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imaginingaustin · 1 year

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cinco doce

summary: your handsome neighbor is consuming all your thoughts.

inspired by the song el chico del apartamento 512 by selena quintanilla

you returned home one evening to the same routine. you parked outside of your apartment building, walking upstairs to your unit, pass all the lurchers who leered everytime you passed them. you rolled your eyes as you walked down the hall to another random guy whistling at you. you just ignored them as you continued walking to your door.

as you finally reached your safe haven, you heard the door across the hall start opening. you watched as a man walked trough the door, one you’d never seen before. he was tall, and handsome as hell. bright blue eyes that bored into yours, a baseball cap covering his sandy hair. he walked past you, greeting you with a smile and a small hello. you smiled back and watched as he walked down the hall to the stairs.

you were dazed, completely taken by this man that you’d never seen before. did he just move in? has he been living there for years and you’d just never noticed him before? you didn’t know who he was, but you did know that you wanted to know everything about him. you glanced over to his door, the gold plated numbers, 512, burning their permanent place in your brain.

as the days went by, you and this mystery man had a few other passings throughout your apartment complex. checking the mail, going in and out of your units. you always said hi and bye to each other, but never had any extended conversations.

you found yourself in daydreams about this man. going dates, being in a cutesy relationship with him. you’d taken to journaling to express your feelings, and as you read over them every night, you knew that if anyone read them they’d think you were crazy.

“i cannot believe how much this stranger has taken up my mind. i don’t even know his name, but i picture his face every night in my dreams. he is the most beautiful man i’ve ever seen.” you said with a sigh. you were at lunch with a friend of yours, venting to them about your current predicament. “i feel crazy for thinking about him this much.”

“when are you finally gonna talk to him? i've been trying to encourage as soon as you started telling me about him. and that was already two weeks ago.”

“what if he’s unavailable or not interested?” you asked.

“you’ll never know if you don’t talk to him. at least if you know, you can get some kind of closure and move on.” your friend suggested.

“yeah, you’re right. i dont wanna be hung up on this guy if it’s not gonna go anywhere.” you sighed.

once you got home that evening, you stood in the hallway. you stared at his front door, trying to bring yourself to move towards it. but it was as if your shoes were suddenly full of cement, weight two tons each. you took a deep breath, trying to build up the courage to move towards the door. as you finally began to move, you heard his door unlock. you panicked, and quickly turned back to your door, fumbling with your lanyard to find your door key.

“hey. you okay?” his voice asked.

“yeah, i’m fine.” you said, out of breath. your hands were sweaty, making searching for you key more difficult than it needed to be.

“are you sure? you seem in distress over your keys.�� he said. just then you had firm grip on your key. sticking it into the lock.

“there we go! i just have a lot on my mind right now.” you said, taking a deep breath. you finally turned to look at him. his face a clean shaved, his hair looked like it had just been trimmed. he was even more beautiful to you then he’d been all the previous times you’d seen him.

“well, i hope you have a good night.” he said, smiling before he walked off.

“you too.” you nodded, smiling back. you went inside your apartment, quickly closing the door and locking it behind you. “get it together, y/n.” you said to yourself, letting out a loud sigh.

the next day, you finally worked up enough courage to go speak to the handsome man in apartment 512. after breakfast, you got dressed and made yourself look as good as possible while still looking calm and casual. you over to his door, taking a deep breath before you knocked on it.

“i hope he’s home.” you thought to yourself as you waited for an answer. you stood there for a minute before you heard the lock turn, causing your heart to race in your chest. as soon as the door opened, all your dreams were crushed, a beautiful blonde woman smiling at you.

“well, this is it. she’s about to tell me she’s his partner and i’m gonna seclude myself for the rest of my life.” you thought to yourself.

“hi! im ashley, are you looking for my brother?” she asked.

“your brother? brother! yes, i am.” you nodded. she smiled and turned back into the apartment.

“austin! there’s someone here to see you.” she called. “i love your top, by the way.” she said before she moved from the door. your neighbor, who you now knew was named austin, came into view.

“well, if it isn’t the girl from apartment 511.” he said with a smile, stepping out into the hall and closing the door behind him. “i was wondering if i was ever gonna get to see you outside of us randomly seeing each other around the complex.”

“it’s nice to meet you, officially. i’m y/n.” you said, extended your hands to shake. he took your hand in his, sparks shooting up your arms as his skin made contact with yours.

“austin.” he said, the sound of his voice sending shivers up your spine. “so, what you doing tonight? my sister and i were planning on ordering dinner and watching a movie or something. would you like to join us?”

“oh, i wouldn’t want to intrude on your plans.”

“it’s not intrusion if i’m inviting you over.” he laughed. “look, i have to admit something to you.” he said taking a deep breath, “i’ve been thinking about you every day. the fleeting moments that we see each other have quickly become the highlights of my days, and i have been wanting so badly to meet you and get to know you. so, would you please come over for dinner?” he asked again.

“hmm, well, if you put it that way.” you teased him before agreeing to dinner. he invited you in, introducing you to ashley as you sat down at the table with her. the three of you perused the take out menus before deciding on what you wanted to order.

conversation quickly ensued once you began eating. you were enjoying getting to know both austin and ashley, as they were you. dinner was perfect, and you were so glad that you agreed to it.

after you finished eating, you were helping austin clean up the kitchen. you’d just finished collecting the trash, and moved back to the table to collect the dishes.

“thanks again for having me over.” you said, placing the dishes in the sink.

