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bitchyglitterfox · 1 year

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Werewolves and Moon Knights and Magic! Oh My! - Moon Knight System x F!Reader x Jack Russell

Warning: non con chocking, facial, cream pie, SMUT!, Magic, small fight scene, Khonshu stiring the pot, face fucking, oral (F&M), unprotected sex

A/n: this one was supposed to be like maybe 1.5k but it just kept flowing out of me haha! idk I might make another part? Like if yall want?

...

“You will release us of the spell you put on us you crazy perra,” Jake says as he holds you by the throat, your back pushing against the bookshelf behind you. The hand that wasn't holding your neck has a knife against your jugular.There's a smile adorning your face, you know he won't hurt you, especially if they want your help.

You could use your magic to have him release you but where's the fun in that. Especially when your husband was silently entering the room. Your eyes flickered over to his, his mouth snarling as he watched the intruder hold you hostage.

You croak out his name, "Jack" it's barely a whisper as Jake's hold is firm on your neck. Jack is there in a flash, he has the man by the throat and is growling in his face.

"Don't you ever touch mi esposa you coño,"

"Don't test me, your dumb perra of a wife put a spell on us,"

'Jake watch it, we don't have our powers and this guy is something else, he has claws mate' Steven says in the head space.

'Steven's right, we don't know what he's capable of especially if he's married to that witch' Marc agrees. He knows they have to go at this in a smart way. They can't go in guns blazing especially since they can't summon their suit.

You watch your husband hold them hostage, the astounding Moon Knight brought down by a simple spell. One you didn't have a hand in of course, but one you recognized. You rub your neck where the man's hands had previously been.

"As much as I would like for my husband to rip your throat out," you begin using your magic to rip them away from each other. You were holding them the way a mother cat would hold her babies, by the scruff of their shirts.

"What exactly happened? Speak and if I think you are bullshiting me I'll let Jack rip your throat out. I'll kill you since you don't have your Moon Knight suit."

You both watch as his eyes roll back and his face shifts into a scowl. It made him look like an angry eagle.

"Well, it began a week ago." He begins, his accent having lost its Spanish undertones instead adopting one of someone from Chicago.

They were on their usual night patrol, currently Marc had control of body as they scored the night. They were almost done and they could go back to the flat and sleep a few hours before Steven had to go to work the following morning at the children's museum of history.

There was a scream, and it put Marc on high alert. He glided through the air, landing in a dark alleyway. There was no sign of the person who had screamed. Instead, there stood in front of them a hooded figure.

"Que pierdas tus poderes" the stranger said in Spanish, a black glow erupted from their hands.

"Ugh fuck," Marc can feel his body getting weaker, the powers of Khonshu leaving his body. The suit disappears and darkness welcomes him.

When he comes too, he can't summon his suit, and neither can Steven or Jake.

"This is bad Marc, really bad, we can't even contact Khonshu!" Steven paces around their flat. He took over the body as soon as they realized they couldn't summon their suits. He got them home as soon as he could so he could look through his books.

They had also called Layla since she was still Taweret's Avatar. She said they've never faced a foe that could cut the connection between Avatar and their God. But Khonshu had found a witch whom he suspected was the one who had done this. She was in Salvage, Alabama.

The boys booked the next flight out of London. And that's what had led to where they were now. It had taken two weeks of recon, and they watched as you left your little cabin to go out and forge herbs, plants, and fungi. They noticed that you also drove to town for things you couldn't get out in the wilderness. What they hadn't realized was the werewolf that had kept an eye on them along with the man thing. Watching. Waiting. For them to mess up and reveal why they were watching his wife. Jack was suspicious, and rightfully so. This leads us to the exact moment when they burst into your home and held you against the bookshelf.

"Alright, I believe you. I could tell the moment you barged in, you had been whammied, the witch who did it has been after me for a while. She must have used you to kill me, " you say, letting them go, "I can remove the spell from you. Only if you apologize for trying to kill me instead of just asking you dipshits,"

You watch as his facial expression changes one more time. This time he's timid and a bit shy.

"We're really sorry love," Steven has taken over the body as he is the one to sound actually sincere unlike the other two men, "I completely agree that immediately barging in, and basically strangling someone is a bloody wanker move,” he says speaking to Jake and Marc as well as you.

Jack is now behind you, his hands have found their home on your waist as he keeps the death glare trained on them. It was rather in their favor that it was neither the week of the full moon or anywhere close to it.

You hum out in response to their apology, “Apology accepted, now whom might you be? You aren't American, I can tell that much by your British accent.”

He blushes, you were gorgeous now that they have gotten a proper look at you. He swallows thickly only now noticing how the lilac sundress hugs your body, how it pushes your breasts together and rather tastefully, he can feel his cock come to life as he watches you. If they weren't here to get the spell off them and you weren't married they would, rather he would stumble and Marc or Jake would pick up where he left off and ask you on a date and probably shag you after.

“I-my name is Steven Grant, the mad man who held you by your throat is Jake Lockley and the host of the body is Marc Spector, you met him when he told you about the incident.” He gives you his world famous lopsided smile.

“Hmm,” you let his name roll off your tongue, he was attractive. They all were, you were ashamed to admit it but when they held you by the neck a hot wave of arousal went straight to your core, “Alright, i'll take the spell off you now,” you smile sweetly.

You walk out of Jack’s hands and gently place your own on Steven’s warm cheeks. You gently place your lips on his, you feel him tense but shortly relax into the kiss and place his own hands on your hips, deepening the kiss.

When you pull away, you smile and gently rub a thumb over his cheek. “There you are my love, you should be able to call upon your suit once more. I also added another spell, one of protection so that neither of you will ever be affected by another spell user again. Now go on and summon your suits, I’m sure your God has missed you,”

‘There you are worm! I see you've finally gotten your powers back,’ Khonshu says as he sits in the corner of your cabin. You give him a glare.

“You stupid bird, how dare you tell them it was me who whammied them. My husband almost killed them.” you cross your arms over your chest as you look at the God, stunning the 3 men into silence as Jack goes to sit in a corner to read a book.

“You-you can see him?” Steven asks as he summons his Mr. Knight suit. Damn does he look mighty fine in it.

“Yeah, all magic users can see them. Now why don't you leave us alone, big bird, so that I can speak privately with your Avatar.”

“Stupid little worm, you don't command me!” He stands up and slams down his staff.

With a snap of your fingers he disappears much to the MoonKnights surprise, “Now that we're alone again,” you begin as you go and plot yourself in Jack’s lap, he begins to absentmindedly rubbing circles into the flesh of your exposed thighs, “I think, no, I know what you are thinking. I feel the same way and I am more than positive that Jack would be more than happy to join in the fun,”

The men stare at you in awe and confusion. What were you talking about?

‘I told you, you made it way too obvious that you were checking her out,” Jake says.

‘But can he help it? I mean look at her, shes practicaly giving us the green light to fuck her,’ marc makes an appearance.

“Jack, are you ok with sharing me with our guests,” you ask your husband behind you, although you never take your eyes off Steven as he stands in front of you.

“You know I give you whatever you want,” he says leaning into your neck kissing the dip between your shoulder and neck sensually.

You smile as your fingers begin to untie the straps of your dress, bringing the bust down to release your breasts.

“I want you and my husband my husband to fuck me,” you say as you bite your bottom lip and push your breasts together.

***

“Oh, fuck. God Steven your tongue. Yes baby just like that,” you moan as you reach back behind you to kiss your husbands lips as Steven eats your cunt as though you are the only oasis in the desert and he is dying of thirst.

You moan into Jack's mouth as he ruts his cock in between your ass cheeks as Steven continues his assault on your cunt. The both of them bring you to the top of your third orgasm of the night. You havent even been fucked the way you want and youve already come thrice.

“See, I don't you her pussy was a sweet nectar and that you would be addicted,” Jack says as he pulls his mouth from yours. This causes a groan from the man with his face buried into you. They've each given you an orgasm with their tongues but Steven wants to be the one to give you your fourth one before they even think about coming themselves.

“Oh fuck fuck fuck” your body begins to lift off the bed but you are pulled back down by stevens strong hold, “Jack i need you inside of me, i need you both inside of me. I want you to both fuck me til im dumb.”

“Yeah bebita? You think you can take both of us?” he says as he rubs his fingers down your cheeks.

You try to speak but nothing comes out of your mouth as the coil in your belly snaps and you feel yourself gushing on their face. Your legs actually begin to shake with pleasure as you pull them up by their hair and kiss Steven’s lips, you can taste yourself on him.

You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself before you get into position on the bed. Jack has since come back from behind you to position himself in front of you. He takes his cock in his fist and begins rubbing his head through your folds, slicking his cock with a mixture of your essence and Stevens spit. Without either of you noticing a switch has occurred. Marc had taken the body.

“8in of dick ain't enough for you sweetheart? Need my cock to fill you up too,” Marc says from behind your head. You lean up to look at him moaning out as Jack slides into your already wrecked cunt.

You squeeze one of your breasts as you shake your head yes.

“I need a verbal answer sweetheart or else you aren't getting your mouth stuffed.” Marc’s domineering voice turns you on to no end. As it's usually you taking charge in the bedroom.

“Yes daddy, I want you to stuff me full,” you say as you lean your head back and open your mouth for him to use.

He slides his cock into your mouth, your moans vibrate against his cock as his head presses the back of your throat. Jack’s slow and steady thrusts push you further onto Marc’s cock. You use one hand to fondle your breasts, tweaking your nipples between your thumb and finger as your free hand goes to fondle Marc’s balls.

“Fuck bebita, your squeezing my cocks so tight,” Jack moans as he begins to pick up the pace. His grip on your thighs tightens.

“Your wife sucks my cock so well Jack you are a lucky man, I-I dont think I’m gonna last long with her perfect lips on my cock. Shes sucking my soul out through my cock,”

You can feel the coil building up. Getting your face and cunt fucked is bringing you to your peak and you never want to stop this feeling. You begin to wonder if Jack will let you keep them as your lover. Having them both fuck you whenever you want. You bring a hand from your breast down to your swollen and slick clit. You move in tight fast circles, moaning as the coil is almost at its peak.

Both men are near their own orgasms, however not selfish lovers they want you to finish before them. One more sweep of your clit and one final thrust you are coming undone, your vision going white as your scream is muffled by Marc. Jack comes next, filling you to the brim with his hot essence. Marc pulls out and finishes himdelf over your fucked out face, his seed coats your face beautifully. He stares at you covered in him and he thinks you are the most beautiful looking like this.

Jack pulls out gently, he leaves a kiss on your lips before grading to get a washcloth to clean you off. Marc leans down and kisses you, licking a bit of his own come from your cheek.

“That was something,” he says smirking as he catches his breath.

“I agree, definitely something that shouldn't end here,” you smile back at him as you both wait for your husband.

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cherries-in-wine · 1 month

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My thoughts on 'the cursed heart' book 1

hii I just remembered this book exists and I'd like to share some opinions. Just a warning this post contains spoilers and my writing is messy af as this is more of a rant so i apologise in advance lol. I haven't read the second book yet just fyi.

Seeing the shit everyone said about this book I was honestly expecting another smutty trash like the nanny affair but they don't even kiss until chapter 9. I think the slowburn and the sexual tension was done decently well. I thought this was a sex slave kind of situation the way everyone was talking about it but its more of a "I saved your life so you'll work for me to repay your debts" situation. doesn't really make it any better but I guess its not as bad as sex slave. The whole BDSM shit was...questionable. I don't know what's so hard to understand about the fact that BDSM IS CONSENSUAL. IF YOU GUYS DON'T TALK ABOUT IT AND ESTABLISH BOUNDARIES BEFOREHAND ITS NOT BDSM ITS ABUSE. Just fyi these options are avoidable but I just think its inappropriate to call this BDSM.

The art is GORGEOUS and I love the little story book sequences you have for the character's background information. I ADORE the side characters like longclaw and sir monty have my heart. The idea for the book was definitely interesting. I liked the sun and moon court concept and the fae. It had potential but just like all the books choices has been putting out it just sort of fell flat. I really like the names too. I know they might be little too JK-Rowling-Cho-chang-ass-names but idk I find it cute how the sun court members are radiance, lustre,blaze,gleam etc. the book has a really nice aesthetic and fae are beautiful. The outfits are stunning as well. LEAF IS THE BEST PART OF THIS BOOK.

Kieran is honestly pretty mid. I don't find them that interesting I think they're just bland. I guess that could've been on purpose because they don't have a heart and stuff but I believe they could've done so much better.

I don't like how the fae are mostly left unnamed. That just made the sun court's betrayal fall flat because I don't even know these bitches so why would it hurt that they betrayed me? like first of all that shit was so predictable and second of all when you write a betrayal you'd want it to come from a character the reader really likes and is attached to so when they betray us it will hurt and just make you feel things but because we knew very little about about them I was just like "woahhhh womp womp I'm so hurt totallyyyyy didn't see this coming you got me dude" *pretends to be shocked*.

I think the it would've been much better if they pulled a prince Aerin from BOLAS kinda route with Radiance like maybe he and the other fae sneak in at night to visit mc, they grow close and he's treated as a love interest THEN he betrays mc. That would've made much more of an impact and then it would've made sense as to why mc was so trusting when they handed him their protection charm thingy to him. Honestly I find radiance much more interesting than Kieran.

Mc is.....a dumbass to put it lightly. I'm sorry but they're so stupid and they don't even have any growth by the end. I hate the "this character's only trait is being kind so they're dumb" trope. like first of all being kind isn't a fucking personality and idk crazy thought but maybe just maybe you can be kind and rational?? like why is every kind mc so dumb and lacks critical thinking skills. yea so didn't love mc either they were just bland.

My thoughts are kind of all over the place right now (they always are) so maybe ill add more stuff later but that's all for now. Thank you so much for reading my rant <33

#the cursed heart #the cursed heart book 1 #the cursed heart book 2 #the cursed heart choices #choices stories you play #TCH #TCH 1 #TCH 2 #pixelberry #pixelberry choices #choices stories we play #choices

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acaciapines · 3 months

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#420 BLAZE IT

oh of COURSE

Hard of Hearing – Radical Face (Redux)

sraf doesn’t have nightmares, ‘cause nightmare is a stupid dumb witch-word and he’s not a witch and also it makes people look at him sad sad sad and he HATES that, and so nightmares ARE NOT IT. OKAY. NOT NIGHTMARES KING.

but sometimes still he.

sleeping is new too. even as the days become weeks months one-day-years and all the time kinda seems the same but it goes goes goes, as it goes on sleeping is a thing he can do. he makes himself a nest like grr-click-growl’s, balancing himself on her back to get all the twigs and leaves and also blankets ‘cause the owl lady please-call-me-eda said he also needed those too. so sleeping and nest are good things ‘n they like the owl words for them best-of-all, ‘cause the rolling grumbling growly mine mine mine is something held close to their chest.

but despite that sometimes the sleeping is.

it’s like he’s back-there again. tablet sometimes. the tablet never really goes away but that’s been so always, ‘n so what really gets to him, the kinda stuff that means all the sounds he can make are bad bad bad and hiding small-scared how he never wants to be, is when he’s back in the trap and looking at king and feeling the stinging burn of claws across their cheek.

like he’s back-then and he knows what happens, knows how titan’s blood sizzled crackle-pop and the trap was shattered, and king growled in a way that meant both anger anger but also you-here-good, and they didn’t know what to do, and so much happened, but it’s the stuff that leads to him here and he likes here. and he knows now he’s safe even if safe is sometimes something he has to bite onto ‘cause elsewise he loses it.

but in the bad-seeing-story there is no blood and there is just the trap, like the tablet. there are all the witches who were there around him and their magic that cut sharp, ‘n him staring down there and the way the barrier shimmered between them and king, and he couldn’t breathe.

those are the things that send him bolting up so fast he smashes his head on the ceiling and there trembling in the air has to remember here here here and that here is a place he doesn’t want to blast apart. that here is good safe mine and nobody hurts him anymore.

he never tells king about them ‘cause he doesn’t know how to say sometimes i see you and think you’re gonna put me back there again.

he never tells king ‘cause sometimes when it’s real dark and empty he thinks at least back then it was easy to know how you felt about me.

Commentary

okay so i was going to do haha silly joke but then i saw what song is actually 420 and went FUCK and so instead its very sincere explorations of sraf instead lol.

first off! i've clarified in the other posts but sraf is indeed the collector--sraf is the translated version of what firefly (the owl beast, here sraf calls her 'grr-click-growl' which are the sounds for her name) calls him and that he eventually adopts bc he's never been particularly attached to 'the collector' as a name.

and now what even to SAY like.

sraf is. Dealing With A Lot Post-Canon Yes Yes? he and king have a REALLY messy relationship, and here sraf is thinking of and referring to a specific event that happens between them in for the future--it's a big scene so i won't elaborate on it due to spoilers, but there are pieces here and there to put together at least a sketch of it.

but that event is this moment of like--it is SO CLEAR to sraf that king is only using him. and like, obviously this isnt true and its so much more complicated than that, but at the moment its like a repeat of all the other times people have betrayed sraf in the past, that the black-white of it all becomes very sharp.

and now post-canon they share a mom and a house but they arent really friends and neither of them are really able to deal with that. its messy!

also if you cannot tell sraf thinks a lot in owl-terms--he's very very close to firefly and IS indeed otherkin, being an owl beast, though he does not have those words lol since he really just talks to firefly about this and she is very helpful, but also a big owl. his identity has always been pretty messy but here its easy for him to work at being a good owl, because its a goal that isnt tied up in all his past which he is for sure nowhere near dealing with.

basically: sraf my beloved they are the best owl house character and i love them so so much <3

#and a grove of palistrom to you #toh #the collector #i write #so much of this au is me like 'how can i give the collector so much more screentime'#which is for Me but i dont care. my story my rules #its being sad about sraf hours!!! fuck it!!!!#collector my beloved

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airyairyaucontraire · 1 year

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Watching The Mandalorian S3EIforget, "The Pirate"

Okay, 44 minutes of a show that's rapidly losing my allegiance, not for being offensive or brutal, just for being kind of dumb and palpably losing interest in its title character. Let's go then.

If this show was going to go with pirates while also being addicted to re-introducing characters from the CG TV shows, I really feel they could've graced our screens with Hondo Ohnaka. But I fundamentally don't want them to keep bringing in characters from the CG shows. The only exception I would make is Rex, because Temuera Morrison, but I would rather still have more Boba, because also Temuera Morrison.

They haven't even tried to re-member the dismembered IG-11 statue.

shiny ass-kissing droid

and now there are pirates

and I just feel like a man in Greef's position -

actually speaking of Greef's position, I love how before skyping the mossy pirate captain, he squares up and puts his hands on his hips like Henry VIII posing for Holbein

- okay, a man in Greef's position, formerly deeply involved with the bounty hunters' guild, ought to have a staff of mercenaries on site in readiness for shit like this. Instead he's as unprepared for the possibility of bad guys with a big ship showing up wanting to take his stuff as Boba was on Tatooine. Presenting these middle-aged guys who have been involved in the underbelly of the galaxy for their whole adult lives as so naïve about the security challenges of running one's own fiefdom during a somewhat lawless period of regime change is such a bizarre choice. Why is everyone in this show so dumb about stuff they should be totally used to? They're not Luke Skywalker coming from the middle of nowhere with starry eyes and feathered hair. Like they should be smarter than me at this type of thing, and I'm a typist from Auckland.

there's a PIRATE NATION taking over the Mid Rim? THAT I ACTUALLY AM SEMI-INTERESTED IN so I bet they won't show it.

Retreat to the lava flats - a large, open area without shelter or cover. Super.

exsqueeze me, Disney+ subtitler, but PSYCHEDELIC ROCK MUSIC PLAYING?

well, the krill farmers are still pumping out the blue juice, I see. And here's a nice Korean Canadian dad - you know what? I feel like Captain Teva is here to provide the Papa Smurf beard that Rex is not onscreen to give us.

Okay, so just as apparently Ragnar just hung out in a dinosaur's crop totally uninjured for 12 hours minimum while a search party stopped to rest overnight on their way to him, Mr Kim has time to travel to Coruscant and try to get a meeting with his superiors while Nevarro is under active pirate attack. He doesn't say "screw it, time is of the essence, I'll render aid and take the consequences." This show's idea of time in rescue situations is bizarre.

Who else feels like this fucking boring New Republic plotline was supposed to be part of the Rangers show that presumably Cara Dune would have headed up if the actress hadn't insisted on being a douchebag on Twitter? And now they're just trying to fold it into The Mandalorian. I resent it.

You know, when I heard the name Tuttle I had a brief feverish flowering of hope that a M*A*S*H tribute about the insanity of military bureaucracy might be in the works, but then it withered.

I know this guy from somewhere, somewhere relatively recent, but I am unable to place him. I am not interested enough to look him up.

I'm so irritated by the lazy cynicism of "If the Rebellion got into power they'd be useless." They're not the Democrats.

so now everyone's just wandering around in the blazing sunlight on hot black lava flats. Sorry Greef, your planet sucks.

And now... is this Jurassic Planet? yep, so I hope he doesn't get eaten by a serpent while he's here. Dude. Sir. You're standing so close to the bay that the mosasaurs like to pop out of. You've got your back to it. Please.

please help me

why does Paz address Teva as "Blue Boy"? He is dressed from neck to ankle in the most garish orange. Paz's own armour is predominantly blue. Is he fucking colour-blind?

Why does the Disney+ subtitler still head up Din's dialogue as "THE MANDALORIAN" when we've known for actual years that his name is Din Djarin?

they pride themselves on their secrecy... and their idiocy.

You know, this would never have happened if you'd stuck with your plan of repairing IG-11. He was no snitch.

Din calls him "Blue" too! HE IS DRESSED IN ORANGE

I CANNOT RECALL THE COLOUR BLUE EVER BEING SIGNIFICANTLY ASSOCIATED WITH THE REBELLION OR NEW REPUBLIC

HE HAS SOME BLUE STENCILS ON HIS HELMET BUT HE DELIBERATELY TOOK THAT OFF AND LEFT IT IN HIS SHIP WHEN HE GOT OUT TO PARLEY SO DIN AND PAZ CAN'T SEE IT

anyway BK's doing her swaggery walk again and while we're at it WHO ELSE PROMINENTLY WEARS BLUE?

and now we're going to have a long, leisurely meeting to discuss because what is time? what is urgency?

"and our children can feel what it is to play in the sunlight" - which we already let them do because we take absolutely no safety precautions about living right next to a bay where dinosaurs regularly pop out of the water or swoop from the sky to devour our young

"Does anyone else wish to speak?" No, because we are all just elaborately dressed extras. We know our place.

I'm... skipping stuff.

So the pirates are boozing it up in the school, like they wanted to. I'm happy that someone got what they wanted.

I like that one warthog pirate!

Did a Salacious B. Crumb monkey just tip off the Mandos?

