He looked down at his feet and the water swirling endlessly into the drain.
‘You’ve traumitised Helena right after the same thing happened to her sister, you have no way of contacting anyone for help, and even if you did, you have no guarantee they won’t just try and kill you.’
He slowly looked up. His entire face, mandibles included, drooped as the water cascaded down.
Pressing his hands into his face and leaning back he let out a deep, long groan while he internally wished he could just scream. God knows if he did, if it would even sound human still. 
Debora’s wails and cries still echoed in his mind. Recognisably human in origin but alien and twisted. Would he sound like that too? Like a monster?
(Hi hello its Editing Shy here, sorry this is all I got. I haven't finished it yet, this is the unfinished bit.)
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