“thanks for agreeing.” he said softly as he began washing. you moved the his other side to help dry them.

“so, remember all that you said while we were out in the hallway?” you asked austin, and he nodded. “i have to confess that i had a lot of the same feelings. that’s really the reason i came over tonight. i was going to introduce myself and see if maybe you’d accept a dinner invitation from me.” you told him.

“looks like i beat you to it.” he laughed. “but i had such a wonderful time tonight. getting to know you was better than i’d been imagining.”

“same here.” you agreed, smiling at him. you and austin finished with the dishes, and moved to the living room where ashley had chosen a movie for the three of you to watch. it ended up being one that the three of you had seen, many many times, and ended up talking and making jokes throughout the whole movie. once it finished, you noted the time and figured it was time to get back home.

“too bad this isn’t the conventional ‘guy takes the girl home’ after a date.” you laughed as you stood outside of your front door.

“no, but it works.” austin said, smiling down at you. he took your hands in his and moved closer to you.

“so, when are we gonna do this again?” you asked, closing the space between you even more.

“any time you want. you know where i live.” he laughed.

“i’ll plan something for us, then.” you said, smiling at him. he stepped closer, and you gave him a small nod of approval before he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

kissing him was even better than you’d ben imagining. you felt crazy for admitting this, but you’d been thinking about how kissing austin would feel since the first time you laid eyes on him.

“good night, y/n.” he said with a smile when he pulled away.

“good night, austin.” you said, he leaned down and kissed you again before letting go of your hands. you watched as we walked back to his door, waving at him as he went inside.

as you sat with your thoughts, getting ready for bed, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach as you replayed the events of the night. you had the best time with austin, and you absolutely couldn’t wait to do it again.

#austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fanfiction

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gumnut-logic · 1 year

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Scott glared at his brothers.

Virgil, John and Gordon stood in a line on the comms room hardwood floor all looking straight ahead as if they were in a military inspection. Which was particularly odd since only one of them had ever been in said military.

Hell, even his grandmother was ramrod straight next to them.

Scott was absolutely beside himself. Still dressed in his uniform, complete with its coating of mud, he had no doubt that his appearance was anything but reassuring to the brothers standing in front of him.

Not that he cared. This was beyond it all.

This was so ludicrous that it was hard to even suspect Gordon as the culprit.

Though he was still the most likely despite his arm being in a sling.

Scott eyed his fish brother. He had a scratch above one eyebrow that hadn’t been there when Scott left this morning.

But then a lot was different on Tracy Island since he left this morning.

The most obvious difference was the Thunderbird stuck at an angle where the pool was supposed to be.

His ‘bird was shining in the late afternoon light, her silver hull gleaming as she sat at a sixty-degree angle just beyond the balcony, her wings gouged into the concrete of the patio.

Virgil shifted where he stood on his crutches and Scott felt the briefest flash of guilt at making him stand there. His engineer brother had been grounded for the last week with a broken ankle, along with Gordon and his broken arm. Which is why Scott had been in Two today with the currently guilt free Alan.

His youngest brother stood off to one side, apparently caught between shock and relief that he wasn’t to blame.

“I’m waiting for an explanation.” For several things.

The room still reeked of burnt furnishings. Whatever had happened in the kitchen had left it black and under a haze of smoke that had infiltrated the villa.

As if to comment, John sneezed suddenly. His space brother sniffed and screwed up his face before he realised Scott was eyeing him. He, too, was standing on crutches, something he wasn’t doing this morning.

And still no-one said anything.

Not even Grandma, and honestly that was a kicker.

“Gordon-“

“What are you looking at me for?”

Scott shot him a flat stare. “History.”

“Hey, the last time I borrowed One, I brought her back in one piece.”

“Complete with Eau de Polecat!”

“That does not automatically put me at fault. Besides this was an emergency.”

Scott blinked. A little progress. “And?”

But Gordon clammed up and went back to staring at the portraits on the far side of the room, every bit the WASP Lieutenant Tracy he actually was.

Scott turned to John, his ever-faithful source of relevant information.

“J-“

“I’m sitting down.” His space brother turned and crutched his way past Scott and into the sunken lounge without another word.

Scott stared after him.

“Honey, are you feeling okay?” His grandmother followed John and began fussing over him and his leg, both completely ignoring Scott.

What the-?

“How. Did. This. Happen?!” Okay, so he might be yelling just a little, but the cause was sufficient. He turned to his trusted first. His best friend. His brother. His Virgil.

Said brother was looking rather pale. “Virgil?”

Sad, dark eyes looked up at him. “I wanted to make you popcorn.”

-o-o-o-

Virgil was frustrated. Virgil was always frustrated when he was grounded and today sported no reason to change that attitude.

Worse, he had had to watch Scott take his ‘bird out to a mudslide. His big brother was not a fan of flying Two, but since Virgil had a busted ankle and Gordon an equally busted arm, that was the deal today.

To top it all off, mudslides sucked big time and Scott and Alan would likely come home exhausted, especially since two of their brothers were currently unavailable to assist.

So, to help just that little bit, he had spent the last couple of hours hobbling around the kitchen slapping together something that could be considered a relaxing meal for that evening, vetoing any chance of Grandma getting into the kitchen and destroying stomach linings.

It helped that Grandma was in Wellington with Kayo.

To top it off, Virgil had put together an apple pie, Scott’s favourite. He had also made sure there was a bucket of triple chocolate ice cream in the freezer for Alan – one that he had stashed away for emergencies just like this.