I know they want me to be excited for the big battle, I know they do... I'm just too grumpy. I have a glass of wine, though, so that's good. Recognisable salmon pink in colour, The Ned Pinot Gris 2022 showcases classic aromas of quince, pear drop and vibrant stonefruit. The palate is lush with juicy nectarine and Braeburn flavours supported by an underlying hint of spice that leads to an unctuous ripe finish. A versatile wine when it comes to food matching with its notable fruitiness and gentle acidity. Try pairing this silky wine with succulent chicken thighs added to a creamy, lemon fettuccine pasta sauce.

you know, I don't usually tolerate words like unctuous and succulent being thrust at me by a mere product description, but I'll allow it

So... there wasn't much point to the mossy pirate at all, was there? Unless he bailed out with a parachute, he blowed up.

yes, the Anzellans are very cute. Always a pleasure to see them.

You know why I have a problem with this effort to do a whole thing about Bo-Katan and reuniting Mandalore and everything? It's the problem of trying to link up with the sequels, which were made before The Mandalorian was a consideration and gave absolutely no hint that the Mandalorians were a consideration either. Did they just "retake Mandalore" and then become totally isolationist, neither fighting the First Order nor supporting the Resistance? Did they get wiped out for keeps? Where were they when shit went down? You don't have to engage with that if you're prepared to just tell a small story of one dude and his kid, and a personal saga of family and faith, friendship and love, but once you commit to doing a big political historical story, you've gotta and it seems doomed to be unsatisfactory.

anyway if people are just whipping their helmets off now I reckon Din should pop back to Tatooine and show Cobb his smile

#The Mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian s3 #spoilers #mando critical

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h4kufilmz · 2 years

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✦ Monster you created - ( PARK JONGSEONG )

# PAIRING: HERO!JAY x VILLAIN!MALE READER

# GENRE: angst (ALOT OF ANGST), hero x villain.

# WARNING: alot of cursing, violence (just a little), mentions of bullying, and mentions death.

we are all merely villains in other people's stories, that's the truth. this world is nothing of perfection, so are its inhabitants. you will always be the bad guy in someone else's eyes.

the shadow that looms behind you is always there, a witness to your imperfections. your shadow is the side of you that you deny, hide, and keep away. it is our true nature as humans.

it's the darkness that we so badly try to shine a light on but no matter how bright the light will shine.. a shadow will always loom behind it.

jays heavy breaths fanned M/N's face, with a blank stare his eyes met jays. his eyes still held the blaze he always saw in them, the blaze M/N so desperately needed in his time of need.

yet jay disappeared when he needed him, alas he was consumed by the darkness. he willingly embraced the shadows.

"why?" jay suddenly asked, sending a glare towards M/N who only blankly stared at him, an uninterested gaze was sent his way. M/N seemed bored. "what do you mean why?" his tone was also the same.

his boredom only made jays fire only groww stronger, his hold on him grew tighter as he pushed him harshly onto the wall.

"you know my fucking question M/N don't act dumb" he gritted his teeth, glaring down at the boy. M/N tilted his head and a snicker resounded from his lips. "then you know the fucking answer to that question of yours jay, stop being dumb." he retorts their faces drew closer to each other, jays frustration only grew seeing the smirk that tugged on M/N's lips.

they stayed like that for a moment, their eyes didn't one another they seemingly challenged each other seeing who would break first. a fight for dominance.

jay was the first to break eye contact. he turned his head to the side, he couldn't take the intense tension he felt at the moment. he was then pulled back black strings that emerged from his shadow wrapped around his wrists and ankles pulling him back.

M/N dusted himself off and blankly stared at jay, "i never really thought i'd become like this too." he starts, jay stops fighting back from his restraints and focuses on the boy who took a few steps towards him, "but this is what the world shaped me to become, this is what they shaped me to become." his voice deepened, in the middle of the sentence a growl resounded from his lips as he grips jay's shoulder.

"despite training to become heroes they were the villains that haunted every fucking inch of my fucking fragile being, jay." he harshly pulled jay closer to him, his voice raises the slightest bit, looking into jay's guilt-ridden eyes.

"and no one was there to save me.. except for you." he looked at jay, his eyes were wide and his head hung low. he probably felt ashamed of himself at the moment, as he should be.

"but that's what i thought at that time." he hooked a finger under jay's chin, making him look up at M/N who now adorned a smile on his lips, a smile laced with anger, it was ominous. "but you never came, no matter how much i called for you, no matter how loud i screamed your name you were never there jay."

"never."

"you were consumed by your dreams to become a hero and subconsciously pushed me away." a single tear slipped from jays eye, his guilt ate him from the inside, he felt sick and at the moment he wanted to throw up. "i-im sorry—" he stuttered and was harshly pulled forward by the collar, "don't speak, i'm not finished." M/N commanded in a hushed, whispery, tone in jay's ear.

"but that's not what completely broke me though, everyone that shone a light in my shadow, in the darkness i was encapsulated in all left me too. including you, park jongseong."

"my aunt and uncle died, because a hero disregarded the people around them and wanted to display their power while fighting a villain." he laughed, "how ironic isn't it? that a fucking HERO took the i considered as my parents more than MY OWN fucking parents." he screamed into the night, his crazed eyes into jay's as he gripped his shoulders. "and not long after my grandma and grandpa died due to their old age." his voice now then shook, recalling these moments still shatter his very being til now, it was a reminder even though he turned to the darkness he isn't the least invincible. he was still the fragile boy deep down.

"so tell me jay, why do you think i became like this huh? FUCKING ANSWER ME JAY WHY THE FUCK DID YOU LEAVE ME LIKE THIS?!" he screamed into his his face, the restraints that held jay are now gone yet jay didn't fight back. he didn't have a reason to, he took part in molding and shaping to what luis was today.

"i'm sorry.." was all he could say.

"pfft— you're sorry?" he questioned, light giggles started to emit from his throat, his fist then met jay's face, "you're fucking sorry huh?! you fucking should. be." from the impact jay fell to the ground, not giving him enough time to even breathe M/N kicked him, causing him to roll under a street light. he still hasn't fought back, he took it, he deserved it. it was only a fraction of M/N's rage, he knew the boy had more in him, he wished he could take it all away or maybe go back in time and be there for him yet what was now done, is done.

he left M/N slowly drifting away and found new people and replaced him, M/N stuck by his side all the time and supported him; he was the shoulder he even leaned on at times. he was once the fire that burned so bright in the darkness M/N lived in, he protected him from the harsh words thrown at him, he told him that they weren't true and that M/N will become one of the greatest heroes to exist and that his parents history didn't define who he is. yet one day he threw all that away, the empty promises, all the comforting words, the laughter they shared late at night whenever they'd sleep over at each other's houses. jay wants them all back, he wants his best friend back. but he was the one to let go without even realizing it.

he's the monster that they created. a monster that won't stop for no one's cries, cause no one stopped for his.

jay looked up from his trance noticing M/N was now gone, looking to find him he saw him in the distance, the darkness around him grew darker and darker, more tears slipped from jay's eyes as he wanted to yell something, say something, yet nothing but a whimper came out of his mouth. as he watched M/N, disappear into the darkness. he was gone. and all he did was watch, he could see M/N looking back for a split second before completely disappearing. i guess he still wishes to be saved. but nothing, there was no going back now.

jay wonders what they could've been if he only took M/N's hand when reached out for his. if he never let go, he could've saved someone. he could've saved his best friend.

but it's too late now, he's a monster that he created.

#kpop x male reader #kpop male reader #enhypen x male reader #hero x villain #park jongseong x male reader #jay x male reader #idol x male reader #enhypen

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luvdsc · 4 years

Text

mark lee sucks at technology.

tap the heart if you have a big, fat, embarrassing crush on your best friend!

pairing :: lee mark x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + social influencer au word count :: 5,883 words warnings :: none playlist :: dumb stuff (lany) ⋆ feeling (coin) ⋆ so far so good (gabrielle aplin) ⋆ electric love (børns) ⋆ love by mistake (bad suns) author’s note :: i was debating if i should post it on his bday instead, but i decided to drop it earlier, so uh, happy (approx. one week early) bday to mister absolutely fully capable (except when it comes to tech stuff) !!!! thank you for blessing us with your god tier raps ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

In your required upper division business course aptly titled “Essential Marketing Strategies,” you had learned about a concept called personal brands. A personal brand is explained as the first impression a person wishes to perceive based on their own experiences, qualifications, and achievements. Your professor had told you and your classmates to pick three words to define your own brand. For instance, you chose to label yourself as charismatic, fun, and creative.

Your best friend’s brand would be awkward, endearing, and technologically challenged.

Okay, so that is definitely more than three words, but who’s counting? You might as well tack on “Y/N’s big fat crush” at this rate because everyone and their mother knows that you carry a torch—or more accurately, a blazing wildfire that can easily be spotted from Pluto—for your best friend.

Well, to be more precise, you should probably say everyone, except Mark, knows. And that’s not for lack of trying either. You completely dropped the art of delicate subtlety months ago already. Maybe you should add “hopelessly oblivious” instead.

The rolling end credits to the sixth Harry Potter film are playing on the screen in front of you, signaling the nearing end of your magical movie marathon. You’re seated on the worn down couch in Mark and Donghyuck’s shared apartment, watching the former make his drink with the fancy, gently used Keurig newly settled on the scratched countertop. Johnny dropped it off a few days ago because he had splurged on a better coffee machine (“It even makes Instagram worthy whipped frappuccinos!”) and didn’t want his old, but still perfectly functioning caffeine provider going to waste.

“What’s wrong with this thing?” Mark slaps the side of the machine, and it starts to emit a low whirring noise. “Oh, that’s good, right? That sound is good, you think?”

His question is immediately answered by the sad squirt of hot water speckled with coffee grinds falling into his mug for a few seconds before the machine shuts off.

“What the hell?” he mutters angrily, carding his hand through his hair in frustration, and you finally decide to take pity on your best friend. Getting up from the comfy spot you know you sadly won’t be able to recreate perfectly again later, you stride over to where your best friend stands and flip open the top of the Keurig.

“Hyuck didn’t take out his used coffee pod,” you say, pulling out the incriminating evidence of your best friend’s roommate and disposing it in the trash can next to the refrigerator. “Where’s the espresso one you’re gonna use? Why didn’t you put that in?”

His jaw slackens, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze and mumbling, “I thought I’d just open it later and pour it into my hot water.”

“Mark,” you start, placing your hands on his shoulders firmly and staring into his eyes with a serious look on your face. “Please know that I’m saying this in the most loving way possible, but you are an absolute idiot.”

You release your grip on his shoulders and grab the espresso pod dangling from his fingertips before slotting it into the Keurig. You remove the mug he placed underneath the spout and wash out the accidental coffee water before placing it back in its original position and pressing the start button on the machine. With a sigh, you lean against the side of the counter, glancing at your friend who looks like a child being scolded for stealing from the cookie jar.

“If you pour the pod into your mug, are you just going to chug all the loose coffee grinds, too?”

“... I didn’t think that far ahead.” His lips start to unintentionally form a tiny pout, and your eyes (and your heart, too) soften.

You’re very relieved that Donghyuck is off filming with your friend because he definitely would be making fun of your heart eyes that frequently make an appearance around a certain Mark Lee. Which you always deny. Because you certainly do not have a gigantic crush on your technologically inept best friend.

You glance over at him again and have to physically fight yourself to resist the urge to kiss his cute pout away. Okay, so maybe you harbor a very respectable, medium sized crush. But it's no big deal. It’s completely under control. Unless you’re counting the fact that your best friend is still unaware, and you’re running out of ideas to try and see if he likes you back before you actually shoot your shot. Then it’s very much not under control because you’re losing sleep over it and you don’t know what to do to be any more obvious without stating the, well, obvious.

“Well, now you know. If you forget, you can FaceTime me and I’ll give you instructions on how it works.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly before pausing. “Wait, you do know how to FaceTime, right?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, sulking even more before confessing in a quieter, defeated tone, “Hyuck showed me last month.”

Mark grabs his finished drink and follows behind you, settling back onto the couch next to you. The streaming service already has Deathly Hallows Part 1 in the queue and ready to go, and your best friend is ready to click play until he notices your attention being focused on the smaller screen in your hands. He wonders if you’re about to post another one of your popular cooking videos on that app that shares a name with the most iconic song of the 2000s (hint: the name of the song’s singer is made up of four letters and a dollar sign).

“Are you uploading one of your videos?” he implores before taking a sip of his drink with a satisfied smile. Somehow, it always tastes better when you make it, and he can’t figure out why for the life of him. When he went to Johnny’s place, his older friend uses the exact same pod and water ratio for his espresso, and yet, it’s never as good as yours.

“Nah, I’m ordering my grocery delivery before I forget. Do you want anything?” You select the option to load your usual grocery items into your cart before debating on whether or not you should splurge on buying several packages of those seasonal Pillsbury sugar cookies that only come in stock during certain holidays. It seems like such an insult to the entire premise of your Tiktok account based on baking and cooking, but you’re an absolute sucker for those soft pastries.

“Yeah, can you get me a Shin Ramyun ten pack? Hyuck ate the last one two days ago and didn’t tell me.”

“You sure you don’t want ten boxes again?” You decide to get those Pillsbury sugary delights, happily adding three boxes to your cart. Everybody has a weakness, and yours just so happens to be a premade one way ticket to diabetes. You’re here for a good, delicious time, not a long time.

“No! That was an accident!” He objects, flailing his hands around, before falling back against the couch cushions in defeat. “But Hyuck does all the online grocery shopping now.”

“Thank god. You guys finally have quality toilet paper again.”

The past month of bathroom occurrences was plagued with scratchy tissue that felt more like goddamn sandpaper from the horrible depths of hell. To be honest, you probably would have rather used actual sandpaper, given the choice. You even made sure not to drink too much water any time you came over, but today, you decided to splurge on a venti passion fruit iced tea with sweetener from that very popular franchise sporting a mermaid logo and fiscally cosmic name. To your pleasant surprise, your trip to the toilet this time was wonderfully padded with Charmin Ultra Soft, not that absolutely awful off brand one with the gross texture of a dried pinecone from inferno.

“Hey, that toilet paper was a good steal! It was a three for one deal,” Mark protests, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Wow, I wonder why it was priced so low.” You deadpan, and Mark blanches, recalling all those restroom incidents that were rather rough. Literally.

“Anyway, do you think my viewers wanna see me make chocolate crinkle cookies or mochi doughnuts?” You bring up the two recipes you managed to perfect and add your own spin to on your phone, eyes scanning the ingredient lists.

“Both. And tell me when you’re making them, so I can come over and eat them.” He gives you a wide grin, and you let out a snort at that. His smile only grows as he says happily, “I love your job.”

“You only love it because you can freeload off of me,” you jest, but nevertheless begin to start to add all the ingredients for both recipes to your shopping cart. You always film cooking videos on Tuesdays, edit on Wednesdays, keep Thursdays free for last minute touch ups and emergencies, and post one every week on Fridays with other various random videos uploaded whenever in between. With that in mind, you schedule your upcoming grocery delivery for Monday.

“Hey, you need me. I’m the best taste tester.” He puffs up his chest proudly before hastily tacking on a more genuine reason. “And because I’d starve without you. I can’t live off of instant ramen and frozen chicken nuggets forever. Gordon Ramsay already confirmed my shitty cooking skills. I need you to survive.”

“Oh my god, when I uploaded those pics of your scrambled eggs on Twitter, I lost like a hundred followers in less than a minute.” You confirm the delivery and place your phone on the coffee table, picking up the opened bag of Cheeto puffs before settling back in your seat. “My cooking credibility was completely shot. I had to explain to my fans that I didn’t make those.”

“Yeah, but now everyone calls me Eggy Boi online!” he whines, and you laugh. You have to admit, it’s quite a funny play on the whole “edgy boi” terminology. You wonder if Mark will find it amusing if he discovers his roommate is the culprit behind his new online persona (He probably won’t, and you reckon Donghyuck enjoys living in a safe space where he doesn’t have to sleep with one eye open, so you stay quiet about it. You’ll use it as leverage some other time).

“Okay, Eggy Boi, come by on Tuesday because I’ll be baking in the afternoon,” you say casually, grabbing the remote control from your best friend and pressing play.

You very narrowly avoid a green gummy bear to the face. It lands somewhere behind the couch, lost forever to the dust bunnies and other snacks that missed its target. You know for a fact that it’ll stay there until the boys decide to move to a new apartment. Mark grumbles at the miss, biting off the head of a red cherry flavored gummy bear perhaps a little harder than necessary.

“I hate you. But I’m still coming over next week because I want a doughnut.”

“No cookie?”

“... and a cookie. Maybe two.”

Wednesday comes faster than you expected, and you’re currently holed up in your apartment’s second bedroom—which you had transformed into a snazzy office space—completing the edits to your second video on mochi doughnuts. You already finished polishing the one about the cookies earlier, thank goodness. If you had to stare at your computer screen for another three hours, you would rather eat those pastries Mark tried to make two months ago, but had mistaken salt for sugar. Adding a cup of salt to any baked good is an extremely effective way to make anyone who tasted your best friend’s brownies experience a trip to the beach. Because they essentially just swallowed a mouthful of sand and ocean water. Because it’s salty as heck. Just like Mark was when you told him.

Speaking of your best friend, he’s currently puttering around in your kitchen doing god knows what. He knows better than to try another recipe and possibly blow up your number one moneymaker—your prized oven—in the process. Your heart nearly drops when your ears pick up the faint chopping sounds of a knife against your wooden cutting board. Is he going to try to temper chocolate again? He nearly burned through your entire stock of dark, milk, and white chocolate last time.

After much contemplation and deciding that you deserve a good procrastination break and a fully intact kitchen, you’re about to go out and see what he’s up to when Mark timidly appears in your doorway, clutching onto a white bowl of watermelon cubes with a fork tucked neatly in it. He shuffles in, dropping the snack on your desk before turning to walk out without a word, not wanting to disturb your work mode.

Your heart warms up at the sight, and you speak up, a small smile slipping into your face. “What’s this for?”

“Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” He pauses in the doorway and adds on sheepishly, “And I can't cook anything, so this is what you get.”

Your heart swells tenfold, and your smile widens even more as you spear a piece of fruit with the fork and quickly pop it into your mouth. “Thanks, Marky.”

His cheeks flush with a pretty shade of carmine, and he fails to suppress the little giddy smile that appears on his face at your nickname for him. He walks out of your office, reddened cheeks still rising up higher than ever. “Y-Yeah, of course. No problem.”

By the time you finish adding the final few touches to your edited video, the bowl of watermelon has been picked clean. You save your video and transfer both of your completed projects to your phone, making a mental note to schedule their uploads and add them to your account’s posting queue later. Shoving your phone in the pocket of your sweats after ensuring the successful transfer of your videos, you pick up the empty dish and walk out towards the kitchen, the silver fork clinking against the side of the bowl with every step.

As you wash the dish and utensil, Mark wanders over from his spot on the couch, leaning forward and casually placing his chin on your shoulder. Almost instantaneously, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you briefly fantasize about your best friend wrapping his arms around your waist and how domestic and sweet the two of you would look, like one of those cheesy couples the two of you always made fun of.

“What’s up?” you ask, making a conscious effort to hold your voice steady and not waver over the fact that Mark is basically draped over you. After you place the dish on the drying rack, you turn around to face your best friend, sorely miscalculating the distance as mere inches separate your face from his now.

“I—” Puberty decides to make an ugly appearance in the form of an ill timed voice crack, and he internally curses as he takes a step back, willing the incoming blush to go away. Letting out a small cough, he tries again, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I, um, Jisung sent me some kind of dance video. He said it’s a challenge? I kinda don’t know what to do with it? Like do I make a new dance, record myself, and send it back? Actually, isn't it easier to just do a dance battle face to face?”

“Can I see the video?” You already have a good idea on what the video will be, but you want to confirm it. Mark fumbles with his phone, pulling up the video in his text messages. He angles the phone towards you for you to see, and you grab his hand, bringing the device a little closer to you for a better look and clicking play.

“Oh, it’s a Tiktok challenge! He’s doing the Say So dance!” you exclaim, recognizing the song almost immediately as your eyes follow the fluid dance moves, completely enthralled. “So a challenge isn’t going up against someone, like a battle. It’s just some kind of trend or concept that you try to copy yourself. You’re supposed to learn the same dance and record yourself for this one. I can show you some other challenges and help you practice and record this one tomorrow if you wanna drop by after work!”

“O-Oh, okay, sounds good.” Mark stumbles over his words, attempting to focus on what you’re saying and the dance Jisung is doing, but all he can think about is the way your body is pressed against his side, hand comfortably wrapped around his. He freezes up as the tips of his ears grow redder and redder with every passing second, and his face sports a similar color. He silently prays for the telltale crimson to go away by the time the dance is over.

When the video ends, you once again realize the close proximity between you and your best friend. Your face burns at this revelation, and you awkwardly take a step back. Clearing your throat, you hastily release Mark’s hand (He inaudibly lets out the breath he’s been holding in this entire time, yet he also already misses the way your hand felt grasping his).

“Uh, anyway, I’m gonna make a latte. Do you want a drink, too?” You walk towards the other side of your kitchen with Mark trailing behind you. You take out a floral, peachy colored mug from your cupboards before pausing and looking at your best friend. “Wait, do you remember how to use a Keurig?”

“Yes!” He says, slightly exasperated as he picks out his own cup from your cabinet. He always uses the same one—a cerulean blue mug with squiggles all over it—and all of your friends and guests know not to use it because it’s unofficially officially Mark’s mug (And perhaps, you did indeed buy it from that overpriced kitschy tableware shop down the street two years ago with your best friend in mind).

“Really?” You select the latte option and press start after you had already positioned the mug beneath the spout and inserted a green tea matcha pod. He finally relents, shoulders sagging and a defeated expression on his face.

“... No.”

You chuckle, taking the mug from him and carefully putting it on the counter. You grab the espresso pod you know he likes from the drawer below and place it next to the cup. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you again.”

Mark tries. He really does. He tries very hard to concentrate on memorizing the simple process, but he keeps getting distracted. His eyes are focused on the correct button to push before they start to trail up to your fingertips. And then, they go from your hand to your arm, then up to the elegant curve of your neck, and finally, to the way your lashes frame your pretty eyes and how the tip of your tongue sticks out slightly as you concentrate until all he can focus on is you, you, you.

Suddenly, in what feels like a blink of an eye, you’re done and handing him his finished drink, complete with a perfectly whipped milk foam on top. You ask him if he knows how to make it now, and all he can do is lie and nod with a barely convincing smile.

After all, how can Mark tell his best friend that the reason he never remembers is because you’re the biggest distraction?

Mark should be here in five minutes, according to his most recent text message. And in the text message below that, your friend had sent you a challenge. More specifically, it’s the one she completed with Donghyuck a few weeks ago. When you said you wanted bold suggestions on how to figure out if your best friend feels the same way about you as you do about him, you didn’t want one this bold.

Yet, the video link to your friend’s “today I kissed my best friend” challenge along with a winky face from her is staring mockingly at you. While you aren’t one to back down from a challenge, the mere thought of kissing your best friend causes vast colonies of butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your ears to feel as if they have caught on fire. You’re already tongue tied with your head in the clouds, and he isn’t even here yet. How utterly fantastic.

However, your mother definitely did not raise a quitter, so you spring into action when you hear the faint jingling of a key being inserted into your apartment’s door (You had given Mark a copy of your key almost immediately after you had moved in). You move the pretty indoor fern given to you by Jaemin as a housewarming gift last year closer to the edge of your towering bookcase, leaning your phone against it. You quickly position the device to capture a good view of the couch area in your living room and press the record button, arranging a few of the leaves to hide as much of your phone as you possibly can without obstructing the lens.

You run full speed to your bedroom, letting out a sigh of relief when you’re safely inside and hear Mark finally unlocking the door successfully and shuffling in. When he calls out to you, you try to even out your breathing, walking out of your room with your tripod and laptop in hand.

“Hey,” you greet him in the most casual tone you can muster. You place the tripod down and sit before opening your laptop and setting it on the coffee table. “I thought we could watch a few challenges for fun before trying the Say So one. Have you watched Jisung’s videos before?”

“Um, well, no, not really,” he confesses sheepishly, taking a seat next to you on the couch, leg pressing against yours. He squints at the YouTube video you pulled up earlier before he had arrived, reading the title before clicking the space button to start it. “Savage Tiktok dance compilation part two?”

“Wait, hold up.” You pause the video and then turn to face him with an incredulous expression on your face. “You’ve never watched any of Jisung’s dance Tiktoks?”

“No… I don’t even have an account.” His cheeks are dusted with the lightest shade of pink as he quietly admits, “I watch all of yours though.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, face heating up as you stammer out, “O-Oh, well, I can help you make an account later to upload your video.”

“Sounds good.” There’s a few seconds of silence as you mull over his previous words before he speaks up again awkwardly, “Should I, uh, play the video?”

“Oh! Yes, right! Of course, hit play,” you laugh nervously, twisting and playing with the hair tie around your wrist. He starts the video again, and the two of you watch the compilation, slowly relaxing once more as you tap your fingers to the rhythm of the song and he bobs his head to the beat.

“Do I have to change outfits like that?” he questions a few minutes later, eyes growing round as he sees the girl on the screen switch between four different outfits throughout the dance. His closet basically consists of the same five black shirts that he stole from Jaehyun. Even if he did do an outfit swap, there would literally be no difference at all.

“You don’t have to,” you assure him, clicking the enter key to play the next video that’s recommended: another Tiktok dance challenge compilation. “All you have to do is copy the dance.”

Mark nods, taking a glance at the laptop screen before his hand shoots out and he pauses the video, leaning forward to take a closer look at the little recommended video title banner at the top. “Wait! What’s that one?”

He clicks on it, the new video now loading up. The two of you wait patiently for it to begin, waiting for the spinning disc to stop. But it doesn’t. In fact, the whole chrome page goes blank and then, the little pixelated Google Chrome dinosaur pops up on your monitor, announcing that you have no internet connection. Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to reload the page before trying to re-establish your laptop connection to your wifi. Unfortunately, you cannot find your appropriately named “drop it like it’s hotspot” wifi anywhere to connect to.

And that’s when it hits you. Your landlord had sent out a notice to the entire apartment complex last week about the electricity being powered down today from 4 to 6 p.m. for a maintenance check, and a quick glance at the digital clock on your laptop shows that it’s a little past four.

You groan, closing your laptop and flopping back against the couch cushions dramatically. Mark cocks his head, slightly confused, before he pokes you in the arm. “What’s wrong?”

“I completely forgot about the scheduled electricity shutdown for the entire building. We won’t have any wifi for the next two hours.” You pout, your bottom lip jutting out in the slightest, and Mark doesn’t think it’s fair that you get to be this cute and have this much of an effect on his racing heart rate.

“That’s okay, we can… play some board games?” he suggests offhandedly, pushing away the embarrassing thought and nudging your leg with his, and you smile before a sudden idea occurs to you.

“Or we can still do some Tiktok challenges! What was the challenge you clicked on?” You quickly sit upright, turning to face your best friend, eyes sparkling in excitement. “I memorized a few of the dance ones already! Was it Renegade? I can teach you that one. Jisung showed me how to do it.”

“Um,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His eyes dart everywhere, except you, as he lets out a feigned cough. “It wasn’t a dance one. It was about, uh, going up to your boyfriend… and um, hugging him... when he’s playing video games.”

“Oh.” You answer lamely, not knowing what to say. You unsuccessfully try to push away the image of you attempting that challenge with your best friend. “Those are really cute.”

“Really?” He says doubtfully, wrinkling his eyebrows and fiddling with the frayed sleeve of his sweater. “Wouldn’t the dude get mad?”

You don’t know what suddenly possessed you to do this (you’ll have to ask Renjun and his paranormal loving ass later), but you thank whatever demon did for that split second because you find yourself gently grabbing Mark’s arm and slipping your head underneath it. You swing one leg over his lap and settle down until you’re securely sitting in his lap, bent legs on either side of his hips, hands curled around the soft fabric of his sweater on both sides and resting on top of your thighs. His arms instinctively go around your waist, wrapping around you securely.

You tilt your head to the side slightly, studying the flustered boy in front of you with a teasing, albeit a little anxious, smile on your lips. “Are you feeling mad?”

Splotches of red litter his cheeks and decorate the tips of his ears, but your best friend furiously shakes his head at your question, bashfully ducking his head afterwards and muttering a soft “No.”

You swallow hard, heart pounding erratically in your chest as you timidly ask, “Would you be mad if I do this?”

Mark looks up at that, confusion written all over his face. His arms start to loosen around your figure, hands now resting on your waist. “If you do what?”

You take a deep breath. “This.”

You lean in and gently press your lips against his. Mark freezes in shock, and you quickly retreat soon after, gnawing at the inside of your cheek as you wait anxiously for his reaction. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and be buried six feet under.

A tiny noise of surprise belatedly escapes from him and crimson spreads across his cheeks like wildfire. His doe eyes are wide and sparkling, staring at you in bewilderment. Your best friend lets out a small laugh of disbelief before a full blown smile breaks out across his face. He gazes at you adoringly, breathing out softly, “I’m not mad at that.”

You perk up at that, draping your arms around his neck as you lean forward, beaming. “Really? You’re not?”

“Definitely not.”

This time, Mark meets you halfway, his lips slotting against yours perfectly and making you feel tingles up and down your spine. Your eyes are closed, and you are so hyper aware of the way his hands grip your hips, how he tugs you closer, and how his lips chase after yours. The number of butterflies from earlier multiply in your stomach, and you have ascended past cloud nine by now.

When the two of you break apart, your eyes flutter open, and you nudge your nose against his affectionately. The brightest grin blooms on his face once again, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his little giggles and hiding the awfully vibrant cerise that rapidly blossoms on his face.

“Is this a good time to tell you congrats for completing your first challenge?” you say, resting your cheek against the crown of his head. You pull away when he lifts his head up, surprised.

“I wasn’t playing video games though,” he says slowly, processing your words and thinking back to the challenge that started this all.

“It was a different challenge. It’s the one that Hyuck did a few weeks ago,” you confess, and realization dawns on him, his face lighting up for a split second before a look of horror takes over.

“Oh, no. Is that why you had your phone recording on the bookshelf?” Mark asks, dread beginning to cloud his mind.

“Yes…” you say slowly, a little perplexed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Oh my god, I ruined your video,” he moans, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. “I saw your phone when I walked in and thought you were filming earlier and forgot to turn it off, so I turned it off for you.”

When the words finally register in your mind, you can’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of your throat, and he raises his head up to look at you with wide doe eyes at the pretty sound. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

You can’t stop laughing at the situation, and he looks at you worriedly, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly. You force yourself to calm down, a soft chuckle leaving your lips before you beam at him, leaning in and placing the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. “It’s okay, Mark. I’m not mad. That video wasn’t important anyway.”

“But still,” he whines before letting out a groan and slapping his hand against his forehead when the realization sinks in even further. “I’m such an idiot.”

“But you’re my idiot now, right?” you say teasingly, albeit a little shyly as well, as you reach over to tug his hand away from his face and lace your fingers with his.

“I mean, I kinda thought I was always your idiot,” Mark laughs softly and a little embarrassedly, eyes averted and cheeks turning pinker than ever. The largest grin spreads across your face at that, and you turn away slightly to hide it. You didn’t think your best friend can possibly be any more endearing, but he manages to prove you wrong every time.

“Well, then now you can add ‘Y/N’s boyfriend’ to your resume,” you say, and he fails to suppress the pleased smile appearing on his face at your remark, his rosy cheeks rising even taller than skyscrapers.

“So, uh, what sort of job description does that have?” He gazes at your intertwined hands in wonder, still completely giddy at the reality of you being his best friend and something more.

“Sharing hoodies, giving me attention, kissing, holding my hand, going on dates, you know, the basics,” you answer, squeezing his hand tenderly, and his doe eyes instantly light up. Mark feels a little bolder than before, and it shows when he grins widely and says:

“Can we do number three again?”

“Yes, we can, Eggy Boi.”

He wrinkles his nose at the name, disgruntled and unimpressed, as he crosses his arms over his chest, sulking. You let out a laugh before leaning in and crashing your lips against his. He immediately relents at that, enthusiastically responding and hugging you closer to him, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as you feel his own smile appear as well.

At that moment, you decide that you want to change Mark’s personal brand. Because his should be “absolutely wonderful, positively amazing, a cute kisser, your boyfriend, and your bestest friend.” And yes, that is most definitely more than the allotted three words, but again, who’s really counting?

Certainly not you when you’re too preoccupied with kissing your best friend. Correction: best friend and new boyfriend.

One new notification: donutkillmyvibe uploaded a new video!

moominjun commented:

so you’re saying the reason why we didn’t get the highly anticipated best friend challenge video is because @ marklyrawr turned the camera off?

donutkillmyvibe replied: yes 😔 I’m sorry to disappoint everyone 🤧

nanaislove replied: omg no bby it’s ok 🥺🥺💞💓💓💝💗 you didn’t have to make an apology video for that 🥺💗💓💘💖

goofys.chuckle replied: yeah it’s mark’s fault. he’s the disappointment here 🥴

morklyrawr replied: hahahahaha stfu hyuck

tytrack commented:

mark is going through puberty. I apologize

dobunny replied: @.@

goofys.chuckle commented:

are we getting whip(ped)lash pt 2 by eggy boi?

morklyrawr replied: YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED THAT NAME?????

goofys.chuckle replied: uh gotta blast 🚀

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle does this mean you’re staying over again?

goofys.chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet yes if you want your super cute, mega talented, very handsome boyfriend to still be alive 🥺

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle oh my god I didn’t know I was dating bts jin???

moominjun replied: LMFAOOOOO

goofys.chuckle replied: heart 💔 been broke 📉 so many times ⏰ i don’t know 🤔 what to believe 💯 mama 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 said 🗣 it’s my fault 😢 it’s my fault 🤦🏻‍♂️i wear my heart ❤️ on my sleeve 💪 i think it’s best 👍🏻 I put my heart ❤️ on ice 🧊

jenojam commented:

why am I not surprised……

itsmebetch replied: just mark thingz 🍉

suhprisemf commented:

mark your head looks flat af

jungjaeprince replied: 😂😂😂

10vely replied: @ jungjaeprince be quiet don’t cry

letswonwon commented:

whoop whoop

junguwu commented:

OMG CONGRATS ON YOUR RELATIONSHIP SWEETIE 😍😍

takoyaki_prince commented:

MARK!!!!! you look handsome !! 😘

jisungpwark commented:

rip to @ donutkillmyvibe ’s future videos that mark will ruin. press f in the chat to pay respects 🙏🏻

bigheadking replied: F ✊🏻😔

peachyangel replied: f 🥺🥺

yoitslucas replied: F 🤪🤪🤪 but glad you’re happy, man ❤️

donutkillmyvibe replied: F 💔

morklyrawr replied: @ donutkillmyvibe wtf babe????

officialgordonramsay commented:

didn’t i tell you to get back on tinder ?

apado_god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

3K notes · View notes

yutahoes · 3 years

Text

No Strings Attached

characters : Yuta Nakamoto, Reader, Jung Jaehyun, Taeyong is also mentioned

genre : smut

warning : Smut (Teasing, Breast Fondling, Light Bondage, Spanking, Rough Sex), Cheating, Alcohol

summary : It’s just one night. No strings attached. What could go wrong?

word count : 3.5k

tag list : @ailoveyuta @yutazen01 @aiforyuu

a/n: This is for plot purpose only but I don’t condone nor encourage cheating. I don’t know where this came from. Please forgive me for I have sinned. 🙏 And since I’m not satisfied with how this ended, I might post a second part. Should I? Please let me know.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

"Baby girl, what are you doing here?" Yuta asked that made you roll your eyes at him. Of all the bars in Seoul, why do you have to meet him here? And now? Really? "Does your boyfriend know you're here?" Funny he would say that.

Yuta is a common friend of both your boyfriend and your brother so eventually, you just hang out with him often. He's the perfect embodiment of a resident fuckboy. Evident was the way he winked at one of the girls dancing on the dance floor. You shook your head as the bartender left the glass of the Long Island Iced Tea you ordered.

"Pretty hard drink. Is Jaehyun picking you up?"

"You don't need to concern yourself with me. Go, Yuta. Have fun with your girlies." You waved a hand to shoo him away but he just chuckled.

Instead, he ordered a whiskey from the bartender. "Do you have problems, princess?" That nickname. He would always tease you that since you're pretty spoiled with your brother and your boyfriend. But among all the boys in your life, Yuta is the only one who calls you that. Honestly, you wanted Jaehyun to call you the same.

"I'm bored." You confessed. He cocked an eyebrow at you and you continued, "Jaehyun is so romantic but that's all he is." You don't know why you're telling him this but Yuta is like an extension of your brother and you knew he wouldn't judge you, the same way as how you wouldn't talk about the girls he gave tongue in the girls' restroom during college years. "He's great in bed and all but…"

"Wait, hold up." He reacted quickly. "You and Jaehyun are fucking?" You nodded surprised that he wouldn't think of that. He knew that you sometimes spend nights at Jaehyun's place. Does he think you only play rock paper scissors in his place? "I thought you're pretty innocent."

You had to laugh at that. You're way different from that. "Do you think Jae would tell TY the things we do?" He chuckled then nodded. Taeyong, your brother, is actually the innocent one. "If we do much." You mumbled under your breath which he caught. "I wish Jaehyun isn't too vanilla."

Yuta lightly coughed. "You don't like him being vanilla?" You shook your head. "God, baby girl, I'm seeing you in a new light." A frustrated sigh escaped his lips and he obviously is checking you out.

You bit your lip. There must be a reason why girls can't get enough of this playboy. And damn, you wanted to hear that pet name repeatedly while he thrust into you. You shook your head. Yuta Nakamoto? You can't.

"Have you talked to Jaehyun about this?" You badly want to tell him something but you also don't want to hit his ego hard. You know how sensitive Jaehyun is. He might take this the wrong way. "Obviously, you haven't."

"Jaehyun is a great guy, Yuta. I just don't like that he treats me like a fragile object." You shared, alcohol taking its toll on you. "I want him to be rough on me. I want him to spank me." By now, you don't even know what you're saying but you're so frustrated that you decided to let everything go. "I just want someone to fuck me dumb…"

Yuta's lips were on you before you could finish your sentence. And when you moaned at his roughness, his tongue entered your mouth. He tasted like whiskey, and cigarettes, and a pungent taste that you cannot pinpoint. A taste different from Jaehyun. You pushed him before he could touch your waist, panting at how steamy that kiss was. "What the hell, Yuta?"

He smirked, wiping his lip with his thumb and you notice the color of your lipstick on his. "You said so yourself, you just want someone to fuck you dumb." His thumb came in contact with your bottom lip. "You're just curious so let me give you that experience."

You gulped at how intimidating he is. "But Jaehyun…"

"It's not cheating if he doesn't find out." His fingers moved to your cheek then tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Just one rough sex, baby girl. No strings attached."

This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. For starters, it was you who said yes. So why are you getting scared now? Truthfully, you have been curious about Yuta's sexual status. Even your friends would often share that he's such a sex God so it's a mystery for you on what kind of man Yuta is in bed.

But you're dating Jaehyun. It isn't right that you had sex with someone, moreover Jaehyun's friend, when you're in a rough patch like this.

Yuta's hands held your waist, facing you to him. There were only the two of you in the elevator heading to his penthouse. "What are you thinking, baby girl?" And you wanted to melt at that. His lips hover above yours, whispering "Tell me what you want."

"I want you to fuck me, Yuta."

You were pushed on the wall of the elevator. He pulled both your arms up, holding both with one hand as his lips roughly took yours. His other hand pushed your waist that you felt your back on the elevator wall. He raised one of his legs, touching your core that made you moan.

This is wrong.

First, this is cheating. You have a boyfriend, for crying out loud. If Jaehyun finds out about it, not only will your relationship end. His and Yuta's. Probably yours and Yuta's as well.

Second, someone can see the two of you. But it only turned you on much more. The thought that someone watching the two of you behind the security camera made you so wet that you started begging Yuta when he let go of the kiss.

He stared at you, cursing, and you were blinded at how hot that sounded that you held on his shoulder. "Two floors left, baby girl." He claimed glancing at the led showing the floor numbers. "Then I'll have my way on you."

You've known Yuta for so long but this is the first time that you're alone in his penthouse. Usually, you would come here with either Taeyong or Jaehyun so a weird yet familiar feeling bubbled in the pit of your stomach. "Sit down." He ordered in a commanding tone making you gulp. You quickly sat on his couch, following his every move.

He removed his watch, placing it above the coffee table as he knelt in front of you. "Y/N." And you suddenly realized that he never called you by your name, it's always 'princess' or 'baby girl'. Why does your name sound so hot rolling on his tongue like that? He held both your lap and the spot blazed in warmness. "Do you really want to do this?"

You nodded. "Words, baby. I want you to communicate with me."

"Yes, Yuta. I want to do this."

His tongue trailed his bottom lip as your gaze followed it, wanting that tongue somewhere in your body. Just somewhere moist would be nice. "You want it rough?" Once again, you had to nod but he reminded you of using your words. "Spanking?" You gulped. You badly wanted to but you've never tried it before. Will you get hurt? "Safe word." He asked while standing up in front of you, towering above you.

Your eyes widened at that. He's progressing fast. And a safe word? You might really get hurt. "Yuta, I don't think we need…"

"Trust me, princess, you do."

You watched as he unbuckled his belt, removing it from his pants in just one swift motion. Will he hit you with that? You should really think this through. "Vanilla!" You blurted out suddenly, closing your eyes.

His fingers were on your chin, urging you to look at him. "That's cute, sweetheart." A new nickname. "Now take off your clothes." He watched you with lust-filled eyes as you remove your sweater and the thin camisole underneath to reveal your midnight blue brassiere.

"God, Jaehyun is one lucky bastard." His tongue darted out once again as he wrapped his belt on his hand. "Take this off, baby."

Your hands were shaking as you removed the only cloth covering your breasts. In your defense, this was the first time that you're naked in front of another guy other than your boyfriend. Yuta's gaze isn't helping as well. Is he turned on? Does he like what he's seeing? His other hand, the left one without the belt wrapped on it, was held in front of you so you gave him the brassiere which he threw somewhere across the room.

"Why are you so nervous?" He sat beside you as you breathed heavily. Why are you so nervous? It's not like it is your first time having sex. You control Jaehyun whenever you're together so why are you such a submissive for Yuta? Is it the air of dominance that he exudes? Or because you really yearned to be submissive for once? "I won't hurt you." He assured as his lips went yours, sucking your tongue. He licked your bottom lip when he pulled out, "You remember the safe word, right?"

"Yes." You breathed. It was you who wanted this. It was you who initiated this. You wanted to feel this. You want this. "Take me, Yuta."

His lust hooded eyes were back as his right hand touched your breast. The coldness of the leather belt, a contrast to the blazing sensation of your skin. His thumb played with your erect nipple, twirling and pulling. You had to close your eyes, whimpers escaping your mouth at the sensation. "You're so pretty." He mumbled as he nuzzled his head between your breasts, licking the exposed skin. "I want to mark you but you're not mine."

Yuta's tongue licked your nipple while staring straight at you that made you arch your back, pushing your breasts closer to him. His mouth devoured your breast, tongue playing with the perky nipples inside his mouth. He's so good with his mouth. Really good.

He went to the other breast, his right hand rubbing your thigh while the other was placed on your waist. All you could do is moan. Yep, the rumors are true. Yuta is such a God.

By now, you're so wet that you raised your hips for some friction but he pushed you back. You crossed your legs as you felt the bubbling in your stomach. "Yuta, please." You begged as you felt him smirk. "I'm…" But he let go of your breast with a pop, staring at you.

Annoyed, you sat on his lap and started grinding your wet core against his pants. You wanted that release that he just denied to you. You wanted to cum already. But obviously, he had other things in mind. "Naughty, baby. Are you that desperate?" You nodded. "Lie down, stomach flat."

You didn't even know where this was going but you followed him, you lay down on his lap. His erect member can be felt against your stomach and you focus on his hands. His left hand touched your hair, down to your naked back then stopped at the waistband of your jeans. His right hand followed the same route and you moaned at the rough feeling of leather. You felt his hand on the cheeks of your butt and realized where this is going.

You closed your eyes as you felt his hand slap one of the cheeks, moaning at how the pain changed into pleasure quickly.

Another slap. But this time you had to yelp at the pain. The layers of the belt sent a sting on your ass that you cursed, "That hurts."

"You don't like it?" You wanted it but the consequence is that you cannot sit properly tomorrow. You shook your head. "Such a baby." He grazed the leather clad hand on your back once again, tapping your shoulders. "Both hands up."

It was difficult but you obeyed him. The leather was wrapped on both your wrists tightly, secured by the last loophole. He kissed your bound wrist, letting your arms stretch out above you. "I'll hit you five times. You shouldn't miss a count, understood?" You nodded and he slapped you immediately. "I said words, baby girl."

"Yes, Yuta." You breathed out. He gave you a warning then slapped you once again, stronger than the first two he did. You screamed the first number as you heard a hum escaped his lips. He gently caressed your butt cheeks before slapping it the second time, then the third and fourth. This was it, the roughness that you have been yearning for. You were so turned on.

He was done with the fifth one but he slapped you again, surprising you. "Yuta, you're done." You revolted but he smirked. "You missed counting." Another slap and you started with one, once again. You enunciated every number until five clearly so that he'll never miss it. A sigh escaped your lips when he was done and rubbing your butt cheeks. "Good girl."

The wetness on your core is all that matters now. You wanted to be fucked, rough. "Yuta, please fuck me." In the same position, he carried you to his room dropping you to his bed that you even bounced on the mattress. You were now facing him as he removed his shirt.

Why haven't you realized that Yuta has a navel piercing? That makes it so hot. You wanted to trail your tongue and see how sensitive it is. “You like what you see, princess?” You nodded, biting your lip as you anticipated what he would do next.

He kneeled on the bed, legs spread caging you in. You can easily see the outline of his bulge on his pants. You arched your back as you desperately tried to have contact with him, wanting to touch him but the belt on your wrists isn’t letting you. He chuckled at your attempt, smirking as he slowly unbuttoned your jeans. You raised your hip up to let him pull the material down, throwing it once again across the room.