The last thing on his list was to make some candy popcorn for the squirt and put some kernels aside ready for popping later so they would be nice and warm for the movie.

He was in the process of heating the oil when Gordon burst into the room as if out of nowhere.

Virgil dropped a spoon.

Damn sandshoes were silent.

“Hubert’s dying!”

“What?” His back creaked as he picked up the piece of cutlery.

“Hubert, the albatross that collided with the window and broke his wing.”

“What albatross?” The oil began to smoke a little so he turned the heat off. His Gordon radar was at full alert – this would likely take a while.

“Yesterday? Upstairs? How did you not hear that?” A blink. “Okay, it was five am. You don’t exist before ten, I’m sorry.” The sarcasm was dripping and a little caustic. “Regardless, Hubert has gone limp and I think he’s dying, Virg. Help me please.” The accompanying clasped hands, reminiscent of either prayers or vigorous begging, complete with a sling that wasn’t doing what it was supposed to, were a little over the top.

“Okay. Fine. Show me the patient.” He reached over and nudged the broken arm back into its sling while Gordon glared him.

“Hurry up.”

Virgil grabbed his crutches and followed Gordon to the stairs before darting sideways and thumbing the elevator doors open.

“Okay, fine, hop-a-long.” Gordon jumped down the last few steps and hurried into the elevator with Virgil.

He bounced on his heels the entire way to the infirmary level.

Virgil watched his agitation and realised that whatever was wrong with this bird, Gordon had invested himself in it, much like every other injured animal he had dragged home since he had learnt to walk.

Gordon ushered Virgil into the infirmary and to his horror, he found the limp sea bird lying on top of one of the beds. “Gordon, have you heard of hygiene?”

“It’s fine. The sheets are clean. He’s safe.”

Virgil stared at his brother for a split second before rolling his eyes.

But Gordon’s whine drew him into examining the bird, which, considering it was avian, did not comply with the human knowledge Virgil possessed.

“I don’t really know, Gords.” Virgil stabbed at the infirmary’s computer interface, interrogating the net for baseline vitals for an albatross. Hell, he didn’t even know which species.

“It’s a Gibson’s Albatross.” Gordon was stroking the unconscious bird gently with his fingers.

This was not the first time, nor was it likely to be the last time Virgil found himself in this situation, though the species did vary. As always, his answer was. “I’m sorry, Gordon. You need a qualified vet.”

“But I set his wing. He should be getting better.” Gordon’s age regressed around animals and tended to break Virgil’s heart in the process.

“I’m sorry, Gordon.”

“For goodness sake, we’re International Rescue!” The plea in his brother’s eyes stabbed right where it hurt.

But then those eyes widened and a light bulb went off above Gordon’s head.

Or it could have been a precursor for the migraine Virgil suddenly knew he was going to end up with.

“No, Gordon.”

“But he’s dying!” Gordon grabbed Virgil by the arm. “It’s our job to save lives.”

“How exactly are we going to get him to the mainland? Neither of us can fly.” Virgil wasn’t going to admit it, but the bird didn’t look like it was going to last long enough for another family member to make it home. “I’m sorry, Gordon.” He was already calculating how to cheer up his little brother.

“No!”

He sighed. It wasn’t as if he wanted the bird to die. Hell, if he was hail and healthy, he would have already put it on Tracy Two and be halfway to Auckland by now. But there was no way he was risking himself or his brother in a plane with a broken limb. Maybe Kayo might get back in time?

But then the inevitable happened. He should have seen it coming.

“We can take Thunderbird One!”

Virgil blinked. “What? No!” God, no, Scott would kill him.

“This is a life, Virgil! What makes a bird’s any less important than a human’s? It’s his life! we have endangered it, and now we aren’t doing anything to help save it? How is that fair?” Gordon’s fists were now clenched at his sides, the sling yet again ignored. Fiery carnelian glared at Virgil. “I can’t do it with my arm, but Thunderbird One doesn’t require feet to operate.” A flicker of his eyelids. “This is on you.”

Virgil stared at his little brother.

A glance at the limp bird on the bed.

Back to Gordon, ever so fiery and passionate.

Virgil reached down, uncurled Gordon’s fist and pulled the sling back into place.

Ten minutes later he found himself doing what he did every time this kind of situation happened.

Thunderbird One launched with Virgil at the helm and Gordon clutching a desperately ill albatross in the back seat.

-o-o-o-

Scott stared at his second eldest brother, the man with whom he trusted so much. Virgil had literally held Scott’s life in his hands on several occasions.

“You borrowed One to take an injured bird to the vet.”

Virgil shifted where he stood. “It was to save a life.”

Scott turned to the lounge and glared at John. “And you let him fly with a broken ankle?”

John returned the glare with equal strength. “Are you kidding me? This is Virgil we’re talking about. I thought One was safer in his hands than yours.”

“What?!”

“It’s not like he’s going to do anything stupid with your ‘bird, is he?”

There were no words, so Scott just gestured in the direction of the pool.

With both hands.

“Yeah, well, probabilities can’t predict everything.”

The flippant, non-answer went straight to Scott’s head and rattled around in there for a moment or two before he chose to file it for later or risk implosion. John was rubbing at his foot and Scott latched onto it to save his sanity. “How did you hurt yourself?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, the kitchen caught fire. Kayo had already been called out again and I was worried about Grandma.”

“And?”

“I tripped.”

“Over what?”

“My own feet! It’s not every day you see Thunderbird One get stuck in the pool!” John glared at Scott. “Cahelium on concrete is very loud.”