Your breathing hitched against your throat as his hands trailed your leg north to where the edge of your matching underwear is. “You are so wet.” His fingers traced the wetness on the materials, pushing when he felt your throbbing clit. His thumb pressed on the same spot as you squirmed at the immense pleasure. Two fingers playing with the clothed lips of your core. “You are so wet. Look at how your pussy is taking me.” You don’t need to look. You knew. You could feel how his fingers were sinking into you even if you still have your underwear on.

“Yuta, please.” You begged. You wanted something, anything to take you to your orgasm. To give you the pleasure you badly wanted since you entered his penthouse. But a fucker as he is, he removed his fingers on you. A groan escaped your mouth as he chuckled at your desperate state. The Japanese guy stood up and you followed him with a wanting gaze. He took something from the bedside table that made your eyes widened. This is it. It’s really happening.

Yuta unbuttoned his pants, removing them from him. “I want to feel you cum.” You gulped at his size when he removed his boxers. He opened one condom with his teeth, putting it on his length. If possible, it got bigger. “You still remember the safe word, right?” You nodded then answered him a soft yes. He removed your underwear, parting your legs together as he leaned closer. He sank into you as a scream escaped your throat. He’s huge and you felt your walls clenching tight into him. “God, you’re so tight. Doesn’t Jaehyun fuck you good?”

The mention of the name brought you to your edge. The orgasm that you badly want and he just entered you. You wanted to touch him, to claw at something while he thrusts into you forcefully that your body is bouncing against the mattress. “God, I can’t believe Jaehyun isn’t fucking you good,” he mumbled, drilling his cock inside you. “If you’re mine, I’ll make sure that you cannot move from this bed.” His thrusts were forceful, taking no mercy on you. And you liked it, a total difference from Jaehyun who likes to take everything slowly.

He kept hitting that pleasure spot that made you cum the second time but he didn’t stop although you’re still sensitive. He kept on abusing your pussy, complaining about your tightness and how your vagina clenched on him. All you could do is scream his name and squirm at the roughness he’s showing. Indeed, a true Sex God.

He came in the condom and you breathed heavily. You cannot do this again, Yuta is such a monster. No wonder girls find him intimidating and really good in bed. To your surprise, he opened another pack of condom while jerking his cock with his hand. “What…?” He turned you around after putting the condom on his erect cock, raising your hip up and pushing your head on the pillow. “Yuta!” A slap on your ass made you surprised before he entered you from behind. Your moans were muffled by the pillow as he kept thrusting while slapping your butt cheeks.

Fuck, Yuta is so rough. But it turns you on so much that even if you don’t want to do this anymore, your body is still reacting differently. His hand held on your hair in a ponytail, pulling it that you had to raise your head. You breathe in a lungful of air, only realizing that you had trouble breathing earlier. Yuta will be your death, you’re sure of that. And he doesn’t look like he’ll stop anytime soon. “Yuta…” You called, tears springing from your eyes. You wanted sex to be rough but not this rough. You’re hurting. “Vanilla.” You shouted.

In a snap, he was out of you and you kind of regretted shouting that word. He reached out for the belt on your wrists, undoing it to free your arms. “Clean yourself.” he gestured to the door. “I’ll get you something to wear.”

Your legs were shaking, giving out on you but Yuta already left the room so you had to drag yourself to the bathroom. A lot of things were running in your mind when the warm water of the shower hit you. You had sex with Yuta. You cheated on Jaehyun. You felt disgusted with yourself for letting your wild self do this. This is your fault. You should have thought of the consequences before agreeing to Yuta. Now, your friendship is in danger. And if Jaehyun finds out, all hell will break loose.

“I’ll call Jaehyun first thing in the morning. Take a rest.” Yuta claimed after leaving his clothes outside the shower room. She should at least tell Jaehyun that this happened. "And please, let this be our dirty secret Y/N." You lightly glanced at the door, seeing his silhouette. "I don't want you or Jaehyun hurt because of what I did. You two deserved better." He leaned his head on the door. "So please, let's keep this to ourselves." --

You were already clothed with your own clothes when the doorbell rang. Thinking that Yuta might answer it, you didn’t bother about it. But minutes dragged and there's no one answering it that you went outside the room and opened the door. Jaehyun was looking at you in worry, holding your cheek asking what’s wrong. “I kept on calling you. Luckily, Yuta hyung called me and said you were here.”

“Jaehyun…” A male grunt can be heard from the kitchen before she could speak, followed by a girl calling Yuta’s name. Your eyes widened in surprise as you saw him bending a girl on the kitchen counter. When he noticed the two of you, he just covered his naked waist with a kitchen towel, smacking the girl’s ass, and asked her to wait for him.

Jaehyun gave another look at the girl who was eating the sausages. “So that’s your girlfriend.” Your boyfriend asked which made the Japanese nod while smirking. “Thank you for taking care of Y/N. I’ll take her home now.”

Yuta smiled, nodding at him. Jaehyun held your hand, pulling you out but Yuta had to stop the two of you. “The thread of your sweater.” he said as he held both of your shoulders, standing dangerously close to you that you can feel his hard-on. You glanced at Jaehyun who was checking his phone, “Call me.” Yuta whispered then handed something that surprised you.

Two strings. Tied together in a knot.

Fuck, he wanted more.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

PART 2.

#yuta smut #yuta nakamoto smut #nct smut

386 notes · View notes

bikerjongho · 3 years

Text

in the coop | kang yeosang

genre: humor

character: college student!yeosang ft. college student!wooyoung

description: Yeosang and Wooyoung hatch and execute a plan to steal a chicken from a county fair to save it from the butcher.

word count: 3.1k

warnings: a little bit of swearing

author’s note: happy birthday yeosang!! <3 a gift for you. eat lots of chicken today! thank you for entertaining atiny with your humor and kindness. and leif, I hope you enjoy this especially, because I wrote this with you in mind. <3

taglist: @itsapapisongo @mangomingki @irehlevant @blueprint-han

The county fair was a treat to behold once a year. Though the smells were less of a treat to witness - filled with smells of starchy food and sweaty children, Yeosang and Wooyoung had to adapt to ignore it. Wooyoung did this by buying an enormous and sugar-coated funnel cake. When he dove into it while the two of them walked around the fairgrounds, a bit of powdered sugar dusted his nose.

Yeosang opted for a corndog. It was less messy and perhaps a bit healthier in comparison with the funnel cake. "You're going to have an awful stomachache when we leave," he said while he watched Wooyoung shove an absurdly large piece of funnel cake into his mouth.

"And?" Wooyoung said between chews, the powdered sugar on his nose that Yeosang had not bothered to mention making him look like a white Rudolph. "When else can I have funnel cake?"

Wooyoung was right, the fair was the only place Yeosang could think of that actually had funnel cake. But he wouldn't be surprised if Wooyoung birthed a food baby and a stomachache the next day. Yeosang took another bite of his corndog and decided not to push the matter.

They had been at the fair for a few hours now, going on rides that made their stomachs rearrange themselves and gave some usage to their vocal chords while they screamed. They were on break now, enjoying their dinners and pondering what to do next while their food settled.

Wooyoung had suggested they play tented games, like throwing ping pong balls onto the top of glass bottles or throwing balls to knock down clown faces in order to win a prize at the end of it. But Yeosang decided against it. "Those games are so incredibly rigged, we'd just waste our money because it's impossible to win," he said, so they both ignored the heckling game owner that tried to sell them balls so they could play his game.

"So what do we do?" Wooyoung pushed. "Stare at the farm animals?" He asked, and then gestured to the animal exhibition that was growing closer to them in the distance.

"Exactly!" Yeosang grinned. He was actually excited to see the animals, but Wooyoung groaned.

"Wouln't that be boring?" He whined.

"Not at all," Yeosang said, waving his corndog stick at him. "The animals are cute and we can compare them to our friends. I swear I saw a sheep that looked just like Seonghwa."

At the mention of making fun of their friends, Wooyoung's face broke out into an enormous and evil grin. "Then let's meet these furry friends!" He said and marched ahead of Yeosang to the cow barn.

Upon entrance to the barn, they were met with the pungent smell of animals. Yeosang and Wooyoung crinkled their noses at the same time. A cow mooed at them as greeting.

"Is that hay?" Wooyoung conversationally asked the cow, referring to the food it was eating, then directed the question at Yeosang.

"Like if I know," Yeosang shrugged. "Probably." He walked over to Wooyoung and pulled out a water bottle from Wooyoung's backpack and took a long drink. It was sweltering outside. And although the sun had descended from its peak a few hours ago, the heat still stung.

Wooyoung was closely inspecting the line of cows cheerfully eating hay and swishing their tails. "I think Hongjoong would enjoy being a cow," he said wisely. "Seems like a chill life. He always complains about stress."

"That one kind of looks like him," Yeosang laughed and pointed at one that did have some resemblance to Hongjoong.

They traversed to another area of the barn and found more animals - pigs, goats, sheep, llamas, geese, bunnies, and chickens. A goat was there to greet them with a loud and piercing bleat. "Jongho, is that you?" Wooyoung said as he smiled at the vocal goat.

"There's Seonghwa," Yeosang said and was quick to point out the sheep he had talked about earlier, resting in a pen.

"Yunho," Wooyoung said and gestured towards a particularly tall llama with a long neck.

"San," Yeosang said, and pointed to a pig pen. One of the pigs was having a blast and running around the pen excitedly. "And Mingi," he continued, gesturing to another pig peacefully sleeping in the corner.

"Yeosang," Wooyoung said, causing Yeosang to turn towards his friend, only to find out that he was being compared to a chicken.

"I'm not a chicken," he said, offended. He raised his eyebrows and pointed to a patch of honking geese near the pigs. "Wooyoung."

Wooyoung only took the geese as a compliment. He grinned like a little kid and honked himself. "Do the chicken dance for me, Yeosang," he bantered.

"Shut up," Yeosang said sweetly. But he had to admit, the chickens were extremely interesting. In his opinion, they were the best animal at the fair. It might have been because he loved to eat chicken, but the chickens he came by as he walked around their pens came in beautiful browns, reds, oranges, and blacks. Some of their eggs even came in different hues. When he walked by one, it pecked its beak towards him and made him smile. So he was in Wooyoung's line of vision, he silently did the chicken dance in front of a light orange variety.

"Amazing," Wooyoung breathed and walked closer to him. He peaked at the orange chicken that Yeosang was nearby. "Aw, this one is cute."

"But he didn't win any prizes," Yeosang said and gestured to the other chickens around them. While some chickens had beautiful multi-colored ribbons that announced they had won in some sort of category, this orange chicken had a small, simple, and drab white ribbon.

"Participation," Wooyoung said, ogling the single ribbon on the chicken's cage. "That's silly. He's a stunning bird. A true specimen of chicken." The orange chicken pecked at the cage in response to Wooyoung's compliment.

"Taken an interest in Mr. Clucks, eh?" A man said, coming from behind them. He wore worn blue jeans, sneakers, and a yellow plaid shirt. He was older, but the little twinkle in his eye that appeared when he smiled suggested he was young at heart. "I'm the owner of him and a few other animals in this exhibition," the man clarified.

"It's too bad he didn't win anything," Wooyoung said, always eager to talk to someone. "He's really quite a nice-looking chicken."

"It really is too bad," the owner nodded. "I send my non-winners to the butcher, unfortunately." He said this casually.

Yeosang and Wooyoung looked at the chicken, Mr. Clucks, and then back at the owner, who gave them a smile.

"The butcher?" Yeosang repeated. He couldn't have meant that. Perhaps it was just a joke. He knew, rationally, chickens had to be killed in order for him to enjoy fried chicken, but now he knew this chicken. He couldn't just die now.

"I know, it's unfortunate," the owner sighed, and Yeosang couldn't argue with him. He gave a smile to the owner and looked back at Mr. Clucks, adamantly pecking the ground, oblivious to his fate.

"I can't believe he'd just drop him like that," Yeosang said to Wooyoung after the owner had gone off to talk to other fair-goers. "This poor chicken will die because he wasn't good enough? Mr. Clucks doesn't deserve that." He looked back at the orange chicken with a saddened expression.

"Nothing we can do about it, though," Wooyoung shrugged while Mr. Clucks pecked at the ground some more. "Unless we were to steal him, but that's impossible. He's in that cage."

Yeosang nodded, unable to keep his eyes off of the chicken. "I really wish we..."

But Yeosang trailed off. On other cages, a small lock kept the door of the cage secure. But on Mr. Cluck's cage, the lock was both unlocked and broken. It would still prevent Mr. Clucks from getting out of the cage, but all Yeosang would need to do would be to slide the lock off of the hook that it was on.

Wooyoung noticed what Yeosang was seeing. "Yeosang, no. Absolutely not."

"But he's going to die," Yeosang pushed, his heart beginning to race. Could they save Mr. Clucks?

"Yeah, just like a lot of chicken!" Wooyoung hissed. "The same chicken that you gouge down about four times a week. And what if we get caught? We're not exactly inconspicuous carrying around a goddamn chicken."

Yeosang pointed to Wooyoung's backpack that was coincidentally chicken-sized.

"Yeosang," Wooyoung groaned, throwing his hands up in the air. "Okay, I guess I don't want him to die either. But he's not going to be happy in my backpack. He'd get stressed being in an unknown and closed space. We'd have a clucking backpack for the rest of our time at the fair."

"Then we steal- no, rescue him when we leave," Yeosang said, nodding at Wooyoung, who looked like he wanted to pass out on the floor out of exasperation. "Come on. This is a perfectly dumb thing that we can do together. We'll laugh about it in a few years."

"Not if the chicken police catches us," Wooyoung said, but his tone was amused rather than scolding. "Fine. But after we lose our minds on a few more rides."

Yeosang's smile was brighter than the blazing sun. "Thank you." Yeosang took one last look at Mr. Clucks in his cage before the two of them exited the animal exhibition.

Wooyoung and Yeosang proceeded to let themselves go wild for the last few hours of the fair. They rode one wooden and rickety rollercoaster in the fair multiple times with the other screaming preteens. They went on it so many times that the ride attendant learned their names, thanks to Wooyoung's loud personality and penchant for never shutting up.

"Well, Wooyoung, Yeosang," said the attendant, a cap that displayed the fair's company logo on his blond hair, "have fun on the ride. Again." He seemed to linger a little too long on Yeosang, but both of the boys were too eager to go on the ride to notice his attention to him.

Wooyoung later dared Yeosang go to on a terrible yet exciting throw up-inducing ride that flipped and turned its riders in the air. Yeosang stood in line with his arms crossed while Wooyoung gleefully stood on the sidelines. But the tables turned when the attendant told Yeosang that a minimum of two people were needed for each seat on the ride, and no one else in the line was riding single. There was no greater walk of shame for Wooyoung as he climbed into the ride's seat next to Yeosang. It was Yeosang's turn to be gleeful. So, the two of them screamed their lungs out as they whipped through the air and the sun smiled down at them from above.

The sun soon disappeared from the horizon and cooled down the fair. There was less light and more people crowding the fairgrounds, giving perfect conditions for the rescue of Mr. Clucks.

Wooyoung and Yeosang darkened the entrance to the chicken exhibition around eight o'clock. Wooyoung, armed with Mr. Cluck's red ride, his backpack, had a satisfied smile. Yeosang, eager to save his friend he had only met a few hours ago, made a beeline for the chicken.

"Mr. Clucks, hello!" He whispered as he slid the broken lock off of the cage while Wooyoung partially blocked him from other's view. There was only one other family with them, a mother and her screaming toddler, so they doubted she would pay attention to their thievery. The owner was also nowhere to be found, and the two of them had assumed he was tending to his other animals. The universe, it seemed, was optimized for thieves and discord this night.

Mr. Clucks clucked with fear when he was picked up by Yeosang from his cage, but all of the other chickens were also clucking. He was inaudible as he was placed carefully into Wooyoung's backpack and then zipped up.

"Oh, he's restless," Wooyoung muttered, now carrying the weight of poultry on his back. "I can feel him pecking my back."

"He's showing his love," Yeosang said and shut Mr. Cluck's now empty cage behind him. "Tomorrow, I'll go out and buy chicken food."

Wooyoung eyed him. "Yeosang, you're keeping him?" He asked, as if there wasn't a chicken in his backpack.

"What else am I supposed to do with him?" He asked incredulously, leading Wooyoung out of the chicken exhibition. It was luckily darker than when they had entered the chicken pens, so the small ruffling of Wooyoung's backpack was hardly noticeable. There was also enough screaming, laughing, and chattering from other fair-goers to deafen Mr. Cluck's clucking.

"Just let him go on the street?" Wooyoung shrugged. "You can't possibly take care of a chicken. Where will you put him?"

"I'm sure Pet Smart will have everything," Yeosang shrugged, weaving around a few of the fair-goers. They were almost at the exit of the fair. Once they were out of the gates, their rescue of Mr. Clucks would be a success.

"How was the fair?" The security guard that stood outside the fair asked, giving a serious smile as he checked to make sure Yeosang and Wooyoung had wrist bands.

"Egg-ceptional," Yeosang said at the same time Wooyoung said "im-peck-able." They then looked at each other with murder in their eyes.

The security guard, however, was not fazed. "Have a nice night," he said, and waved Yeosang, Wooyoung, and Mr. Clucks off.

Now that they were in the parking lot, Mr. Cluck's clucking was more audible. "Mr. Clucks, stop being so clucking- no, fucking loud!" Wooyoung hissed.

"It's fine, there's no one else around us," Yeosang reassured him. He could feel the adrenaline beginning to pick up inside him. They had done it, and Yeosang was so excited to show the rest of their friends Mr. Clucks.

"My backpack is going to smell like chicken for the rest of time," Wooyoung groaned as they reached Yeosang's car. He carefully placed down the backpack as he got into the passenger seat of the car and opened up the backpack. Mr. Clucks clucked as a greeting.

Yeosang peered over to look at their new friend. "Wonderful," he said, starting up the car. "Doesn't it feel good that we saved him?"

"What I'm feeling is itchy scratches on my back from all of his pecking, but sure," Wooyoung said, not taking his eyes off of Mr. Clucks. The orange chicken, now unzipped and a bit more free, seemed happier. Yeosang drove out of the parking lot.

"Get ready for your new home, Mr. Clucks," he said, turning smoothly into the lane that would take him home, "everyone is going to love you."

"What the hell?" Seonghwa said as a greeting when he walked into Yeosang's apartment. It was the next day, and Yeosang had gone out and bought all of the basic necessities for Mr. Clucks - a cage, chicken food, a chicken harness, and assorted clean up supplies. All of it sat in the corner of his apartment, while Yeosang himself was sitting on his couch. Mr. Clucks was perched onto his thighs and pecking aimlessly into the air.

"It's Mr. Clucks," Wooyoung said, leaning on the wall next to him with his arms crossed. "We stole him." He grinned while Seonghwa looked like he wanted to pass out.

Hongjoong entered the room next. He stared at Mr. Clucks for an absurdly long amount of time before saying, "Yeosang, I think your fried chicken is a bit undercooked." Seonghwa snorted.

"They stole him," Seonghwa added.

"From the fair," Wooyoung clarified.

"Why?" Hongjoong asked.

"Why not?" Yeosang said in reply, stroking Mr. Clucks' feathers.

Yunho and San entered Yeosang's apartment at the same time. "A chicken?" San asked, while Yunho sat right down next to Yeosang, admiring Mr. Clucks. Seonghwa and Hongjoong judged Yunho as he smiled and pet Mr. Clucks with Yeosang.

Jongho walked in with Mingi trailing behind him. While Jongho went through all five stages of grief upon seeing Mr. Clucks, Mingi was unfazed by Yeosang's new pet. "A chicken?" He asked. "What's his name?"

"Mr. Clucks," Yeosang grinned, which caused a few of them to look at each other with concern. Yeosang didn't seem to notice.

"Mr. Kang Clucks," Mingi finished.

At that, Yeosang brightened and Mr. Clucks let out a particularly triumphant cluck. "Oh, I love that name!"

"Or KC," San added. The room was oddly silent as Yeosang stroked his chicken, the only noise coming from Mr. Cluck's random clucks.

"Does the landlord know about this?" Hongjoong said finally, breaking the silence.

"He won't ever know," Yeosang said, smiling. "Well, unless he sees me taking it on a walk. But I think I'll be fine."

A pin could have dropped in the room. Seonghwa didn't take his eyes off of the harness, which had a leash, in the corner of the room. "A chicken," Hongjoong said finally, the unspoken spokesperson of the group. "Alright."

"I saved him from being killed," Yeosang felt the need to say. "And," he continued, looking at Wooyoung, "maybe I will end up releasing him or sending him to a good farm. But for now, I'll take care of him." He gave a grin to everyone, and as he stroked Mr. Clucks some more, it was clear that he dearly admired him.

But their smiles turned into held back laughter as Yeosang bent down and began dressing Mr. Clucks into a leashed harness. "I'll take him on his walk now," he said, placing Mr. Clucks down onto the floor wearing his new harness.

"Have a nice walk," a few of them echoed as they watched Yeosang and his domesticated poultry exit the apartment.

"A chicken," Seonghwa echoed now that Yeosang was gone. Jongho was already pulling out his phone and setting himself by the window to record Yeosang walking the chicken like it was a dog.

"I think the chicken is kind of cute," Yunho shrugged. "And it's admirable of him to give a bit of his time and money for the little guy."

"But a chicken," Seonghwa said. "A chicken."

They all grinned at that. But Yeosang was Yeosang, and as he walked outside with his winged and clucking pet, the rest of them felt a wave of respect and love for him.

And that was the sweet part about Yeosang - despite his love for eating chicken, he had a heart of gold and cared for unseen animals. And that allowed all of them to look at him at a new angle that, until now, none of them had previously noticed.

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hurting-fictional-people · 3 years

Text

Ball

CW: burning/branding, noncon/dubcon touching and kissing, mention of past torture, vomit mention (it doesn’t actually happen), implied noncon

Before

Her dress was beautiful. Made of emerald green silk that complemented the red of her hair, a V neck descending to the middle of her breasts, a flowy skirt that lightly touched the ground, a tight bodice. Her hair fell down her back in loose waves, only half of it pulled up and braided with tiny pearls that sparkled when the light hit them. She knew she was stunning. It was hard for anything to feel good at the moment, but being pretty again was almost nice.

“Have I told you that you look dazzling tonight, precious?” Blake whispered, lips touching her ear, hand brushing the small of her back. She held back a whimper.

“We are going to play a little game tonight, Kiara”, he declared, grinning. His expression would be childish if his eyes didn’t gleam with wickedness.

“Wha-what are you talking about?”.

His smile widened as he opened a drawer and pulled out something that looked suspiciously like a fireplace poker, but with a larger tip. She started shivering when he placed its tip among the flames of the hearth and winked at her.

Kiara tried to take a deep and calming breath, but all she really did was bite her lip till she felt copper coating her tongue, hoping it would help her keep her face from frowning.

“Please” she mumbled, her voice so low she doubted he could hear it. But he did. He always did.

“You look pretty when you try not to squirm” was all he said, chuckling softly, pressing his hand against her back. The touch wasn’t especially harsh, yet her breathing hitched and she tried to arch away from him just to stop when she heard him tutting. “Remember our game, sunshine. I would love to meet that sweet brother of yours, but I don’t think you would like our get together as much as I would”.