Scott stared at him, not willing to face the image those words inflicted on him.

“Why was the kitchen on fire?”

But then something Virgil had said popped into his mind. He couldn’t help it, he rubbed his face with his hand. “Grandma, why didn’t you wait for Virgil to get home?”

“He left the popcorn on the counter, dear, I was trying to help.” Grandma wasn’t looking at him. John’s leg appeared to need a good rub right at this very moment.

John was wincing.

But with that explained, Scott had no choice but to turn back to Virgil, who was still standing clinging to his crutches.

Why hadn’t he sat down? He was ever so very sorry looking and Scott’s heart melted at the edges.

“Virgil, what happened?”

Brown eyes slowly peered up at him.

God, did he really have to deploy that little brother expression. Thunderbird One was down for the count, stuck in the damned pool and the brother responsible wasn’t even letting him stay angry. Goddamnit! How does a thirty-year-old man regress to six-year-old like that? Those eyes were the same eyes Virgil deployed that time he crashed Scott’s bicycle.

As if in answer, something whacked Scott’s thigh.

Ow! “What the hell?”

Looking down he found an extremely large seagull with a bandaged wing glaring up at him. Their eyes met and it squawked.

Very loudly.

“Hubert! What are you doing down here?” And suddenly, there was a race on around the comms room, Gordon chasing the waddling bird as it methodically thumped everyone with its wings, took out a pot plant and to Scott’s horror, one of Dad’s souvenirs. Both toppled with a crash as Gordon continued to chase Hubert around the room.

Alan joined him a moment later.

Part of Scott wanted to yell the building down, but most of him just wanted to know how the hell his ‘bird had ended up stuck halfway into her launch bay.

So, he turned back to Virgil and asked again, perhaps a little louder over the ruckus as the stupid bird scrambled over John in its eagerness to torture everyone.

He approached his brother carefully and placed a hand on each arm. “Virg, what happened?”

“It was an accident. I’m sorry, Scott.”

“That much is obvious. What malfunctioned?”

Brown eyes were suddenly not looking at him.

“Virgil?”

His brother straightened a little. “You have too many damned levers.”

“What?”

He seemed to be saying that a lot today.

“I pushed the wrong lever, okay? It’s on the left on Two and One has it on the right and I yanked on it to slow and the wings deployed. Wrong lever, sorry, okay?”

Scott stared at Virgil, his jaw slowly dropping as his hands lost their grip on his brother and just hovered mid-air beside him. “You used the wrong lever?”

“Yeah, sorry, my bad.” Virgil was looking at his feet. “Can I sit down now?”

Scott’s mouth was still open and he had to force himself to close it. “Sure.” So his voice was a little bit higher than normal…

Virgil didn’t hesitate, clutching his crutches and hurriedly tapping his way over to the lounge.

Behind Scott there was a sudden crash and the sound of breaking glass as both Alan and a bird squawked at the same time.

Scott didn’t turn to look. He just stood staring at his ‘bird, still gleaming in the late afternoon sun, still sticking out of the pool.

His jaw may have dropped just a little again.

But nothing more was said.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #John Tracy #Alan Tracy #nuttyfic reblog #yeah I know its another reblog #cos I haven't written a thing #and this one is worth a laugh after working 9am - 8pm #my life may be perfect but I reserve the right to whinge

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rattleroze · 7 months

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Bedwarmer

Rating: General Pairing: Terzo/Dewdrop Contains: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff Words: 1077

Below the cut or Read on Ao3

Dew was woken by his phone chirping at him from the nightstand.

Ideally, he would ignore it, at most reaching over to turn the ringer off before rolling over and going back to sleep. He wasn’t a fan of being woken up by anything, really, and anyone who knew him was aware of that. Even the occasional “U up?” text wasn’t alluring enough to drag him out of bed nine times out of ten. When Dew went to bed, it generally meant he was unavailable for the next 6 to 10 hours, with vanishingly few exceptions.

However.

Dew had a terrible habit of caring. Too much. It came with being the alpha, even if he was so detached from that title that it was essentially meaningless. He needed to take care of his pack.

And being his pack, most of them knew better than to text him in the middle of the night. Which meant it was either someone who didn’t, or it was important.

Either way, he could hardly stop himself from groping around on the nightstand until he found the offending device and squinted against the harsh light of the screen until he could make sense of the words on it. He sat up as soon as they swam into focus, suddenly feeling much more awake.

Three little words from Terzo. Are you awake?

Next to him, he could hear a tiny grumble from Sunshine as she protested the loss of his body heat and turned over to snuggle closer to Swiss and escape the disruptive light of the phone screen. Dew turned the brightness down as far as it would go and continued to stare at the message.

He could ignore it. Pretend he didn’t see it, that it hadn’t woken him at all and hope that whatever it was could wait until the morning. But Terzo didn’t text anyone, really. He certainly didn’t text Dew, either now or during his papacy, as was evidenced by their conversation history which could be generously described as sparse. If Terzo wanted to see him, he would typically just ask someone to pass on a message or otherwise make himself obvious somewhere where they were bound to run into each other. Or, on particularly strange occasions, Dew would seek him out on a hunch. He’d just get a feeling that pulled him to Terzo like a fish on a line.

And despite the obviousness of the message in front of him, Dew started to feel that tug in his gut.

Yeah was his reply. He rolled out of bed before he got another response, fumbling around for a pair of sweatpants on the floor on his way out into the common room.

The dorms were quiet, predictably, as he padded out into the corridor. His phone buzzed again in the pocket of the pants he was very quickly realizing were probably Sunny’s. Oh well. He cinched the drawstrings tighter to keep them from slipping off his skinny hips before checking the message.

Can I see you?

The tug got stronger, and Dew felt his brain frantically flipping through worst-case scenarios before he shook his head a little to disperse them. On my way, He texted instead, feet already carrying him automatically on the path to Terzo’s rooms.

There was almost no light shining through the glass of Terzo’s front door when he arrived, only moonlight from the balcony door dimly illuminating the living room. He crossed the room silently, pausing to listen outside the bedroom before knocking softly. “Terzo? It’s me,” He called, worrying for the handful of moments that passed before he heard a response

He found Terzo curled up on the couch in his bedroom, wrapped up in a blanket, watching the smoldering remains of a fire in the fireplace. He perked up slightly when Dew came in and shut the door behind him, but the emotion dominating his face seemed to be guilt.

“Hey,” He said softly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Dew answered immediately, coming around the back of the couch to get a better look at his face, searching for illness or injury. Terzo tipped his head back against the couch, gazing up at him sadly. His face was damp with tears, and he looked exhausted. Dew swiped them away gently. “What’s wrong?”

Terzo sniffled, reaching up to cradle Dew’s face in his hands. They were cold and trembling. “Nothing really, I’m okay. Just had a stupid dream, that’s all.” He tried a laugh, but it didn’t sound right. Dew’s brow furrowed, and he covered Terzo’s hands with his own.

“You’re freezing. Let me help.”

Terzo scoffed, waving him away, but also made no move to stop him when Dew rounded the couch to put more wood on the fire, pulling it back to life with his element. He shifted his position to sit back against the arm of the couch, so Dew could settle between his legs with his head on his chest and bump up his body temperature to warm him even further. Terzo smiled softly at the scratchy little purr he let out, and resigned himself to petting through his beloved ghoul’s hair as he was all but forcefully cared for. He pressed a kiss between Dew’s horns, breathing in the now-familiar scent of woodsmoke and tobacco that stuck to him.

Dew was the first one to speak, after a long stretch of comfortable silence. “What was your dream about?” He asked, not bothering to lift his head until Terzo hadn’t answered for a few beats. He rested his chin on Terzo’s chest, gazing up at him with no urgency.

Terzo sighed softly, fingers absently tracing the sharper lines of Dew’s face– his cheekbones, his jawline, the ridge of his nose. Anything to avoid direct eye contact, however impossible it seemed in this position. “I lost you,” He said simply after what felt like an hour. It was the most bare-bones explanation of what his subconscious had decided to torture him with, but even so he could still feel another round of tears welling up. “I lost everything, and I had no idea what to do with myself.”

Dew nodded, smushing his face against Terzo’s chest again. His arms curled around his back tightly. “I’m not going anywhere,” He stated firmly, and Terzo couldn’t help but smile. He kissed Dew’s head again.

“You know I love you, don’t you?” He murmured. Dew nodded again.

“‘Course I do. I love you too.”

#ghost bc #ghost band #ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfic #papa emeritus iii #dewdrop ghoul #nameless ghouls #terzo/dewdrop #hurt/comfort

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late-moonie-thoughts · 3 months

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Moonie Diary 003

This week was a week. It started off some anxiety, there were good conversations, and I realized that I needed to reach out to some of my friends more often.

The anxiety attack was on Monday when I had to deep breathe and brain dump myself out of it. Wednesday, one of my friends told me that she felt like she was in an unfair situation, and she was frustrated about it. She had been complaining about it since it started, but for some reason, I didn't find it annoying. Friday was when I found out why - she had decided that she'd move back home and away from the people who had her in the unfair situation. So I'm glad about that I love seeing my friends choose themselves first.

On the same day, I went to see two friends, one of whom was apparently attending a funeral. I realized that I needed to check in more often so that I could keep up with my friends.

Now, I've had this issue for the longest time - which is expressing emotion while manifesting. A lot of the time, I think I need to not express my feelings because they're so contrary to what I'm supposed to be affirming. This then makes me panic a whole lot because then the emotions go to my thoughts and I end up automatically affirming what I don't want, then I spiral, and then I need to take a couple of days to calm down, and so on. It's not fun.

I was watching a Sammy Ingram video today, and she said that in her own process, she lets her feelings out and then goes straight back into affirming, knowing that her manifestations will still come despite her having expressed her feelings.

And that suddenly made sense to me. Like yes, some situations can be frustrating. It's ok to feel angry. It's ok to want to vent out these frustrating feelings. It's ok to rant about the fact that you feel all these shitty things, just as long as when you're done, you get back up and continue affirming, knowing that things will still be fine.

This is how I managed stuff in university. Sometimes you need to cry from the stress, and then once you're done, you continue the assignment. And logically, this is how I've done a lot of things. You have to emotionally regulate, but don't let your feelings take you over.

That and, I realized I don't brunch a whole lot, like I should. People's opinions are not my business and I don't think I should be living by everyone else's metrics. Like I don't want kids right now, or to get married immediately. I don't care that other people are suffering, or that they think the things I want are unavailable. My only responsibility is to do the things that make me happy and take care of myself.

Oh manifestations: I got $200, and found back my lip oil and bluetooth headset which went missing last week, as well as my SP messaged me again.

Songs I've been listening to: A Girl's Feelings Slowed 1 hour loop, the Moana Soundtrack, and a fushigi yuugi love song playlist.