She scanned the room as discreetly as she could, desperately wishing for someone to see the fear and hurt in her eyes, but the only looks she received were aimed straight at her boobs.

They had just got to the party, but she already felt faint.

“Let’s go greet some of my business partners, shall we?” Blake said gleefully. Kiara tried to focus on not passing out as she let him push her towards a group of men in front of the drinks table.

He was almost jumping up and down when the iron turned red. She was almost vomiting when he showed it to her. The tip of it was shaped like letters. Kiara started begging as soon as she realized what was going to happen.

“Please, please don’t do it. I promise I’ll do anything you want, just- just please don’t”.

Blake didn’t even bother responding as he opened the chain that kept her ankle linked to the wall. She was suddenly yanked from the corner in which she’d been sitting and dragged to the middle of the room. He dropped Kiara right where his center table usually stood, and she understood then why he’d moved it away. She wished she didn’t. She tried to run, but before she could take even a step away, he grabbed her by the waist and pushed her stomach against the ground.

It had been a while since she’d tried to fight him, but looking at the burning iron turning crimson among the flames, she screamed and thrashed, panic making tears fall down her cheeks and turning her movements desperate.

“Stop it, Kiara” Blake bellowed, annoyed. She couldn’t see his face with hers pressed to the ground, but she recognized the tone. He sat on her back, putting all his weight on her till she couldn’t breathe. “Hold still or it’ll be worse”.

“Ple-ease! Blake stop, please, please, p-please”.

“Hold still for me, my precious”.

“Blake!” exclaimed a tall man with blond hair “It’s been too long, my friend”.

“It really has, Andrew”, Blake said, grinning as he shook the man’s hand with the one that’d been pressing against Kiara’s back. She held back a relieved sigh when he took it away.

He proceeded on greeting each one of the men there, commenting on their families or hobbies. She kept her eyes on the floor, wishing to disappear. Unfortunately, neither her stillness nor her wishes kept her from being seen.

“And who is this kitten?” asked the one named Andrew. She only knew it was her he was talking about because suddenly Blake was back at her side and his fingers grazed the bare skin of her back right above where the fabric of the dress ended, right before where the burn started.

“This is Kiara”, Blake said, beaming. “The love of my life”.

She smiled too, hoping it looked real. Knowing it didn’t.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart”, said another one of his friends, one with a long black beard and malice in his eyes.

“Well, I don’t think she is very pleased with you, Blake”, remarked Andrew, narrowing his eyes with amusement.

She went instantly rigid and forced her eyes to wrinkle and her smile to widen. “I’m sorry, I’m just tired. The ball is absolutely lovely” she stated, willing her voice to sound sweet but firm.

“I’ve been keeping her awake a lot these last nights” Blake joked, winking. All of the men laughed, and she let out the breath she'd been holding ever since he tightened his grip on her waist.

Blake had done a lot to her already. Whipped, drowned, kicked, punched, choked, chained, starved. She’d lost count of all the torments she’d faced, but he had never burned her before. So, when he tore the back of her shirt open and pressed the scorching iron to her lower back, there was nothing she could’ve done to prepare herself.

It was a literal hell. There was no thought, no scream, no tears, no nothing in the world. It was only pain. So vast, so deep, everything faded away.

She went limp at some point. Maybe she passed out, but she couldn’t be sure. She couldn’t be sure of anything but the blazing pain. When she came back to herself, her head was on Blake’s lap, and he ran his fingers through her sweaty hair. Her entire body trembled, and she was in so much pain all she could do was cry soundless tears. Kiara didn’t try to pull away or ask what he’d done. Didn’t have the energy to do anything other than weep. Not even sob, for when she did, her body moved, and it burned.

“So precious” Blake purred, fingers tracing the shape of her ear. “You were so strong for me, my little sunshine”.

“Please”, she moaned weakly. Kiara didn’t even know what she was begging for, but it hurt and she needed it to stop, and she hated his voice and his words and his hands touching her.

Blake chuckled. “Please what, precious?”.

“It hurts”.

“I know it does. It will for some time. But it was so worth it. I truly loved your little noises of pain. They were everything” he said as if that should appease her somehow. If anything, it made her cry harder.

“Please, make it stop” she sobbed, wincing when the movement sent a new wave of pain through her body “Please, Blake, make it stop, I can’t, I can’t take it. Please.” her voice was low and hoarse from screaming, and it hurt to even speak, but her back was pure agony and she couldn’t think right.

“Let’s talk about our game, and then I’ll make it stop” he assured. She closed her eyes and nodded, even though she knew whatever game it was, she was probably better off with the burn.

There were at least three hundred guests at the ball, scattered around the penthouse. People flirted and laughed, chatted, and joked. Kiara used to adore parties. She loved to dress up, feel like a goddess, and spend an entire night drinking and dancing. She would have loved that ball if it weren’t for her captor by her side and the dizziness making her vision blur.

She had to stay awake. Had to resist the burning pain that spread from her back to her entire body. Kiara had never been a good actress, but fear was as good a fuel as any. The smile she glued on her lips was kind and dumb enough to keep most people away, the wrinkles she forced her eyes to form hid the pain behind them and added up to the pleasant expression. Her back was as straight as a stick, but that had nothing to do with the act.

“Drink up” Blake ordered, extending a martini glass to her. There was nothing she could do other than nod and take the glass, taking a small sip hoping it would be enough to please him. The pain only increased with each passing minute and she worried she might vomit at any time.

His dark eyebrows shot up, the warning there so clear she shivered and took a longer sip. Blake continued to stare, though, so she gritted her teeth and drained it. He smirked.

“Good girl” he praised, then brushed his hand against her burnt back and took her to another group of people. She breathed in deeply and smiled through teary eyes as she was introduced to a bunch of new people. One lady came in for a hug, and she clenched her teeth so tightly to avoid screaming she was sure the woman heard it.

“Tonight I’m throwing a ball”, Blake said, playing with a strand of her hair. “You are going to be my date”.

“You burned me” she hissed furiously “Why would I ever go to a ball with you?”.

“It’s cute how you can’t even talk above a whisper and still has the nerve to defy me” he sighed playfully. She hated that she knew his moods just by hearing him sigh, but she did. “Now, back to what I was saying. You are going to be my date, and I’ll introduce you to all of my friends as my gorgeous, loving girlfriend”.

Kiara would have laughed, weren’t it for how bad she was hurting and how feeble she felt. Still splayed on her stomach on the ground, limbs heavy and shaky, she could only snort to show her exasperation.

“You see, I found a charming little house on a really cozy street last night. I even took a picture of it, let me show you”. She opened her eyes to find a cell phone in front of her face, and in it a picture of a two-story house made of red bricks, with plants by the windows and a low white fence in front of it. Dread filled her as she stared at the picture, at the house she knew all too well. “It’s really pretty, don’t you think? I thought about buying it, but the owner might not want to sell it. Maybe I should just kill him and take the house”.

“Please”, she choked out, “please don’t hurt him”.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, she rolled to her side so she could look him in the eye. A cry escaped her lips when her back shifted, and a tear slipped from her eyes, but she only stopped when she could see his face. Her head was still on his lap, but pride was something she hadn’t known for a while now.

“Play the sweet obedient girlfriend at my ball and your brother will be left untouched. Fail, and I’ll decide if I shall bring him here to make you watch as I kill him or if I’ll force you to do it yourself”.

“I’ll do anything. Just, just please leave him alone” she promised, “I’ll go to your ball, pretend to b-be your girlfriend, as long as you don’t come near him”.

“We have a deal, then”, Blake said with a smirk. His hand found hers and brought it to his lips. He placed a chaste kiss on her palm and then started playing with her fingertips. “Do anything and everything I tell you to, and I’ll keep my distance”.

Kiara nodded, and when he helped her to stand up, she leaned into him, letting Blake support her weight while he rubbed something soothing on her back with far more force than needed. She shrieked against his shoulder and clutched his shirt while he tended to her burn, thinking of her brother the whole time, promising herself she would not let Blake near him. She would die before she let him touch Arthur.

“You seem kinda pale, love”, said an old lady, squeezing Kiara's hand, “do you need to go outside for a bit?”.

One look from Blake and she knew what she had to answer. “Thank you, but I really am okay. I think I overdid it on the makeup. It’s my first ball, you see? I wanted to look nice”.

“Oh, I get it” she giggled, patting Kiara’s shoulder. Even that sent a twinge of pain down her body. She smiled rigidly. “Especially with such a handsome boyfriend, eh? Gotta always look pretty for your man”. She grimaced internally but barely registered what the woman was saying as she swayed slightly.

Kiara really needed to sit down. She could feel the bandage stuck to the blazing skin of her back, the burn at the precise spot for the dress to cover it perfectly and for Blake to casually touch it at any time just to watch her trying to conceal a gasp or to remind her of what was at stake if she did as much as annoy him. It was getting harder to stand upright, smile, and talk as if there was nothing wrong. She felt her skin clammy and her legs trembling. If she didn’t sit in the next few minutes, she might actually pass out right there.

She took one step towards Blake, but even that was too much, especially with the high heels he’d made her wear. She stumbled and would’ve fallen down if he hadn’t moved so fast, catching her before anyone noticed what had almost happened.

“I need to sit”, she breathed, letting him support her weight. He held her by the waist, and his entire arm pressed on the burn. Kiara bit her already bruised lip and buried her face against his shoulder to muffle a pained whine. “I’m feeling faint”.

“People are looking at us” he crooned, low enough that only Kiara could hear it “I guess you just don’t love your brother as much as I thought, since you are doing such a poor job as my girlfriend”.

She closed her eyes and counted ten seconds to collect herself, hugging Blake as if he was someone she didn’t feel disgusted by. When she moved away, everyone was staring at them.

Kiara cleared her throat and straightened up. She wrapped her arms around his neck, forcing herself not to flinch as he held her tighter.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m just so nervous”, she said, quietly enough for it to sound like she was addressing only him, but high enough for everyone close by to overhear. She looked up through her lashes and smiled timidly, then moved closer and kissed his lips. Blake stiffened for a moment before opening his mouth and kissing her passionately. Kiara had intended for it to be just a brush of lips, but she couldn’t back away now in front of everyone. He tightened his grip on her back and she moaned softly against his mouth, the sound swallowed by him before anyone else could hear it. When he finally let her go, she couldn’t bring herself to smile anymore, so she looked away from him, to the crowd watching them shamelessly. She gave them an embarrassed nod and started towards the tables.

Blake caught her hand a moment later and changed the route to the gambling area. Kiara shuddered but didn’t complain. As long as she could sit, she would do anything.

“Nicely played, sunshine” he mouthed into her ear. She pretended not to hear it.

Blake sat down at a poker table and pulled her onto his lap, forcing her back to press against his stomach. She bit back a cry and tried to think of her brother as she was introduced to more of Blake’s friends.

He started playing, and she pretended to not be in pain, or scared, or despondent. She pretended she wasn’t sitting on the lap of her captor, her torturer, the man who had taken so much from her. Who had taken everything from her.

As he went on chatting, gambling, and laughing, she pretended there wasn’t a burn crossing her lower back with his name on it.

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rosaliepostsstuff · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1 - Of quidditch, detentions and birthdays

series masterlist

tag list for this series: @weasleysbees all George fics: @hufflepuff5972

if you’d like to be added, send a DM or an ask

warnings: swearing, mentions of wounds, slight mention of food, alcohol drinking

word count: 1823

a/n: hope it’s a nice opening that will keep you interested and give you the feel of the whole series; we couldn’t have a fic taking place during ootp without a classic detention with umbridge sorry

I’d love to know what you think about it!

—————①—————

Quidditch. You were decent on a broomstick, but the catching and throwing part has never been your strong suit. The summer sun was blazing hot, not helping you focus on the game. Suddenly Ron took a shot at one of the makeshift posts, the quaffle was speeding in your direction and you panicked slightly – lost your balance on the broomstick and dangled upside down. As you grasped the stick for dear life, the ball hit you square in the forehead, knocking you out.

“Ha-ha-ha,” you mocked George who was wheezing with laughter beside you. “That was years ago. Besides, it’s called the sloth-grip roll, you’re just not on that level yet” “No-no it was brilliant – you saved the game, you just weren’t there to see it anymore,” he tried to regain his composure.

You sighed and shook your head with a small smile. He gave you a wide grin and draped his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to his side.

You were watching the try-outs together, not really paying attention until it was Ron’s turn. In the distance, you could see Fred juggling beaters’ bats behind Angelina’s back. “D’you think he’ll get in?” you asked curiously. He shrugged and made one of his faces, so you jabbed him on the side with a finger.

“Ron’s good, isn’t he? He should get in…” you worried. “Yeah, yeah, he’s alright. You’ve seen all those other slacks, he’s got a good chance,” he reassured you.

You crossed your arms on your chest and rested your head on his side. “I hope so. It means a lot to him.”

—————①—————

“Oh but that is absolutely ridiculous!” you exasperated, “It’s fucking torture..!” you pointed at Harry’s hand.

You had been chatting with Hermione, Ron and Harry in the courtyard, late afternoon, and noticed the wound on his hand, then made them explain everything in detail. It made you furious.

“First they try to make us dumb, then re-shape us - using violence?!” you whisper-yelled, then noticed three’s terrified expressions.

“Eh hem” you heard behind your back. “Oh for fucks sake…” you mouthed silently and slouched your shoulders, sighing in defeat. “Miss Y/L/N, is it?” She knew your name well, although up until this point you tried not to step out of line, from the very first lesson with Umbridge you showed your dissatisfaction with the new regime rules. Much to Fred and George’s amusement as you usually tried to avoid conflict whenever possible.

With a stoic expression, you turned on your heel to face her. “Yes, professor?” “You have to agree this kind of language does not suit a young witch like yourself. It is in your best interest that we work on your attitude a bit as well. I’ll see you in my office after dinner, dear,” she finished with that sickening smile and walked off.

Defeated, you approached George and Fred at the table and sat down in silence. They glanced at you curiously. “Why the long face, sweet cheeks?” Fred asked, making you snicker and a small smile broke out on your face. “I-“ you elongated, “had an encounter with Umbridge.” “Oof..” grimaced George. “Yikes, you looked like you were about to maul her last class. Too bad I wasn’t there to see it this time around, what’d you do?” Fred propped his chin on his palm, abandoning the food. “She appeared behind my back in the middle of my tirade about her,” another set of oofs and acknowledging nods, “a strong-worded one…” “Oh this is brilliant, why weren’t we there…” Fred expressed with amusement.

George found the situation quite funny as well but was less expressive about it because he felt bad for you just a bit more than his twin. “I-I... I’m sure you can imagine,” you tried to drop the topic, getting busy with the plate in front of you. They didn’t know about her method of discipline and you weren’t keen on letting them know. “Tsk- whatever, don’t tell your best friends,” he pouted, then brought the conversation to their newest developments with the Skiving Snackboxes.

‘I will respect my superiors’ was written out underneath a bandage on your left hand. You’ve been successfully hiding it for almost a week, telling George you cut yourself during potions.

You felt a sharp pain and winced as he grabbed your hand to speed you up on your way to hang out by the lake. “Oh, sorry, Cherry!” he apologized immediately and stroked your hand delicately with concern, “I forgot…” You smiled at him reassuringly, “It’s alright.” “Does it still hurt so much..?” he frowned slightly, confused, “It should’ve started healing by now…”

It would’ve if you hadn’t spent every evening in the toad’s office.

You shrugged dismissively and started walking again, George following. “I don’t think that’s good, Y/N. Maybe you should go to Pomfrey..?” “Noo, it’s fine, I’m sure it’ll heal in no time,” – just a couple more days of detention, you thought. “Well, let me see it, at least,” he said softly and you felt faint. Not only would he find out about the black quill and freak out, but you also hid it from him, deliberately, lied even.

“Y/N” he repeated in a more serious tone. “George, it’s fine, really” you still tried to shrug it off, knowing well it was a lost cause. He sensed something was off. He stopped walking, expecting you to do the same. When you looked at him, he reached out his hand for you to show him the bandage and you obliged.

You held your breath as he unwrapped the dressing. You only dared to look up at him after a few long seconds of silence.

His eyes were still trained on the words, jaw clenched and he started caressing the skin around the wound with his thumb.

He then looked at you and you spoke without words.

You were sorry for not telling him.

He was disappointed but concerned about you.

You wanted to reassure him you were holding up okay.

And he was furious with Umbridge.

“Ferula,” he cast and put his wand away as your hand got wrapped up in clean bandages.

“Please, don’t do anything stupid now…” you worried, “I don’t need revenge.” He smirked a bit, but remained rather serious, “You’ve known me for too long…”

He let go of your hand and resumed walking, putting his hands in his pockets. “I mean it, Georgie. It will have changed nothing and it’s no good if she just makes you write those stupid lines too.” You sighed, “Promise me you’ll be more careful around her. And Fred too.” “Brave of you to assume I can control him,” he snickered, making you smile. “but I can try if that’ll make you happy.” “Thank you,” you said with a big grin, wrapping your arm around his. “Speeaaking of making you happy,” he paused for emphasis, looking up into the sky, “your birthday’s coming up. You didn’t make any plans, did you?” “Mmm, depends what you’re offering.”

—————①—————

Your birthday was in the middle of the week this year, so you planned to have a proper party over the weekend. And the evening of the actual birthday, George booked for himself.

It was late, you took a shower and as per instructions – changed into comfy PJs. Excited, you walked down the steps and into the common room.

There were only a few last stragglers left in there, buried in rolls of parchment, probably writing last-minute essays.

No George in sight.

Next to the couch in front of the fire, you saw blankets and pillows spread out, and some snacks on the coffee table. Walking up closer you noticed a little note in George’s hand-writing:

Do not touch or you’ll regret it

You chuckled under your breath and the round door opened, revealing George with two mugs in hands. He was also wearing some pyjama pants and a comfy jumper.

“Heeey!” he greeted with a wide grin. “Good evening” you replied with a smile and a little nod. “That all you?” you gestured at the table as he set down the mugs. “Unless you want to count Fred’s snickering as help,” he complained sitting down and you did the same.

“Oooh, hot chocolate..!” you exclaimed leaning over the mug in front of you.

George reached behind him and revealed a bottle of firewhisky and you chuckled. “For a bit of kick.” He opened the bottle, then hovered it over your mug and glanced at you, asking for permission and you nodded.

He poured a little bit into both mugs.

“Happy seventeen!” he toasted and you clinked delicately, not to spill the hot liquid, then gave it a taste, letting its warmth pour through your bodies.

“How was your day, Cherry?” he asked, getting comfy on the pillows and wrapping both his hands around the warm mug.

You didn’t see him much that day, with the exception of meals, as you took many more N.E.W.T. classes than him.

“Alright. Went by quickly. Snape wished me a happy birthday.” “Oooh” “Yeah, I don’t know if he was being sarcastic or not. Knowing him, he could be, even with birthday wishes… how about you?” you took another sip of the hot chocolate. “Mmm... We might be getting closer to figuring out how to stop the nosebleeds,” he opened a box of biscuits, “but we need to read up on it a bit more before testing it.”

“That’s not the end of my surprises,” he said after you finished the conversation about nosebleed nougats, standing up for a moment to retrieve a small packaging he then presented to you with a giddy smile. You placed it in your lap and let your hands ghost over the ribbon, “I was about to say you didn’t have to, but then I remembered you’re a rich business owner now.” you teased him, earning a small laugh. He bit his lip and waited for you to continue.

It was a book, the newest tome of a series you and George would geek out about together. It had just come out.

Screeching out of joy you tackled him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You managed to get it already?!” you questioned. “Yup. Blood, sweat and tears it cost me, but I’ve got it,” he said proudly. “Thank you, Georgie” you gave him one last squeeze and pulled away to admire the book once more. “You’re welcome, love. D’you wanna start reading it tonight?” he asked with clear excitement in his voice. You nodded and opened the book on the first page right away.

You stayed up late that night, taking turns in reading out loud for as long as you were able to fight off the tiredness. Eventually, it was just the two of you, immersed in your favourite fantasy adventure, the soft crackling of the fire serving as a background.

You couldn’t have asked for a better seventeenth birthday.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #hp imagine

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one-boring-person · 3 years

Note

Hii, I don't know if I asked this already but can i request a poly lost boys x reader x . So they think she cheated on them (But she didn't) and so they cheat on her then find out that she didnt cheat on them. How would they feel?

Thank you for the request! I hope you like it!😊💛

How Dare You?!

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: cheating, bad language

Masterlist

Part Two

Low giggles surround the boys as they move down the Boardwalk, smirks adorning the eight present faces, four of them more devious than the others. As always, the crowd parts for them, though a few odd looks are thrown their way as the regulars of the area take note of the fact that there are eight of them, rather than the usual five. Out of them all, one looks slightly uneasy, the brunette's generally stoic exterior slipping a little as the girl on his arm presses a kiss to his neck.

"I really don't think this is your best idea, David." Dwayne remarks, leaning a little out of the girl's reach, giving her an apologetic smile as she pouts.

The platinum blonde only scoffs, turning minutely to look back at his friend.

"What makes you say that?" His tone is prideful, as if his plan is foolproof and sure to work out.

"This feels too wrong…"

"Aw, come on, man! You can't go on about "right and wrong", that's just hypocritical." Marko chips in, lifting an eyebrow knowingly.

Dwayne scowls at him and closes his mouth, rigidly allowing the girl to lean into him, plastering herself to his lithe body with enthusiasm.

"So, girls, you wanna come back to ours? We promise you you'll have a great time." David encourages the four girls, practically purring the words into the hair of the blonde at his side.

"Hm, I don't know. How do we know you're not just gonna abduct us?" The blonde challenges, seductively, shooting a sultry smile at the girls around her.

"Would that be so bad?" David responds, smirking at her.

The four girls giggle and continue to tease, but eventually they agree to join the boys, following them to their bikes, which are at their usual place. Climbing on, the vampires aid their new friends onto their respective motorcycles, the sensation of another person's arms odd to them after so long of it being one specific person. Adjusting themselves, they rev their engines, before taking off into the night, the girls screaming in dizzy ecstasy as they cling on.

By the time they reach the Bluff, it's already past midnight, the moon having long since passed its apex, the cliff top now only really lit up by the flashing lighthouse, a little way away. Drawing the bikes to a halt, the boys are quick to help the girls off, each of them making sure to keep some form of physical contact on them as they go. David leads the way to the rickety walkway, allowing his hand to rest at the small of the blonde's back as he helps her down the slick stairs, his smirk fixed in place on his face as he watches the girl follow him. Dwayne comes next, simply holding the girl's hand as they descend into the decrepit hotel, his partner now seeming much less excited as she realises she's not getting anywhere near as much attention as the other three. Marko is third to follow, wrapping his arm around his girl's waist as he goes, pulling her tightly into his body, smirking mischievously as he rubs her side. Last is Paul, who has scooped his new friend up into his arms, holding her tightly as they walk down the stairs, grinning as she giggles, the blonde vampire finding this highly amusing, though a small part of him feels a little off.

Upon entering, the four vampires become aware of the presence of a ninth person.

(Y/n).

A ripple of surprise goes through them all. None of them had registered her own motorbike up on the cliff, and so had no idea that she'd be present tonight, Dwayne instantly looking as if he would rather leave. David stops momentarily, before continuing on confidently, blue eyes blazing triumphantly as they roam the area inside in search of their girlfriend. The two spot each other very easily, (Y/n)'s brow furrowing at the sight of the four vampires with their new companions.

"What...what's going on?" She asks after a moment of tense silence.

"Yeah, what's going on, David?" The blonde girl asks, lifting an eyebrow critically as she looks the other girl up and down, situating herself closer to the platinum blonde.

"Oh, we just thought we'd even up the playing field a bit. Surely that's alright with you, (Y/n)? Considering you created the odds in the first place." David practically sneers at her, going to sit down with his girl on his wheelchair, staring at her over the other's shoulder.

"Even up the playing field? What the hell are you talking about?" (Y/n) splutters, frowning in confusion and jealousy as she watches her boyfriend start caressing the other girl's side.

"You want some clarification? I'd suggest starting with your new boyfriend." David continues, gesturing to the other boys to sit down, almost relishing the look of hurt and confusion clouding (Y/n)'s face.

"My new boyfriend?" Is all she can say, clearly trying to remember what he's talking about.

"Oh, don't play dumb with us, kitten. We're not blind, despite what you may think." He bites out, emphasising the pet name cruelly.

"I never said you were…?"

"So who's that guy you've been spending a lot of time with, hmm?" Paul cuts in, fixing (Y/n) with a hard stare.

"Guy? What guy- oh." She peters off, her eyes rolling back into her head in exasperation.

"Yeah, him. Can't play that one off, can you?" Marko taunts, baring his teeth in a grim smirk of triumph.

"There's nothing to play off." She says matter-of-factly, turning to look at him, "Because he's my brother."

There's a moment of tense silence, no one moving a muscle, until David suddenly throws his head back and roars with laughter, (Y/n) looking over to him in angry confusion.

"You really can't expect us to believe that! Jeez, I thought you were intelligent!" He snickers, wiping fake tears from his eyes.

"He is! And I can't believe you didn't recognise him, considering you've met him! Twice!" (Y/n) snaps at him, her fury evident now in her tone, "What the hell is wrong with you guys? You really thought I'd cheat on you? Are you insane?"

No one says a word, the four vampires now quickly realising their mistake, slight groans of dread escaping them.

"I can't believe you'd actually think that! How dare you say I'd be unfaithful?! After all the time we've spent together!" She shakes her head, kneading her temples with her fingers as she visibly seems to fight back tears, "And you moved on fast enough, didn't you. Just couldn't wait to get rid of your "unfaithful" girlfriend, hm? Well guess what; you've achieved your goal!"

Without another word, she storms out, stifling sobs as she goes, the four vampires easily able to pick up the sound of her motorcycle driving off, a minute later.

The following silence doesn't last long, the blonde in David's lap quickly standing to face him. Glaring, she slaps him, hard, across the face.

"You never told us you had a girlfriend." Is all she says, before stalking out of the cave.

Quickly, the other three follow, leaving the four vampires alone to think over what they've done, none of them quite willing to face the severity of their actions. After a moment, Paul breaks the quiet, his voice laced with despair.

"What have we done?!"

"We've ruined everything." Marko murmurs, biting his thumb so hard it almost bleeds.

Abruptly, Dwayne stands up, a furious scowl on his face.

"And all because you were too proud to just ask her about it." He growls at David, body tense, "Thanks a lot."

David doesn't reply, only dropping his head in his hands, sighing hopelessly as he takes the full brunt of what Dwayne has to say. Eventually, he manages to say something.

"We need to get her back. I need to make it up to her."

"Too right you do." Dwayne scoffs, before leaving the room.

"Man, we really fucked up." Paul mumbles, wringing his hands.

"Yeah, I did." David mutters to himself.

#the lost boys #joel schumacher #vampire #david(thelostboys)#kiefer sutherland #paul(the lost boys)#dwayne(the lost boys)#santa carla #marko(the lost boys)#star(the lost boys)

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meant-to-be-a-hero · 3 years

Text

Ranger Rankings - Power Rangers Beast Morphers

Genuinely surprised by how much I enjoyed this tbh.

Premise - 4

One part RPM, one part Lightspeed Rescue. I kind of like that they acknowledge the Morphin' Grid properly rather than just casting vague aspersions as to its existence.

The whole Morph-X thing works really well to drive the season forward and remains relevant throughout both seasons, and it gives Grid Battleforce a reason to exist outside of just fighting Evox.

I thought they might start playing with virtual reality a bit when they had the whole Avatars and Cyber Dimension stuff, but I'm kind of glad they didn't.

Character Dynamics - 3.5

Devon and Ravi felt a little flat at times. Their sole characteristics were 'video games' and 'art', outside of their relationships with the other characters. That'd be fine if it was just one season, but I didn't really feel like either of them changed too much over the course of the show, especially Devon when he's the Red Ranger.

Zoey and Nate were much better - Nate especially felt like he had a journey to go on, and he got there by the end of the season. I enjoyed that the pair of them got to get together midway through rather than at the end, so we could kind of explore them a bit more as the season progressed.

The supporting cast were also surprisingly good. Blaze and Roxy (both real and evil) were fun little foils, and the parents having an active presence for most of the show was nice since they had roles that meant they could keep popping up without needing to be forced into the plot.

I also kind of loved the Beast Bots. I thought they'd be a bit superfluous, or draw time away from the other characters, but they were there pretty much exactly as often as they were needed.

And I will not hear a bad word about Ben & Betty. They're dumb, but they mean well, and they're very funny without crossing the line into annoying or arrogant. A definite breath of fresh air after Monty and Victor last season.

Sixth Ranger Arc - 4

Steel! I love Steel. He could have easily just have existed to forward Nate's plots, but he had his own stories too, and something to strive for throughout the seasons. Him learning to be more human and then actually getting to be human is the perfect culmination, especially after his heroic sacrifice.

Plus he's a giant goofball. We love a giant goofball. "My butt is metal!"

Plot Development - 4

Were most of Evox's plans the same? Yes. But they usually had a point to them outside of the usual 'acquire Morph-X, ???, profit' angle.

There were enough subplots running through the seasons to keep everything moving. The Cybergate arc, and the data chips stuff in the first season, then the Ryjack stuff in the second one, kept everything from being too samey. I did find myself switching off during the Megazord fights, but then I've just watched 27 seasons of these so I think that's more on me than the show itself.

I also very much enjoyed how much they leaned into Ranger history; I don't think, outside of Megaforce where that was sort of the point, that any other season has used past Ranger continuity so well and so consistently. Doctor K showing up not once but twice was wonderful, and the Venjix reveal was super clever (even if I knew it was coming).

Villains - 4

Evox in the first season is great fun. I love that giant snake design, it really works well for me, and he loses a little bit in the second season after he becomes a robot full time. His mini arc pretending to be the Mayor was fun, but it felt like it ended a bit quick.

Scrozzle, stupid name aside, was pretty good too. I liked the banter with the other minions. There's something about 'put upon evil genius' that works for me.

Both sets of Roxy and Blaze were fun, probably moreso in the second season where the stakes felt a little higher.

And I love that they keep bringing back Sledge and Poisandra; they know that they're fun, we know that they're fun, so they just give us what we want.

Team-Up - 5

Yes, another 5, leave me alone. Seeing the Dino Charge Rangers again was great, and the plot they came up with to get everyone together built up nicely rather than just appearing out of nowhere for the crossover.

I also found the villain clip-show episode in the middle oddly fun, since it wasn't just a clip-show for the season I'd literally just watched.

It's a shame they weren't able to get any more of the Dino Rangers back; just having Jason there, while nice, felt a little weak.

But that triple Megazord fight at the end? Perfect.

Overall - 4.08

Hottest Ranger - Nate's the cutest, but Ravi and his arms win this one.

Notable Episodes:

The Cybergate Opens - The end of the first big arc of the series, and the arrival of the Gold and Silver Rangers.

Finders Keepers/Making Bad/Grid Connection - Dino Rangers, unite!

The Silva Switch - Body swap! Singing! Yesss!

Crunch Time/Source Code/Evox Unleashed - A big, high stakes finale with some excellent reveals and a guest star I'm always happy to see.

#Ranger Rankings #Power Rangers Beast Morphers

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pixelated-pogues · 4 years

Note

being a pogue that Rafe is just meeting that just completely takes his breath away and makes him want to stop the Pogue vs Kook rivalry so he stops getting into fights with everyone 🥴

Oof okay soo...this would be a wild ride. ------------------------------------------------------ Rafe never wanted to admit it, but he’s always had somewhat of an attraction to girls from the cut.

He’s always ignored it, hooking up with girls from Figure Eight and making digs at girls from the cut whenever the boys were around. He’s always been good at hiding the fact that he found the carelessness of the Pogue girls enticing, that is until he met you. ------------------------------------ The first time Rafe saw you, you were walking across the golf course with a heap of groceries in your hands. You were clearly struggling to juggle everything as you sauntered across the grass, seemingly unaware of where you were going. He watched as one of the many bags you were holding slipped from your grasp; its contents spilling onto the grass. His lips curled into an amused smile when he saw the rest of the bags go tumbling down with it; followed by a string of curse words falling from your lips.

“Hey, I’ll meet you guys at the next hole,” Rafe told the boys, unsure of what came over him as he hiked over to you. He’s never really been the type to go out of his way to help someone he didn’t know, so he wasn’t sure why you were different. “Let me help you with that.” He crouched down next to you, swiftly collecting discarded groceries and dropping them into the bags laying between you guys.

“Thanks, I’m such a klutz,” you huffed, pushing your hair behind your ear with a sigh. That was the first time Rafe actually looked at you. His breath caught in his throat, the can of green beans in his hand falling back to the ground clumsily, when his eyes met yours. He felt his mouth go dry, cheeks flaring with a deep blush, as he stuttered to say something.

“Oh, um, yeah. No problem,” he coughed, tearing his gaze away from yours to continue dropping groceries into the bags. You couldn’t help but stare at the boy in confusion, his current attitude highly contrasting to everything you’d heard about him since you arrived on the island a few weeks prior.

You shook your head, focusing on getting everything situated again before standing up, pulling a few bags back into your arms.

“Thanks, again, for the help,” you smiled reaching down to pick up another bag; Rafe’s eyes following your every move. “I’m new to the job and am still getting used to carrying ten bags at once.”

“Of course! If it helps at all, you definitely look like a natural. The groceries fell pretty gracefully,” he was surprised at how easily the words rolled off of his tongue. What the hell am I doing? He thought to himself, trying not to cringe in embarrassment.

“That makes me feel a lot better,” you laughed, sarcasm casually lacing your voice as you struggled to reach for another bag without dropping anything.

“I’ll help you carry these,” he blurted picking up the rest of the bags, taking you both by surprise. “I think you may get the job done faster if you don’t have to stop to pick up groceries every few minutes.”

“You’re sure your friends won’t mind? They’ve been staring since you walked over here,” you told him, gesturing to Topper and Kelce who were, in fact, staring.

“They’ll get over it,” he insisted, a lazy smile forming on his face as you nodded, leading the way to the house the groceries were supposed to be delivered. -------------------------------------- Rafe couldn’t stop thinking about you after that.

In the short time that it took to deliver the groceries, he’d learned that you’d moved from the mainland a few weeks ago and live on the cut with your family.

He also learned your name, and couldn’t stop it from running through his head at a constant rate. -------------------------------------- The second time Rafe saw you was at a kegger on the beach. You were standing with Kiara and Pope, a wide smile etched on your face as the three of you chatted. He felt his heartrate quicken at the sight of you, the effortless confidence you held staning there only made his attraction to you grow.

“Rafe,” Topper called, pulling the older boy away from his thoughts.

“Hm,” he responded, shifting his attention away from you.

“We’re going to go grab drinks. You coming,” Topper questioned, gesturing toward the short line by the keg. Rafe only nodded in response, glancing back at you once more before following his friends.

He could hardly stand being there, knowing that you were there as well. All he wanted to do was talk to you, but that didn’t seem like an option. Sure, everyone mingles with everyone at these parties, but the silent tension between the kooks and the pogues always loomed over his head, especially now. He didn’t feel like causing trouble with you so close by.

“Hey, it’s Rafe right,” a voice asked, pulling him from his thoughts. He tore his gaze from its trance on the fire, following the voice to your figure, moving to sit next to him on the tree stump. “The guy that helped me deliever groceries.”

“Yeah,” he smiled, ignoring the way his hands started sweating due to how close you were to him. “And you’re Y/n, right?” It felt silly asking you that when you’re all he could think about since he’d first met you.

“Yeah,” you hummed, taking a swig from the cup in your hands. “I’m a little surprised to see you here. I heard that you’re too good to come to the poor side of the island.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, kicking at the sand with his feet as he contemplated what to say. You weren’t exactly wrong; he usually steered clear of the cut unless it was absolutely necessary but he immediately agrred to come when Topper mentioned going to the kegger together that night.

“While I do have a reputation to uphold, I thought I’d let it slide tonight,” he shrugged. “Besides, I thought that I may run into a friend, so it seemed worth it.” Rafe casually bumped his shoulder against yours, faltering when your lip curved into a bright grin. ----------------------------------- The third time Rafe saw you was completely different than the lighthearted interactions you guys had had previously.

JJ’s chest was pressed up against Rafe’s, nostrils flared and eyes blazing as he egged the kook on; practically begging Rafe to throw the first punch. Rafe tried controlling himself and kept his fists clenched at his sides.

“I already told you that I didn’t have anything to do with that JJ,” he growled, patience wearing thin as JJ shot him another glare.

“You really expect me to believe that? You’ve been screwing with us for years, you think I’d be dumb enough to believe that someone else did it,” JJ shot back, his finger pressing into Rafe’s chest threateningly.

“I don’t care if you believe me or not. I wasn’t a part of it this time,” Rafe quipped, choosing to step away from JJ. You stood by John B, biting your lips in anticipation as you waited for the next move. You felt relieved when Rafe’s gaze met your own, softening, before he turned to walk away.

“You’ll never be anything more than a dirty kook, just like your father,” JJ spat, and, in an instant, Rafe’s calm demeanor completely dimished as he lunged for JJ; his fist colliding with the blond’s face forcefully taking both of them to the ground.

“Shit,” John B mumbled, upon seeing the situation grow out of hand quickly. He stepped forward, trying to pull the boys apart at the sight of Rafe’s fists colliding with JJ’s face harshly.

“Rafe, stop,” you begged, getting his attention. You breathed a sigh of relief when he shifted to remove himself from JJ but flinched when JJ’s fist smacked against his face. Right as Rafe went to retaliate, John B pulled his body off of JJ’s; quickly moving to get in between the boys.

“That’s enough,” he stated seriously, shooting both of the boys a glare. He turned to Rafe, who was breathing heavily and wiping a smear of blood from his busted lip. “Go home.”

Rafe nodded, not giving any of you a second glance before retreating to his bike. Your eyes followed him as he sped off; wanting to follow him but knowing that you needed to stay. ------------------------------------ The fourth time he saw you was a few hours after the third. You’d come knocking on the front door of the Cameron residence; asking if he was around. He’d nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard your voice echoing down the hall; heart thumping wilding in his chest at the sight of you with Rose, shooting her a soft “thank you” before making your way into his room; shooting him a shy smile.

“I’m really sorry about JJ,” you apologized, flopping into the chair by Rafe’s desk; sheepishly playing with your fingers. Rafe watches you, still in shock that you’d come to check on him after what had happened.

“It’s fine, I’m sure that I had it coming,” he dismissed with a sigh, collapsing on his bed. “Normally I’d jump at the opportunity to pummel a pogue,” he pasued, glancing at you briefly before continuing, “but I’m kind of over the rivalry if I’m being honest.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at his confession, unsure if you heard him right. “What changed? All anyone has talked about since I’ve been here is the Pogues being agains the kooks.”

Rafe sat up abruptly, staring at you for a moment before focusing his attention on his hands. “I don’t know,” he shrugged, not meeting your eyes as he spoke. “I guess my priorities changed. Maybe the pogues aren’t so bad.” He tried to seem nonchalant as his gaze hesitantly met yours.

“Oh really,” you remarked, an amused smirk making its way onto your face. “And what makes you think that?” Rafe watched you carefully make your way over to him, a newfound confidence taking over as you sauntered over to him.

“There may have been a certain Pogue that swayed my opinion a little,” he admitted, trying not to smile at the cocky look on your face.

“Is that so,” you asked, taking a seat next to him.

“Yeah, I mean, have you seen John B,” he emphasized John B’s name dramatically, giggling when you swatted his chest playfully.

“John B, are you kidding me?” you laughed incredulously, rolling your eyes. -------------------------------------- From that point on, things between Rafe and the rest of the Pogues slowly started calming down. They were, by no means, friends but the constant fighting died down considerably with your convincing.

Your relationship with Rafe budded quickly once the bad blood between your friends started dying down. They definitely weren’t please in your choice of a boyfriend, but you couldn’t really care less what they thought; especially once they started warming up to the fact that they no longer had to worry about Rafe or the rest of the Kooks bothering them as regularly anymore. ------------------------------------- This ended up being A LOT longer than I originally anticipated.

It’s also probably a bit of a mess because it’s 6:30 in the morning and I haven’t gone to bed yet, but that’s okay.

I hope you like it nonetheless!

#outer banks #obx #rafe cameron #outer banks imagine #outer banks imagines #obx imagines #obx blurbs #outer banks blurbs #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader #jj maybank #john b #kie #pope #its 6 am and i havent slept #send help im going to be dead today

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shoezuki · 3 years

Text

This is a post on the cheating accusations around dream mostly surrounding his response video.

If you don’t want to see this or any of these posts then blacklist the tag #discourse

SO I’ve been doing a lot of digging into what dream has said in his response to Geosquare’s original video and report, which was compiled and conducted by the Minecraft Java mods on speedrun.com.

I won’t talk about that original report in detail, but basically: the mods came to the conclusion that Dream had a 1 in 7.5 trillion chance of getting the pearl bartering rates and the blaze drop odds that he did within the 6 streams he did. As in, someone would need that luck to replicate what dream got. Therefore, he cheated.

I’m going to put this into a sort of ‘point form’ in according to topic, attempting to put it in chronological order.

Dream’s Initial Tweets

Ok so first like. these are bad. these tweets are what he said (on twitter, excluding in the speedrunning discord) directly after the video was Uploaded to Geo’s channel.

worth noting he did apologize later, although i wanted to talk about these two instances so i felt the need to include it.

there’s a lot of interesting wording in the apology tweet itself too. I personally find that when he apologizes he tends to still be very subtextually angry in them with the tone, but more specifically. where he says ‘although i have reason to be upset’, that’s kinda weak and really unneeded. Alongside the ‘intense criticism’, it reads as him trying to say he’s still in the right. kind of like “im sorry i was rude even though I had reason to be rude’. Its an apology sure but he’s not saying sorry for how he really reacted; its justified to him.

Dream’s Response Video

Dream posted a response on his side channel DreamXD on the 22nd, along with the report he had a supposed astrophysicist conduct. I’m going to talk about the report separately from the video for reasons I’ll explain.

Frankly, the video doesn’t really summarize or explain the report in a meaningful way. At most, it takes some points from it but tends to twist the numbers around, misunderstand the probability and math, and also what the report itself concludes.

Essentially, dream’s video insists that the numbers found by the mods are wrong and therefore he didn’t cheat at all, yet the report concludes that the numbers found by the mods weren’t entirely accurate, however they’re still extremely unlikely. This is also all under the assumption that the report is entirely correct (ill say how its not next)

His first point is that only his 1.16 run (that was at 5th place two months ago, would have now been 16th) was deemed cheated. This is true; the mods have said that he isnt banned outright and theres no reason to question the legitimacy of his 1.15 runs.

He also concludes that Geo’s statement that Dream didn’t cooperate with them, and that he deleted 1.16 mod folders, was false. This one is a little more complicated. It could more be chalked up to a miscommunication, although it’s relevant. Geosquare posted screenshots of the specific conversation they had:

Essentially it wasn’t entirely clear, i can understand how geo and the mods interpreted it in such a way. Altho April added in a quote retweet thread that dream didn’t supply the folder she asked for, so he didn’t supply everything they asked for like he states in the video

Essentially: yeah, misleading and weird on both ends. I dont think this is really anything quantifiable, although dream talked about this in the video heavily.

Out of this though, Geo DID correct himself in the description of the mods’ video. Dream shows this in his own response, but it crops out some of what geo says. here’s from dream’s video

that Update 2 is where he corrects himself. literally why the fuck would you crop it like this and put it in the video i mean this looks so weird and genuinely doesnt provide anything. Here’s what geo actually said

Dream specifically cut it before the line where geo mentions how he said he deleted his specific 1.16 speedrun profile. This one is just so dumb to me. I’d say ‘why not include that’ but either i feel its a) so there’s no potential for people to say what he had actually said could be interpreted otherwise easily or b) doesnt want people to know he got so upset he deleted files (ego wise yknow). Again, I dont think this is definitive of anything but god. it feels scummy lmao

The Video: Incorrect Representation of His Own Report

Dream straight up doesnt present the report’s numbers properly. In fact it makes the entirety of his visuals forfeit, i.e. the gold block analogy that goes on for like 20 minutes.

The mods said his luck was 1/7.5 trillion. Dream’s report says its 1/10 million (with the addition of 5 other streams) or 1/100 million (only the 6 streams).

I’ll only consider the 1/10 mil odds, since its all dream really brings up. but Basically; there’s not much difference between 1/10 million and 1/7.5 trillion.

Dream says that the difference is 7.5 trillion minus 10 million, aka 7.4999 trillion. This is what his entire visual with the gold blocks is based on. This is absolutely incorrect, i cant stress that enough.

You can’t find the difference of fractions by subtracting only the denominators. Like. this is elementary school math. it just doesnt work.

It’d actually be calculated as: (1/10 000 000) - (1/7 500 000 000 000) = (74999/7 500 000 000 000)

If the mods are wrong, they’re only wrong by 749999/7.5 trillion. that’s literally only 0.000000099999866666667.

Dream no doubt saw the numbers, considered 10 million vs. 7.5 trillion, and used these big numbers to hold his own point. PROBABILITY DOESNT WORK LIKE THAT. I really think he was just taking advantage of the seemingly big numbers here and wrote it out in a way that favoured him. The gold block analogy in the video played throughout the entire video practically, jokes were made on it, and he made a point of it being ‘so big the game crashed’.

It’s just plain wrong. even so a difference in the odds doesnt prove shit. He’s downplaying his own odds that he found too. 1/10 million isnt a small number. Even though the legitimacy of that calculation is in question, it is still significant enough to proclaim he cheated.

Some quick points before I move onto the report; these aren’t as significant in my eyes but it adds to the picture

there’s been criticism of his joking manor throughout the entire video, very specifically the Bill Nye joke. Considering he doesnt actually have a name to provide for his astrophysicist, this joke doesnt feel right

the mod he had a voice clip from (willz) even believes that he cheated and has agreed with the mod team the whole time.