#late night thoughts #self care #dear diary #moonie diary #thoughts

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duhragonball · 11 months

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[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (207/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: This story This story takes place about 1000 years before 66 years after 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

[2 February, 238 Before Age. Dorlu Prime.]

Less than thirty-six hours ago, Luffa had been battling for the fate of the Time Patrol in the distant future. Then she found herself in a featureless void, which led her to Dorlu Prime, five years in her own past. Now, as she struggled to make sense of it all, her surroundings changed once again, and the man behind her predicament greeted her with an insincere smile.

"Demigra!" Luffa shouted. "Then this was an illusion, and you're a fool if you thought it would stop me!"

She had been standing in her apartment on Dorlu Prime. The Dorlun settlement had hired her family to help defend it from the Tikosi, but in practice, Luffa's father and husband spent most of their time patrolling the sector, while Luffa stayed behind to watch over their clients. The Dorluns had provided her with living quarters to use while her ship was unavailable, and Luffa had come here to think when Demigra had suddenly appeared. As she leaped across the room to attack, the walls and sparse furniture faded away, leaving in their place an dark expanse. Crystalline shards, each as large as a humanoid, floated in midair like chunks of ice drifting across an ocean.

Luffa barely noticed any of this, as she was singularly focused on her enemy. Yet, as she drew closer, he made no move to defend himself, and when she tried to tackle him, she found herself flying through Demigra, as if he were a phantom.

"So predictable," Demigra scoffed as Luffa went tumbling onward. She let her momentum carry her for a short distance, then somersaulted and flew back the way she came. The result was the same, except when she flew through Demigra's body this time, she turned back and fired a ki blast at his face. But this also passed through him with no effect.

"I would think the point has been made," Demigra said idly. "But if you insist on trying that again, I suppose I can wait a while longer."

"What have you done, Demigra?!" Luffa shouted as she floated in front of him. Despite being unable to touch him, she still balled her fists in a threatening pose anyway, as though she could defeat him through sheer determination.

"Oh, come now," Demigra said. "You make it sound like I've hurt you in some way. I thought if I gave you some time to acclimate to your new surroundings, you would understand that it's for your own benefit. I had hoped you might even show some gratitude, but it seems you believe we are still enemies."

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Luffa demanded. "You turned the entire Time Patrol into your personal army of slaves, and forced me to beat Trunks half to death to snap him out of it! And then, when you couldn't turn me into one of your puppets, you tried to destroy the whole Time Nest!"

"I have destroyed the Time Nest," Demigra corrected.

"What?" Luffa asked.

"The Time Nest," Demigra said. "It's gone. The battle between us is over. I've already won."

Luffa turned her head and spat. Normally her phlegm would hit the ground, but in this bizarre expanse, it just continued to fall, perhaps forever.

"How stupid do you think I am?" she shouted. "If you destroyed the Time Nest, then all of history would be destroyed along with it! Chronoa said so, and you didn't deny it!"

"Of course not," Demigra said with a smirk. "History was destroyed. Why do you think you're not in the Time Nest right now? No, I can see that you don't handle rhetorical questions very well, so I'll just save you the trouble: You aren't in the Time Nest because I destroyed it, and it no longer exists. It never existed. The history in which it was built has been erased. All that remains of that timeline are you and I, and our memories of that former world."

"You're bluffing," Luffa seethed.

"Why bluff when I've already won the game? I'm a god now, Luffa, the only god left in this universe! Everyone who could have stopped me no longer exists."

"Then why am I still here, Demigra?" Luffa asked. "Because as long as I'm still breathing, it's not over between us."

"Which brings me to the purpose of this little visit," Demigra said. "I've come to negotiate a settlement, Luffa."

"Why negotiate when you've already won the war?" Luffa asked, imitating Demigra's snide tone.

"Because I recognize that you won't accept defeat so easily," Demigra replied. "I had to erase the Time Patrol, but you're different Luffa. They drafted you into their ranks, and I'm willing to offer you more favorable terms. So tell me, have you enjoyed your return to Dorlu Prime?"

Luffa's impulse was to respond with more defiant posturing, but when he said "Dorlu Prime", she suddenly found that she had nothing to say. "What are you talking about?" she finally asked.

"It's no illusion," Demigra said. "It's not a fantasy or a dream. Nor is it one of those 'Parallel Quests' as you call them. It is the real Dorlu Prime, of 238 Before Age, to use the Earthling calendar."

Luffa shook her head. "You're lying," she said. "Things are different in that world. I've seen the changes myself."

"Yes, it was rather unfortunate what happened to the Tikosi, wasn't it?" Demigra said.

Luffa's eyes went wide as the realization struck her like a bolt of lightning. "You killed them," she said. "Father said it looked like the Tikosi all turned on each other. He thought they had all gone mad, but it was you. You used your magic to make them fight one another, just like you did with the Time Patrol!"

"Well, I could hardly allow them to capture you again," Demigra said with a smile.

"Why?" Luffa asked. "Why are you doing this?"

"I'm doing this," Demigra explained, "because this is my destiny, and I will do anything to make it into a reality."

Several large crystals now drifted around Demigra and Luffa, and as their facets glowed with a preternatural light, images began to appear in their surfaces.

"I'm sure Chronoa told you her side of the story," Demigra began. "A tale of the Divine Tokitoki Bird, and how the Kais chose her to be his guardian. Mechikabura was older and more experienced, but he sought to use the power of Tokitoki for his own gain. He was banished, and sealed away in what became known as the Demon Realm."