Dream never has a name for the mod who is apparently on his side (more understandable), the minecraft developer he quoted, or the astrophysicist (most damning)

Dream states that fabric is used by most speedrunners which is true, but fabric and fabric API are different; dream also had the latter installed. my knowledge of how theyre different is limited, all i really know is the API is what can enable editing of the code while fabric is more a modloader. im not entirely sure on this

Dream has said at the end of the video that all funds will go to the mod team so they can make a client that will regulate cheaters. this has been noted as feeling manipulative or like a ‘bribe’, but it definitely puts the mods in a bad position.

either they accept it and look like they ‘gave in’ to dream and therefore acknowledge him in the right

they deny it and look selfish/taking dream’s kindness for granted

geo said they would insist it goes to a charity instead

Dream constantly disregards the mods as young, inexperienced, ‘just volunteers’ etcetcetc, despite the fact that theyre analysis has been discussed by people with confirmed PhDs without much criticism

Dream’s Report

The report itself is extremely interesting, in that it’s very questionable, but even so it doesn’t come to the conclusion that dream didn’t cheat. The tone between the video and the report is drastically different.

This is from the “3. What are the goals of this document?” section:

It essentially says this isnt intended, from the very beginning, to completely exonerate dream of cheating. Also note that the author says the mods’ report was mostly correct.

This is at the end of “9 Conclussions”:

It does notably say cheating isnt the only explanation, but it doesnt actually go as far to say that it’s not possible that he cheated.

But this can be argued to not matter if we consider the validity of the report as a whole

Dream’s Report: Criticisms

Possibly the first and most known debunking of the report is by u/mfb on reddit, although there’s been much more such as this programmer criticizing the code provided at the end of the report (partially due to how the author of it stated that piglins barter 4-7 pearls, which is incorrect: it’s 4-8), Andrew Gelman, an actual statistician professor from harvard, commented on the original mods’ report as ‘impressive’ while Dream’s report is being regarded as something funny in the comments, and even analysis of dream’s behaviours and his argument by a law student

But what u/mfb posted is what i’ll focus on. Some background into the user; he’s a particle physicist, is moderator in subreddits like r/cosmology and r/astrophysics, he’s regarded as a reliable source on r/askscience and r/askreddit. Basically, multiple other people have vouched for him and before all this he had many posts in these fields.

that’s already better than the unnamed astrophysicist.

The post is better speaking for itself but here is a few exerpts from it;

Essentially, the report’s methods are debunked by u/mfb-, alongside that a moderator of r/statistics regarded the report as ‘nonsensical in its application of statistics’ and linked to u/mfb-’s comment.

i’m going to end this here. Partially because severe backpain or whatever,.

but I want to say at this point its practically definitive that dream cheated, that he lied to us, and that he continues to do so. Much more could be said on his video such as his tone, intentions, the overt emphasis on the ‘biases’ of the mods.

I havent even mentioned that the ‘astrophysicist’ themself may be a scam; they are sourced from a website that is extremely sketchy, has no names attached to it, and was created less than a year ago (with practically no traffic on it until maybe a month ago).

But i hope this is coherent. I have interest in this so if theres questions im always open.

#dreamwastaken #mcyt #discourse #this ends suddenly because chronic pain a bitch but it stands

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supernaturalfreewill · 4 years

Photo

Words: 5,232 Sister!Winchester Reader x Gabriel Warnings: violence, intense scenarios, violent imagery A/N: So... once upon a time I was writing two series at once... Mess Is Mine and Fangs and First Impressions. And I said to myself, "Self, we are never going to write two series at the same time again! This is stressful!" And yet, here I am today, already writing two series (The Wrong Bed, Sam x Reader which is almost done! and Even in the Darkest Heart, a Demon!Dean series) and now I'm being dumb and chucking in a third. This was supposed to be a One Shot but as we've already established on this blog I am apparently incapable of writing short fics. So HERE YA GO! New Series. Don't ask me how many parts it will be because I literally have NO IDEA. :) But having a steaming slice of Gabriel, straight out of the oven.

Your name: submit What is this?

White. Clean, blank, pure white. That was all you were aware of suddenly. It was blindingly white and as you sat up and then pulled yourself to your feet, you saw that it was like an expansive room, painted in the color of freshly fallen snow, unmarred by any track or trail. All was pure white.

“Hello?” The only answer you received was the lonely echo of your voice, so distorted by the time it bounced back that it was almost unrecognizable. Where the fuck am I? you wondered. You started to walk, but as everything was the same, the sensation of moving was unaccompanied by any visual cue that you actually were moving. This was so unsettling and disorienting that you ceased your tentative steps quickly. Your heart started to race a little faster and a disturbing thought popped into your mind. Am I dead?

_ _ _ _ _ _ “I need a large bore IV, wide open. And up her oxygen percentage. Her numbers are tanking!”

“Sir, you really have to stay back. Sir! You’re not allowed beyond these doors!”

Dean watched helplessly as your unconscious body, straddled by a doctor with their hands pressed firmly down onto your abdomen, was hurried through a pair of swinging doors, flanked by an army of medical personnel. Dean finally registered the nurse in front of him and stopped before he collided with her outstretched hands. “Where are they—”

“They’re taking her straight into surgery. Are you next of kin?”

“Yes—My brother and I. She’s our sister! I need an update! As soon as you have one!” Dean urged.

“Do you give us permission to perform life-saving actions like resuscitation if necessary?” The words came out in a fast tumble and Dean didn’t even process them before he answered.

“Yes, goddammit! Do whatever you have to—she has to be okay!”

“We’ll let you know as soon as we know anything,” The nurse turned and ran down the long hallway, the swinging doors closing finally behind her. Dean paced a tight circle, a bundle of nerves and rage.

In about 20 minutes, Sam came running up and spotted Dean collapsed in a chair in the little seating area, endlessly bouncing his knee. “Hey—what’s going on? They wouldn’t let me leave—I almost punched out a security guard,” he said desperately. Sam had fresh stitches in his forehead and he was developing quite the bruise around one eye.

Dean let out a heavy exhale. “They rushed her right into surgery.” Dean rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin. “Are you okay?” he asked, finally looking up to inspect Sam’s stitches.

Sam collapsed into a chair beside his brother. “Fine. They said the concussion is probably mild. Nice to be numbed for stitches for once,” he said, but his eyes kept darting back toward the doors and he was wringing his hands. “Did you hear anything yet?”

“No.”

The Winchesters sat in a heavy silence for almost two hours before a doctor came out.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You were becoming so anxious by the lack of anything and the horrible thought in your head that this was it, this was dying, that your heart was absolutely racing in your chest now. Sitting still didn’t seem like a good option, but the thought of trying to move again through all that blank nothingness seemed just as bad. “Hello?!” you yelled once more, this time as loud as you could.

“Hi there.”

You jumped with a startled gasp and spun around, one hand on your chest out of fright and surprise. There was a figure there. He had a small, warm smile on his face and his irises seemed to blaze golden and light brown. It was strange—you felt an overwhelming sense of calm as you looked at him. Your heart rate had slowed to its usual pace and you no longer felt that bubble of rising panic in your chest, threatening to burst. You were keenly aware that in your profession, a seemingly kind face didn’t necessarily mean anything—and yet, he had somehow stopped your wounded whirling.

“Who—who are you?” you asked, finally able to recover from your surprise and find your voice.

His smile widened on one side, curving up in a crooked half-smirk. “Well… I suppose you can call me your guardian angel,” he said.

Your brow only furrowed down in confusion. “Where… are we?”

“Difficult question to answer. We’re nowhere and yet, in some sense… kind of everywhere to you right now.”

The wrinkles on your furrowed brow deepened. “Am I—am I dead?”

He threw his head back and laughed heartily, while you merely looked on in perplexity. “Now, what kind of guardian angel would I be if that were the case?” he asked you. He suddenly stuck a hand into his pocket and pulled out a large Twix candy bar, bouncing a little unconcernedly on his toes. He opened it and took a big bite, before meeting your eyes again.

“I’m sorry—but who are you?” you asked again.

He let out another small chuckle and you watched as the corners of his eyes crinkled this time in a broad smile, but he still didn’t give you an answer.

“If I’m not dead, what exactly is happening?”

He tilted his head a little and looked at you for a long moment. “Do you remember that man in the bar?”

And suddenly it was like you were there—sensory overload. You could hear the drone of the music in the background and smell that heady scent of beer… And there was the man. You saw his face clearly, and now you saw that he had been watching you.

“I see him,” you said, and suddenly you were back in the white space. “Saw him.”

The figure nodded. “Well, he wasn’t just a guy in the bar.”

Now, you tilted your head a little in an unspoken question and your eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“He was the thing you were hunting. And he figured out that you were hunting him.”

As soon as he said it you heard a crack like thunder and a flash like hot, white lightning. Your body jolted and there was a searing pain in your stomach. You looked down saw an expanding circle of dark crimson on your shirt, and when you pressed a hand to it your fingers came away stained bright red, sticky with blood. Now when you looked back up at the figure he wasn’t smiling anymore and there was no sign of the candy bar or wrapper. He raised two fingers and snapped, and the searing pain disappeared along with the scarlet stain on your shirt.

“Sorry about that,” he said. His voice now was lacking the playful lilt it had before. It was soft and serious. “That can happen from time to time. Reality leaks in a little bit.”

Suddenly, you understood and then you remembered. You had heard his footsteps behind you, first at a distance and then quickly, running. You had turned and then… the crack of the gun going off and echoing in the lonely parking lot—the flash of the muzzle. More gunshots, must have been Sam and Dean shooting back—they had been ahead of you going to the Impala. But you were already on your knees, bleeding, clutching your stomach and struggling to see anything through the searing pain.

“He shot me,” you said.

“He did,” the stranger said.

“But I’m alive?”

“Yes.” A long silence stretched where you both just looked at each other, and you were reeling from the implications.

“So, is this real or all in my head?” you asked him.

He smiled again, just a small one, and it lit fireworks of light off in his eyes. They were mesmerizing. “Why can’t it be both?” he asked. “We’ll be seeing each other again. I promise.”

“But—wait!”

_ _ _ _ _ _

Sam and Dean both jumped to their feet when the surgeon came out through the swinging doors and eagerly ran to meet her.

“Y/N is going to make it,” she said. The brothers both heaved huge sighs of relief. Sam crumpled half over and put his hands on his knees, forcing in air. Dean shut his eyes and clenched a hand into a fist. “She’s very, very luckily to be alive. The bullet lacerated her liver and she lost a lot of blood but it missed her hepatic artery by mere millimeters. If that had been hit, she would have bled out in minutes,” the surgeon said. Sam straightened back up stiffly and exchanged a look of horror and desperation with Dean. “She’s in critical condition and we will keep her in the ICU until she is more stable, but she’ll be okay. Thank goodness you two got her here so quickly,” the surgeon said.

“Thank you,” Dean said forcefully.

“Yes, thank you so much,” Sam added. The surgeon nodded and headed back through the doors. The Winchesters stood there in silence after the doctor left until finally Sam broke it.

“That was way too close,” he said.

Dean swallowed hard at the lump in his throat, but it wouldn’t lessen. “Way too damn close,” he said, his voice breaking a little. He wandered back over to collapse into the chairs. Sam sank down next to him and glanced over at his big brother.

“At least the shifter is dead,” Sam said. “Yeah. But we still have to deal with the cops,” Dean growled. “Afterall, we did kill someone in a parking lot…”

“There was surveillance at the bar. It was clear self-defense. We have nothing to worry about,” Sam reassured him.

“Well, not nothing,” Dean said. “You know what a pain in the ass it is going to be trying to keep Y/N from doing anything to heal up?” A faint touch of a smile reached his eyes as he looked over at Sam.

He nodded. “She is a Winchester.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

You were finally moved from the ICU, and Sam and Dean snuck in early, even before visiting hours, so they could be there when you woke up. Sam had a huge bouquet of sunflowers on his lap and Dean had brought your favorite herbal tea. You woke up slowly, still a little foggy from all the painkillers, but you immediately sensed the two figures in your room. Sam noticed you stirring first.

“Hey,” he said sitting up. His voice was soft but you could hear the smile in it. “You’re awake,” he said, climbing to his feet and coming to stand beside your bed. “Brought you something to brighten up the room. I know they’re your favorite,” he said, setting down the huge bouquet on the side table.

You blinked heavily a few times and managed a weak smile at him, “Thanks. It’s good to be up and have my room brightened,” you said. You put your hands down on the bed and tried to sit up a little more but immediately winced and hunched over, a hiss of breath drawn in through your teeth, drawing concerned looks from your older brothers.

Dean was immediately at your other side. “How are you feeling?” he asked. His voice sounded extra gruff to your ears, and you knew it was likely due to worry.

“I’m doing well for someone who has staples holding their guts in,” you said dryly, a small wry smile creeping onto your face. Neither of your big brothers laughed. “Oh, come on! I’m kidding!”

Dean swallowed at the lump and tightness in his throat again but it didn’t abate. “Really though? How’s your pain?”

You shook your head. “I’m fine. Really. You can stop giving me those classic Winchester furrowed brows. I’m okay. They have me on the good drugs,” you added with a small smile. You noticed the paper cup clutched in Dean’s hand. “Is that for me?”

“Oh, yeah. Your favorite tea.”

You grinned at him and accepted the cup. “Thank you.”

Sam sighed heavily beside you, and you could sense your brothers exchanging a glance. “Listen, Y/N…” Sam started. You lowered the cup from your lips and looked at him.

“Stop,” you said holding up a hand. “Before you say anything else, I need to say something.” You struggled to find the words. You wanted, no—needed them to hear every word you were about to say. “This is not your fault,” you said, deliberately turning your eyes to Dean and catching his green ones. “I mean it. This was bad luck. It could have been any of us. I was just the slowest walking to the Impala. My legs are a lot shorter than yours,” you joked. “Alright?” A heavy, thick silence held the room in suspension, feeling like a stifling summer evening heavy with humidity. “I mean it. None of us saw this coming. It isn’t anyone’s fault except the dickhead who shot me.”

Sam was staring at your face and you caught his eyes, which were a little sad and glistening more than they should have been for the light. “We’re your big brothers though,” he said. “We’re supposed to protect you.”

“We thought we lost you,” Dean said.

“But you didn’t,” you retorted. “And you did protect me—you saved my life. They said if you had waited for an ambulance I might not have made it.”

Dean’s jaw clenched and you watched the muscle in it twitch. “Did they tell you?” he asked you, his green eyes holding yours—and you saw fear there, something you rarely saw in his eyes—not that it was never there. He just never let you see it. “Millimeters and it wouldn’t have been fast enough.” You looked down at your hand on the comforter of the hospital blanket.

“Yeah, about that, actually…” you started. Sam’s brow creased even more in the middle. “There’s something else that happened I need to tell you about.”

“What is it?”

“I think while I was in surgery—or maybe even before, I don’t know for sure—but I saw something,” you said, wrapping both your hands around your paper cup again, soaking in the warmth of the tea.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, apprehension growing with every word your spoke.

“It’s kind of hard to explain. I was in this pure white room… and at first there wasn’t anything there. It was just empty but then this… figure appeared.” Your brothers watched your eyes grow a little distant.

“A figure?” Sam repeated. You looked up at him and nodded.

“I asked him who he was and he told me that I could call him my ‘guardian angel’,” you said, now looking over at Dean and trying to read his reaction. His face seemed to darken and you watched the muscle twitch in his jaw again.

“It was probably just your brain trying to process what was happening to you,” Sam offered. “You almost died. The mind does crazy things when the body is in shock—trust me, I know,” he said sincerely. “And so does Dean.”

You shook your head. “No,” you said, vehemently. “It wasn’t that. It wasn’t. It was real. I’m telling you; it was—” you sighed heavily, not even knowing how to explain without sounding stupid. “—it was happening in my head but this figure, I don’t know… There was something about him. I think he really exists,” you said.

“Did he say anything else?” Dean pressed you.

“I asked him who he was and then I asked him where we were and he said something like, ‘We’re nowhere and yet, in some sense everywhere.’ Whatever the hell that means,” you said, fiddling with the sleeve on your hospital gown. You hesitated, knowing the next question you asked would be hard for your brothers to hear. “Um. And then I asked him if I was dead… and—it was the strangest thing. He laughed and he made some joke about it.”

“He made a joke? What the hell?” Sam repeated.

Dean shook his head. “What kind of joke?”

“Like, ‘oh, how good of a guardian angel would I be if you were dead?’ Oh! And it gets weirder… then he reached in his pocket and pulled out a candy bar.”

Now, Dean and Sam both straightened up involuntarily and looked at each other long and hard in some kind of silent communication. “What? What is it?” you asked. “Come on. Don’t do the silent, telepathic thing. I hate when you do that,” you said.

Sam swallowed hard. “What did this figure look like?” he asked.

You tried to call up an image of him in your mind, and as soon as you shut your eyes you could see him as clear as day. “He has sort of warm brown hair. It’s a little shorter than yours, Sam, kind of swept back. And he has these—these eyes that look like they’re golden brown or amber. A little stubble on his face and he has this cheeky sort of little smile…” You opened your eyes again and looked at your brothers. Their expressions made it quite clear they knew exactly who you were describing.

Dean ran a hand over his face and licked his lips. “You said he pulled out a candy bar?”

“Mhm. I wouldn’t get that detail wrong,” you said.

Sam shrugged and his eyebrows lifted. He shook his head, a little disbelieving.

“What?” you repeated, looking between your brothers. “Who is it? What’s going on?” You were met with stony silence again. “If you two don’t tell me right now I’m going to climb out of this bed and if my stitches rip out it WILL be your fault!”

Dean sighed heavily again. “Alright! Alright! Calm down, turbo!” You sunk back against your pillows again. “Yeah, I think we know who you saw. But—I mean—” Dean looked to Sam who shook his head again, apparently having no explanation. “It doesn’t make any sense.” You gave a questioning look.

“We knew him. Before we knew about you. It was definitely not your mind inventing this, but—he’s dead as far as we know,” Sam said.

Now it was your turn to gulp at the tightness in your throat. “Dead?” you repeated. Sam nodded.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “It’s complicated.”

You laughed sardonically and let your head fall back against your pillow, feeling suddenly tired. “Isn’t it always with us?”

“You’re tired. You obviously need to rest so we can talk about this later,” Dean said, putting a hand gently on your shoulder.

“What?! No! You’re not just gonna say that and expect me to be able to—to sleep!” You looked between your brothers in annoyance. “I’m serious! Cough it up! If you think I’m giving the two of you time to concoct some bullshit cover story you have another thing coming.”

Sam closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright. Just—relax. We don’t need you getting all worked up… You remember that trickster we told you about? Way before we found out about you?”

“The one who made you watch Dean die over and over again?”

“Yes, exactly,” Sam said.

“…Wait, you think that figure I saw was this—this trickster? That’s way too powerful for a—”

“He wasn’t a trickster,” Dean interrupted. “He was an archangel playing at being a trickster.”

Your jaw dropped open. “What?”

“Gabriel. It was the archangel Gabriel,” Sam said. You stared at him like he was insane. And then you looked over at Dean, who was refusing to look at you and instead staring, brooding, at his boots, chewing on his lower lip.

“Pardon my French but fucking--Gabriel?? THE Gabriel?”

Sam nodded. He could see your mind starting to spiral. “Whoa, whoa, whoa—he said he was my ‘guardian angel’. You don’t think he was being serious, do you?”

Dean shrugged. “We don’t know. We don’t even know if he’s back. He’s supposed to be dead. Sam and I basically watched him die. Besides, just because he said something like that doesn’t mean anything. He loves goofing around,” Dean said, and you heard some bitterness still in his voice.

“I don’t think saving my life is goofing around,” you retorted.

“We don’t know for sure that he did that,” Sam said. “We need to be careful here. There could be some other agenda. I mean, he was dead. So, if he is actually back that is a big enough mystery right there to warrant being concerned. Resurrections tend to have a catch.”

“I didn’t even know archangels could die,” you said, a little sadly. “Why did he—?"

“He died to save Dean and I,” Sam said. You let out an exhale in an audible rush of air. “Y/N, did he say anything else?”

Now you couldn’t think. Your mind was spinning. You pressed your palms over your eyes. “Umm, yeah he—I asked him if I wasn’t dead what was happening and he walked me through the shooting. The guy in the bar… the parking lot—” you suddenly shuddered and your eyes flew wide open. You pressed one hand over your incision.

“You okay?” Sam put a hand gently on your arm.

“It was like I was there. I could see everything as if in the actual moment. I saw the man in the bar watching us. I heard him running up behind me when we were in the parking lot. And then I could feel it again…” You trailed off and the room stayed silent for a long moment, each of you grappling again with how close to true disaster and devastation you had all come. Sam reached out and grabbed your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“But he just snapped his fingers and it was gone—the pain and everything.” You looked over at Dean. “I heard more gunshots—after I was shot. Did you and Sam—?”

Dean nodded solemnly. “We got him. He’s gone.”

That answer was weighty. You were glad that he was gone, but you wondered about the implications. “Are you and Sam going to get into trouble? I’m guessing there is an investigation and—you killed someone. What if—” Dean smiled fondly at you and chuckled a little. “Are you really worried about that? You almost died, and you’re worried about Sammy and me dealing with the cops? It’s all taken care of, okay? There were surveillance cameras in the lot. They caught everything. It was a clear case of self-defense. Don’t worry.”

You nodded and let out a relieved sigh. “Good. That’s really good. Who is going to wait on me hand and foot if the two of you are in jail?” you joked.

“Y/N,” Sam said, his tone again serious. “What else did Gabriel say?”

“Right. Umm, I asked him what was happening if I wasn’t dead—if it was real or all in my head. He said ‘Why not both?’ and then he told me—” you suddenly remembered his last words to you and the beeping on the heart monitor increased to match the rushing of your heart. You gulped. “He said we would be seeing each other again. What do you think that means?”

Sam shook his head and looked to Dean, whose face was stern and serious. “I don’t know.”

“Do you think it was really Gabriel?” you asked. “I mean, it could have been something else pretending to be him, couldn’t it?”

Sam rubbed a hand over the center of his chest, where a tightness seemed to be taking hold. “I don’t know. We don’t know. But you should get some rest now. Dean and I will look into this, okay?”

They both kissed your forehead and made sure you were comfortable against your pillows before retreating to the hallway, hoping that you would take their advice and get some sleep while they investigated.

Dean pulled out his phone and pressed the speed dial number for Cas, who was back at the bunker. Cas answered on the first ring.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, hey. Sammy and I are just leaving the hospital.”

“How is Y/N?”

“Well, you know, as good as can be expected. She seems to be in good spirits though.”

Cas breathed a sigh of relief into the phone. “Good. That’s very good news. I feel so… useless,” he said a little quietly.

“I know,” Dean replied. “But there’s nothing to be done about that right now. And none of this is your fault.” There was a beat of silence where Dean guessed Cas was still wishing as hard as he could that he would somehow magically regain his angel mojo. “Hey, listen, though… there does seem to be something else strange going on…”

“What do you mean?” The angel’s voice immediately deepened with worry.

Dean ran a hand back through his hair. “Y/N said when she was unconscious that she had some sort of dream or vision or something. She is fairly convinced that it really happened.”

“Okay…” Cas’s voice was uneasy.