"So they made Chronoa the Supreme Kai of Time," Luffa said. "And not long after, you tried to screw with Tokitoki too, and got banished yourself."

"True," Demigra said. "The difference is that I understood the true potential of Tokitoki. Mechikabura only wanted to extend his lifespan, and increase his power. But I knew Tokitoki could give me control over all of creation. And because of my knowledge of the workings of time, Chronoa could not risk sending me to the Demon Realm. Instead, she banished me to the Crack of Time, a place where I would be unable to meddle with the flow of history."

"But you found a way," Luffa said.

"What the Kais never understood was the the true power of ambition. They already rule over the universe, and want for nothing. Beings like Mechikabura and myself have always managed to prosper by using less powerful beings to support us. We fulfill their lesser ambitions, and they help us achieve our greater ones. Mechikabura had his Dark Empire, and demons like Towa have their lesser underlings, and I had my own disciples and lackeys. They were the ones who helped me interact with the outer universe during my long imprisonment in the Crack of Time. Through them, I was able to gather the knowledge I would need, not only to escape, but to triumph!"

"So while she thought you were ancient history, you spent all those millions of years plotting against her," Luffa said. "What does this have to do with me?"

"Simply this," Demigra replied. "In preparing for my escape from the Crack of Time, I considered every possible contingency. These crystals floating around us are natural formations in this place. They may seem inert, but they actually resonate with chronal energies. Eventually, I learned to use them to see what was happening in the outer universe. I could look to the distant past, or glimpse possible futures. Including yours, Luffa."

He gestured with his outstretched hand, and Luffa noticed the crystals displaying more familiar images. Before they had only shown strange worlds and unknown people but now she saw places and people she knew. The scenes would only last a moment or two before changing to some other event. Luffa thought she saw her mother in one of them, but before she could look closer, it suddenly changed to show a meadow on Hexil VI. Then she saw an enemy soldier she had killed in battle years ago. Then the Camelian Senate in session. Then a dam being built on Planet Wist. And then Luffa saw herself as a Super Saiyan, slaughtering the Tikosi on their Hiveworld.

"Then you claim to know everything about me?" Luffa asked. "Seems like you wouldn't have underestimated me so badly when we fought in Toki Toki City."

"I can see almost anything from here," Demigra said. "The problem is that it's too much information to sift through. So no, I don't know everything about you, Luffa. But I learned what I needed to know."

"Give me a strong ally! Someone with the kind of power to help me defend time itself! This wish I ask of you, Shenron!"

Luffa looked over to find Trunks in one of the crystals. He stood before the altar in Toki Toki City, making a wish before the Eternal Dragon, Shenron. The Dragon's eyes glowed red, and then a figure began to materialize.

"I didn't know you got audio on these things, too," Luffa said.

"I had to reconstruct that one from outside reports," Demigra said. "Toki Toki City was one of the few places where my vision was limited, but I still learned what I needed. Trunks wished for an ally, and that ally was you, Luffa. Once I confirmed your identity, I could study your past, and see what sort of threat you would be."

"And you caused those time anomalies to test me in the present, didn't you?" Luffa said. "I mean, sure, you needed them to weaken the seal keeping you trapped in the Crack of Time, but besides that, it helped you take my measure."

"True, though there was little need for that," Demigra said. "Your power was diminished after Shenron brought you forward in time, and while you recovered quickly, it was easier for me to witness your power in the past."

There was another crystal, which showed Luffa as a giant ape, glowing yellow like molten iron. Surrounded by magma and broken enemies, she raised her bestial head to the sky and howled with righteous fury.

Luffa tried not to wince at the crystal as the image shifted to the explosion that destroyed Planet Nagaoka. It was the height of her strength, but she had lost control of her ki by combining her Super Saiyan and Oozaru forms. The thought of looking at the full moon again still bothered her.

Then the image changed again, to show Luffa lying naked on a broken chunk of Nagaoka's crust. A faint force field protected her from the vacuum of space, but she was too exhausted to save herself. Then, suddenly, she vanished in a flash of light, echoing the same effect seen earlier, when Shenron granted Trunks' wish.

Luffa turned to Demigra and raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Is this what you do in your spare time, Demigra?" she asked. "You look up moments in time where I blew off all my clothes?"

Demigra made a mirthless snort. "You can use all the humor you like to mask your trepidation," he said. "It doesn't matter how you react. What matters is that I understood your perspective, Luffa. Time and again, I found you caught in moments like this one. Glorious triumphs, coupled with humiliating despair."

What Luffa saw next in the crystals came as no surprise, but she still shuddered at the images they revealed.

In one crystal, there was Luffa, on the bridge of the Emerald Eye, learning that her alliance to destroy the Jindan Cult had collapsed. Her son had betrayed her for the final time, and there would be no final assault on the Jindan base of operations, unless she dared to fight alone.

In another crystal, Luffa saw herself drifting through the upper atmosphere of Pflaume II. The city state that once floated through the skies of the ice giant had been utterly destroyed, leaving Luffa stranded in a hostile environment with no hope of escape or rescue.

In a third crystal, Luffa saw herself on Extraliga, moments after defeating the Shockmaster. It was to be the greatest victory of her life, but her wife had been badly injured and left in a coma, while their dear friend Keda had been lost without a trace.