Dean quickly related the whole story to Cas with as much detail as he could remember, but purposely omitted the key moment—the candy bar. “This figure claimed to be her guardian angel.” “Well, that is odd because the human idea of a ‘guardian angel’ is quite rare in actuality. Only a very, very small number of humans would ever be given that kind of special protection and they would have to be very important.”

“Right. But we asked her to describe who she saw and guess who it was?”

“Dean, you know I don’t like guessing games—”

“Frickin’ Gabriel. The archangel.” Dean waited for Cas to say something but the line was quiet. “Cas? Cas, are you still there?”

On the other end, standing in the front room of the bunker, there was a very good reason Cas was silent.

“Hello, brother.”

Standing before him was the very being Dean had just mentioned.

“Oh, why don’t you just go ahead and tell Dean-o you need to call him back.”

Cas was so shocked that he gulped and did just that without thinking.

“Cas, wait! What’s—” Dean let out an annoyed sigh and Sam’s brow contracted low over his eyes.

“What was that?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Cas just hung up on me all of a sudden. He sounded weird,” Dean mused, frowning down at his phone. He redialed Cas’s number but it simply rang and rang.

Back in the bunker, the angel stared in shock at Gabriel. “Wow. What exactly have you done to yourself, brother? I mean, I was never a big fan of the trench coat but even that was better than this,” Gabriel said with a grimace, taking in Cas’s sweatshirt and jeans. “Yikes. But, I’ll admit I do kind of dig the scruffy look you’ve got going on with the beard.”

Cas’s dark eyebrows were casting a heavy shadow over his cobalt eyes. “Gabriel… How—how is this possible?” he asked, stepping back slightly. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Well, I was dead. Dead as a door nail. But—then, all of a sudden, I wasn’t,” he said. He walked casually over to the table and hopped up to sit on it.

“What—” Cas gulped anxiously. “How?”

“Beats me. Dad up to his old tricks again if I had to guess. I was given some specific instructions though…” he added mysteriously.

Cas didn’t say anything and just studied him. He seemed to be quite the same Gabriel that Cas remembered. “What were they?”

“Oh, come on, Cas! You never did have much flair for the dramatic. You really think I’m just going to sit here and tell you? No, no, no… especially when you’re the only one here…” he said, glancing around. He jumped back down onto his feet. “Listen, don’t bother calling those flannel-swaddled jawlines back—first of all because your phone is broken—”

Cas glanced down at the screen on his phone and it was cracked and did not light when he pressed the button on the side. He gave the archangel an annoyed look.

“And second of all, because they will know when it’s time for them to know. Which, by my calculations, will be when they get back here in three to five days once Y/N is able to leave the hospital.”

“Dean said she saw you when she was unconscious or… dying,” Cas said. It was hard even to get the word out.

Gabriel smiled. “Did he now? How interesting, don’t you think?”

Cas was getting irritated with him for playing coy. “Enough, Gabriel. Did you save her life?”

He pointed to himself. “Did I? Y/N had some sort of vision of a mystic figure? Sounds like a classic near-death experience to me. Who’s to say if it really happened at all?” He smiled serenely at Cas again. “Where is Y/N’s room? This way?” he asked, pointing down the hallway. Cas frowned at the question but Gabriel only took off in that direction.

“Gabriel,” Cas called after him, rushing to catch up. “I don’t have my grace but you do. Why don’t you go heal Y/N now?”

Gabriel gave Cas a doubtful look. “Yeah, I’m sure that miracle would go completely unnoticed by the hospital staff… Look, brother, as much as I would like to simply go and fix her, take away all the ouchies, I can’t yet. Y/N is going to have to wait until she’s released.”

Despite his usual playful tone, Cas thought he saw real concern in his brother’s eyes while he spoke of you. “Well, is it true?”

Gabriel was continuing his hurried walk down the hall, poking his head into every room to see if it was yours. “Is what?” he asked carelessly over his shoulder.

“You told Y/N you were her guardian angel!”

Surprisingly this stopped him in his tracks and he turned to face Cas, his lips pressed together into a thin line. “Castiel, you know how rare that is. I mean, they hardly exist. Only a handful over all the millennia,” he said softly. There was a strange light in his eyes and Cas studied his expression carefully.

“That didn’t answer my question.”

And in response to that, Gabriel only smiled.

Part 2

#gabriel fanfiction #gabriel x reader #gabe fics #archangel #supernatural fics #reader insert #spn

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worldcakecakecake · 3 years

Text

On Deutschland and Italia, by Lovino Valenti

Lovino writes a series of blog entries on the relationship between Germany and Italy as he deals with a move to Hamburg, his brother’s wedding, and his budding romance (which he denies) to the infuriating Gilbert Beilschmidt.

Chapter 9

It was a Friday Lovino had taken to work from home, calmed with coffee, typing away in a serene air…one he had tried to get himself on, avoiding the notification for a reminder of an event he was invited to, the dinner were Feliciano said he was finally going to talk about what’s going on. It was supposed to be tomorrow and all he could feel was anguish and worry, expecting the worst words to come then. And when they say it…what could he do? What could he say? What could he convince them to do? His thoughts were interrupted by a call…Gilbert’s name in a splendid of color to him. Despite the bubbling pink feelings, he took the call quick and harsh, hiding whatever immense of feelings. “Pronto?”

“So, Ludwig just admitted to me that he’s starting a new business.”

“A whole new business!” Lovino practically shouted.

“I couldn’t get anything else out of him. He told me he’ll say more at the dinner tomorrow.”

Lovino groaned, “I don’t like this, I don’t like this at all.”

“He mentioned that he’s worried about what we’re going to think.”

“That’s because it surely has to be something horrible! Ugh, does my brother even understand what he’s getting himself into?” He started swinging a pen, ready to aim in his anger.

“Well, what can we do about it? The wedding is in a month! No matter what they decided on, everything is well on its way and there’s nothing we can do to change that!”

“Yes…yes! We have to!”

“Lovino, I’m just as worried as you are, but we can’t make them realize-”

“That’s what we’ll do! Make them realize!”

“Realize what?”

“How everything is a bad idea, how they should re-think this entire thing and deal with something safer…something that might get them to stay here even,” Lovino stood and paced trying to get his thoughts to kindle.

“What can we possibly get short notice?”

And Lovino stopped, Gilbert understanding with the silence that he didn’t have a single clue. It continued, Gilbert being able to hear the furious tap of the pen Lovino held.

“What if we…what if we talk to our families today?” Gilbert suggested. “Let them know part of what’s going on. Maybe then, when Ludwig and Feliciano come, they’ll have ideas and we can be like this…team! With enough force, we can change their minds!” Gilbert alighted, with bright hope that already promised his little brother still in Germany.

“That’s…that’s brilliant!”

Gilbert startled…not expecting such a positive reaction from him. The energy he glowed with…oh…he was blushing, hand shaking, close to running to him and witnessing it all right before him. “You-you…you think so?” He tried to sound his usual dashing grin, yet it came out crocked and he was now beginning to sweat.

You know what…maybe staying home was a better idea.

“Yes! It’s perfect!” A quick glance to the clock, only three p.m., enough time, Lovino thought. “But we have to start now! I’ll talk to my grandfather and parents.” In his haste, not really being conscious of what he was doing, he threw a loving kiss that made Gilbert swear he was going to faint. “Good luck and see you tomorrow,” those last words were uttered in deep seduction and Gilbert couldn’t take it. Lovino hung up, not giving the chance for Gilbert to say a proper goodbye…not that he could at the moment. He fell straight to the couch, keeping his eyes wide to tell himself that this wasn’t a dream.

Oh no…he had it bad, so bad…he could hear his brother laughing in some corner of his mind.

He couldn’t stand up, he was stuck in his own bliss, with nothing on his mind but Lovino and wanting the next day to come. Oh there was that shirt he could wear! The one his mother always told him to, but he never did thinking it made him look as pompous as his cousin Roderich. Oh wait, his mother! He had to start calling them.

It was a splendid night, slightly cold, but still a perfect atmosphere that to Ludwig and Feliciano was even romantic. How they wished they could have saved it only for themselves, with the restaurant’s dim lighting, one of the private corners they knew Augusto can easily place for them. Instead, it was one of the big tables that was waiting for them, they were late, and from what they could see out the window, the ones missing.

“I’m sure they’ll be happy,” Feliciano confided.

Ludwig sighed though, still so anxious. He took Feliciano’s hand, a tight grasp, raising to kiss. “Have I told you that my biggest fear is losing you…and that I love you deeper than anything else I could,” he said like it was a goodbye.

Feliciano giggled, “everything is going to be fine.” He raised a hand to caress dearly at the side of his face.

A sudden outburst of Augusto flailing his arms upwards, shouting in demand brought Feliciano back to the sight of the restaurant. “I think we should be heading inside,” and he went forward.

“Right behind you,” Ludwig let himself sway in the dumbfounded love, a hand on Feliciano’s back as support as he followed right behind him.

“-my son is more than capable enough!” Reinhardt’s shout was their welcome.

“Then he would have been given more! Not left stranded to his luck!” Augusto shouted back.

“It was bankruptcy.” Aldrich joined.

“And even so, Ludwig can put up a company in a matter of months, while Feliciano will most likely stay in his same position for years on end.”

It hurt Feliciano to hear this from Reinhardt, a sudden scared grasp given to Ludwig.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if this was all part of a scheme to get Ludwig to do everything, while Feliciano can just lay in the house without a worry to spare!” Monika gave in.

“My son has honor! He wouldn’t submit to this!” Vincenzo defended.

“He’s the one who’ll be paying for everything after all! From the looks of it, I guess it will be Ludwig staying at home expecting Feliciano to do absolutely everything!” Renata shouted the loudest, insulted.

“Let him! Ludwig will in the end overwork himself more!” Reinhard continued.

“My son will not be a servant!” Vincenzo proclaimed.

Neither couldn’t take it, Feliciano coughing to bring their attention, so all could see they were there, holding to each other tightly, wide eyed at such accusations. “What…what is going on?” Feliciano managed to ask even with the tremble.

“How long were you expecting to hide this from us?” Augusto demanded as he turned to them.

No greetings, no peace, blazing anger that wanted words of explanation before anything else.

“Sir, what do you mean?” Ludwig tried to be civil.

“Oh, don’t act dumb! We know your sick plan to run off without a coin on your backs! You expect Feliciano to do your biding while you go off and party in Santo Domingo!” Vincenzo accused loudly.

“What?...No! I wouldn’t do something like that!” Ludwig turned to the defensive.

“But you are going to!” Augusto joined.

“No! I’m not! Why would you even-”

“Don’t go shouting just at Ludwig! You haven’t addressed Feliciano’s complot to go off with Ludwig’s money when the opportunity presents itself!” Monika pointed.

“No! No! No! I would never!” Feliciano tried to even with their shouts, but they came out meek, especially as he kept his tight hold on Ludwig’s arm, now clearly afraid.

“Look! There must have been some misunderstanding. The table is ready, we can sit down and talk about this,” Ludwig pointed in the hopes they could hurry.

“Oh, Ludwig! There’s no need to defend him! You can go outright and say what is really going on!” Louis, with everyone else, seemed to block a pathway that could lead them to the table…and to some sense.

“I can, if you just let me explain!”

“Why should you? Let Feliciano do his own talking!” Augusto shouted, coming close, ready to take Feliciano to his side if he had to.

“I…I…” Feliciano was trembling now.

“He can’t even defend himself!”

“Caught him red handed!” Monika blamed.

“But I didn’t do anything!”

“You’re only making him nervous!” Renata tried to calm.

“Because it’s all exactly what he’s planning!”

“He’s not planning anything!”

“Well…technically we are…”

“So there is a plan!”

“But it’s not what you think!”

“I knew something was off with Ludwig, knew it the moment they announced they were getting married!” Vincenzo shouted on.

“Misusing of my boy’s innocence! He wants nothing but to taint him and leave him for the next offering body!” Augusto dramatized. “Feliciano, this is no way to give your virginity!”

“Nonno…I’m not a virgin.”

For some reason…those words…that brought deep flushes to the couple was the only thing that managed to bring final silence.

“…you’re not…? When…when did this happen? Who?” Augusto was truly shocked and devastated.

“Uh…” Ludwig tried to word.

“Ludwig, we don’t have to tell them anything…” Feliciano held him.

“So you won’t!” Aldrich angered.

“You’re not even letting us!”

“What excuse can you give us to defend this crazed plot?”

“It’s not a crazed plot! If you would only listen!”

“Well we don’t have to listen! We know enough! And let me say that I do not approve of it at all!” Reinhardt declared.

“Feliciano!” And here Vincenzo pulled his son back to them. “We really don’t think you should go through with the marriage! Not when Ludwig can abuse you! I’m sorry, but I must withdraw my blessing!” Vincenzo told all, standing strong in his decree.

“Papa, please! Let us explain!” Feliciano insisted, trying to let go of the harsh grip his family had on him.

“Don’t do this! You haven’t given us the chance to talk!” Ludwig tried to defend, tried to get Feliciano back, but his family brought him back with their own strong grip.

“Ludwig, it’s not worth it! I have to agree with Vincenzo, but I cannot permit such a marriage to occur. I will refuse to participate in it!” Louis said.

“Then fine! I don’t want you to participate in it!” Ludwig managed loosening, harshly moving away from them. “I will marry Feliciano even if this all some plot to take my money away!” He shouted his clarity.

“You’re willing to go through with this just so that could be the end point!” Louis shouted at him, Ludwig reaching an exasperation that was just agreeing so he could get them all to stop.

“Yes! Okay! Fine! Let Feliciano take my money, let him be a lazy ass, let him disappoint me and make a fool of himself!”

And Feliciano joined his family in the insult and disappointment. While they continued crying out, Feliciano tried not to tear at the harshness of such words. Whether they were real or not, the fact that they were a thought shone in screams along with the rest, proved enough of actuality to him.

“Feliciano, let’s just go,” and Ludwig held out his hand expecting it all nothing, no other effort or defend. He wanted to go ignorant to what happened. Feliciano angered and wanted to slap the hand away…but at the same time…he did not want to be chocked by the hold his father gave him or how the rest hovered above him like vicious animals. It seemed that he would only have an escape with Ludwig…and there was something in that idea that settled very wrongly. He briskly let his hand free, glaring at his family and deciding to get away for now, having to take the grasp of Ludwig’s hand.

“After he said all that…you’re still willing to go with him.”

Feliciano flared but tried to keep his anger away from Ludwig or his family. “He’s already taking money from me anyways, so let him be a stuck up, let him betray me and leave me alone in another country,” he spat with fury, the grip of his hand not loving, but suffocating and wanting to hurt.

Ludwig was wide eyed at the answer, fearful and broken, and Feliciano could only look away not explaining anything…as Ludwig did. Grasped still with a deadly hold, they decided on leaving, not looking back, the only sound the echo of Ludwig’s car as it drove down the street, sealing their decision for both families to take witness.

Gilbert and Lovino had not seen what happened, blissfully unaware as they spent their time in Lovino’s apartment, talking and laughing before they had to come down and show another face to the family.

“Rugrats! Of all things!”

“I didn’t want to watch some damn Regular Show!”

They fought even if with smiles and gentility, the only ounce of happiness to arrive to the somberness of what the restaurant had become. No one spoke with one another, and less they were going to sit together in this heaviness. To their surprise, Gilbert and Lovino were the only ones bringing that cheery atmosphere this dinner should have been. Yet they halted and stared in wondering, their mere gazes asking what was wrong.

“Ludwig and Feliciano left,” Monika answered.

“Already? We haven’t even started to eat!” Gilbert was incredulous.

“I…don’t think were going to eat tonight, Gilbert,” Augusto glared, a new blame for any of the Beilschmidts now.

“Ah, come on, Nonno! The cooks were going to make me a pesto pizza!” For once, Lovino was clearly disappointed.

“I’ll…go and stop them from making anything then.” And without another word, the old man turned and made his way inside the kitchen. The rest, without a single glance to meet themselves, began picking their things and one by one each left their own direction without leaving a word of explanation.

“What’s up with them?” Gilbert wondered.

Lovino shrugged, “maybe not hungry. But fuck, my pesto pizza! I was so excited!” Lovino went back to angering.

“Ah, come on, we can just go somewhere else to have it!”

“No! Nu-uh! I don’t trust anywhere else out of nonno’s restaurant. There’s a lot of fakes out there.”

“Then why not make it yourself?”

Lovino was ready to fight it, but stopped when it began to sound quite appetizing. “Ugh! It’s too late to make a pizza now!” He sadly realized.

Gilbert shrugged, “how about tomorrow then? I can come over and you can really show me how it’s done!”

“Great! How about you arrive for lunch and spend the whole day?”

Such excitement, such a good glow.

“Awesome…so…do we make it a date then?” Gilbert dared along with a smirk, a lean and a blush in his cheeks and eyes that Lovino had to look away from before he succumbed to showing himself an utter fool to those gazes.

“Yeah…fine, it’s a date…” he tried hard to pout it…but instead there came a smile that Gilbert didn’t fail to miss.

“So…be at your place by two. You’ll have everything else and I’ll…bring some beer,” he let himself twirl one of Lovino’s curls, what the other thought easing and nice.

“Nothing too shitty, please.”

“Only the best!” They chuckled and began moving away, ever so slow as they couldn’t keep their eyes off each other. Gilbert tried to make his exit backwards, not letting anything break the view he had of Lovino. He let himself indulge in it, smiling and waving. He used one hand to try and find the exit, but he couldn’t control his legs from bumping, tumbling and almost bringing the entire table to the ground.

“Careful!” Lovino scolded, but so gently and sweetly that Gilbert was still enamored.

“Haha, yeah, yeah…yes! I…I can do things…I can walk!”

What an adorable doofus.

“I’ll…see you tomorrow!”

“At two!”

“At two!” Gilbert promised and was off, leaving Lovino with the brightest smile in the ruins of what had just occurred.

The car ride was silent. When they arrived to Ludwig’s apartment, it was also silent. Feliciano didn’t spare a word as he went into the guest room and shut himself inside. Ludwig didn’t bother to fight him about it, he went to his own room and tried to get some sleep. He tried to not be persuaded by the empty spot beside him…the spot where he expected his sun rays to be in, where his arms will embrace it, let his own scent engulf him until he was spread himself with the sun. He turned the other way and tried hard to ignore it…he could sleep without it…he could…-by five a.m. he was already on the table, typing away on his laptop. His eyes were grey, lost on the screen, forcing himself to work, to calculate and write no matter how the anguish weight him into his seating. It was around eight that Feliciano woke…far too early for him. He was just as grey and drained, not bothering for a cup of coffee, a wash, he just took a seating in a near stool, to breathe and lost in thoughts that Ludwig couldn’t read. He forced himself to only be on his laptop, letting this silence continue to reign.

…Their mornings were never like this.

“Ludwig…” Feliciano started to speak, doubtful and fearing, “…do you really think going to Santo Domingo like this is a good idea?”

Ludwig didn’t answer so quickly, didn’t even look at him, Feliciano wondering if he had purposely ignored it…only the more reason for him to anger.

“Everything is already planned…we’ve bought everything we need, the wedding is in a couple of weeks…let’s just…go with it as it should,” he did answer, but he didn’t gaze at anything else.

“I don’t want to just…go with it!”

“Isn’t that something you’re always telling me to do…go with it!”

“Yeah, but…not like this, not after what you said last night.”

Ludwig rolled his eyes, “there was a lot of pressure…”

“So in a lot of pressure you decide to call me a thief, a lazy ass, a disappointment and a fool!”

“I didn’t exactly say those things and you know I didn’t mean it!”

“I heard it, Ludwig! You insinuated them, you thought them, you readily said everything right before your family and mine!” True pain was presented well on Feliciano now.

“You called me a stuck up, a cheater and disloyal.”

“I didn’t-”

“You did! I heard you…and right before my family and yours!” He finally raised his eyes to him, staring and hurtful, Feliciano shaking and hating that this gaze was now brought upon him.

“I…I was hurt by what you said.”

“You didn’t think I was hurt too.” More an edge was added to his tone, a cut that silenced Feliciano, twirling his fingers, looking away as he settled with this new pain.

“I really…I really didn’t mean them.”

“I didn’t mean mine either. Just forget about it…we said what our families wanted to hear and got them off our backs. We can go on.”

“By making each other go against our own families? Ludwig, despite everything, I still care for my family and I want them to keep being a part of my life…yours too.”

“We don’t need them, Feliciano. We have ourselves.”

“But-”

“Do you really want to keep people who said all those things about us?”

“Because we couldn’t explain! They didn’t know any better!”

“And this is how they respond when faced with uncertainty?”

Their voices got higher with each accusation.

“We just…we just had to keep trying. We had to fight and defend one another…” Feliciano was never one to keep himself, Ludwig knew his emotions had to always be displayed. No secrets, no hiding, his eyes reddened and already the first tears began to fall down his cheeks. He thought him beautiful still, but it scorched that they were being caused by him, while all he did was stay seated, trying to keep his eyes away, afraid to face sadness from one he always made sure to make bright.

“Why…why didn’t you stand up for me?...Why didn’t you defend? Why didn’t you try to prove them wrong?”

And yet Ludwig couldn’t face it, couldn’t let himself show how this was shredding him as well, not wanting to show his own weakness when he was too stubborn to keep his strength in the discussion.

“Feliciano…there was no need…” was somehow the only thing he could say.

“No need…no need…” he hiccupped in a heave he couldn’t withstand, those words a heavy marked realization that made him surer of a pathway he had to take. It stung when his hands reached for the ring that had been worn faithfully since the day Ludwig presented it to him in a wonderful proposal. He lunged himself with a terrible cry, knowing what he had to do, what he deserved and should stand strong for, Ludwig crumbling, wishing he could force himself to take Feliciano, but is own despair kept him seated.

The ring began to get removed in what they heard themselves a shriek, released along with a void that sucked whatever light was always present between them.

“Then I guess there’s no need for me to wear this anymore.” And it was placed on the coffee table as a token to be forgotten. “No need for a wedding…no need for us.” Feliciano didn’t bother with another glance, he picked a bag he had made and left. No other goodbye, no beautiful trace. He was gone as swiftly as a ghost, yet with a haunting that kept Ludwig stunned, the pain like the heaviest shot, the weight like a swarm of animals were on top of him, the cage the most restricting he had been in. He heaved, lost on how his movements worked…how to look, how to stand.

In this mess, in this ever clashing of emotions seeming to rampage all across Ludwig’s body, he exploded by throwing his own laptop to the ground, uncaring of pieces and what its memory of work held.

Nothing…it was all nothing…he had nothing anymore.

He pushed his hands into his eyes, ignoring the pain in favor of trying to dam the tears that already began to swarm, but in the end, in a release of breath that made him heavier, he let them coat his face how they wanted, redden him and already paint him a mess after only minutes of being left by Feliciano.

There was no perseveration to move on with his day…it seemed like it wasn’t there anymore, like there was nothing to live for and make it his.

He let himself sink in that position, determined to stay and dig himself ever deeper.

There was nothing else now.

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#on deutschland and italia by lovino valenti #prumano #prumano fanfiction #prumano fanfic #prumano fic #gerita

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