A fourth crystal showed Luffa on the Plant Wist, moments after her first encounter with the Shockmaster. The mighty warrior had been the first to defeat her since her ascension to Super Saiyan. Worse, he had refused to kill her, leaving her to languish in the shame of knowing her legendary power was found wanting.

The fifth crystal saw Luffa wandering the crimson fields of the Makyo Star, a rogue planet illuminated only by the bioluminescent glow of fungal stalks that covered much of its surface. Lost in her own private madness, her eyes burned red and her blood ran hot from the Black Water Mist that had taken hold in her mind and body. Corrupted as she was, Luffa eagerly submitted herself to the eternal servitude of the demons who lived on the Makyo Star. Their ruler, Wildthyme, found it amusing to have the galaxy's ultimate warrior patrolling his planet like a guard dog.

Then there was the sixth, which only showed Luffa screaming herself hoarse in the shadows of the Tikosi laboratory.

Though Luffa took a moment to look, she did not bother to linger on any of these unwanted memories. Instead, she focused her gaze on Demigra.

"I knew right away what a person like you would want," Demigra said. "What would desire more than anything," he said. "It was the one thing I knew Chronoa could never give you."

"You altered history," Luffa said. "You sent me back to a time before the Tikosi captured me, then you made them kill each other so that it would never happen. The suffering, the treachery, the loss..."

"You know as well as I do that Chronoa would never allow you to make such a drastic change in your own past," Demigra said. "It would do harm to the rest of the timestream. But that no longer matters, because I erased the rest of the timestream when I destroyed the Time Nest."

"Are you telling me," Luffa asked, "that you went out of your way to preserve a piece of history, just to give me chance to live my life over again?"

"It was an interesting challenge for my new abilities," Demigra said. "Now that I've absorbed Tokitoki, I'm beginning to find that there is very little I cannot do with the fabric of time."

"That still doesn't answer the question," Luffa said. "Why would you bother with this at all? And why do it for me? Why not just kill me, or use your powers to make my parents kill each other before I was born?"

Demigra chuckled. "I keep forgetting the mortal perspective," he said. "Your lives are so brief that you cannot grasp the timescales of gods."

"I know, I know," Luffa said. "Seventy-five million years. Enlighten me."

"As I said, I left nothing to chance when I planned my conquest," Demigra said. "Any possibility of failure had to be eliminated. Using projections and forecasts, I could anticipate possible outcomes. In some cases, I could predict the future more literally, using divination techniques. Looking back, it all seems so... crude to me now. I have become so much more..."

"Then why didn't you just divine a way to defeat me?" Luffa asked skeptically.

"Because no matter how hard I tried," Demigra said, "I was unable to see beyond a certain date. April 21, Age 850."

It took Luffa a moment to catch on. "Oh, right," she finally said. "The day you destroyed the Time Nest. There can't be an April 22, because you destroyed it."

"Exactly," Demigra said. "The End of History, the ultimate proof that my triumph was inevitable. For once I became a true god of time, I would create a new history, one much more suited to my liking. But I couldn't find a way to eliminate you as a threat. Any measure I came up with would lead to the collapse of my victory. After all, without you, Towa and Mira would have erased Trunks from history, which would have altered the formation of the Time Patrol. And I needed you to lead Beerus to the Time Nest, so that he could carry my enchantment into the city and enslave the Patrollers."

"So you couldn't get this far without me," Luffa said. "But now that you've gotten this far, I could still be a threat..."

"There's no way to know," Demigra said. "I couldn't predict what would happen after I destroyed the Time Nest. Time is fluid now, waiting eagerly for my divine will to shape it into being. And since I couldn't kill or erase you beforehand, I knew I would have to deal with you now."

He turned his back on her and walked along the emptiness of the Crack of Time, gesturing towards the crystals that floated in the distance. "As I see it, you have only two choices. You can continue to oppose me, and perhaps you can find a way to defeat me. I doubt you have much of a chance, but the fact remains, you have a chance, however small. Shenron chose you to fulfill Trunks' wish. Perhaps he saw something in you that I cannot."

"Perhaps," Luffa said, clenching her fists.

"I won't throw away my hard-fought victory on a gamble, Luffa," Demigra said. "That's why I haven't destroyed you already. You Saiyans have an annoying tendency to discover hidden potential within yourselves. The Tikosi underestimated you. I won't make the same mistake. But even if I refuse to fight you, you could still choose to attack me. That is why I've come to negotiate a settlement, Luffa. That's your second choice, Luffa, and I want to make it as attractive to you as possible."

"Let me get this straight," Luffa asked. "You won't kill me because you think there's some tiny risk that I'll ruin your plan. So you created a whole other timeline for me to live in, just so I'll leave you alone?"

"As I destroyed the Time Nest, I made sure to secure a fragment of the original history," Demigra explained. "It's not a recreation of Dorlu Prime. It's the real thing, just as you remembered it, but without the Tikosi to spoil it for you."

"You said you'd create a new history," Luffa said. "Or was that just an idle threat?"

"I will create a new history, Luffa," Demigra said. "It will proceed independently of the one I made for you. I only need your world to carry on for a few centuries, or however long you expect to live."

"Then what?" Luffa asked pointedly. "You just erase everyone else in there?"

"If that troubles you, then I can make other arrangements," he said. "Fifteen billion years. Is that long enough a legacy for you?"

"How would I know you'd honor that?" Luffa asked.

"Are you asking me for immortality, Luffa?" Demigra asked.

"No, I'm just trying to--"

"How could you ever be sure that Chronoa wouldn't simply pull the plug on all of existence?" Demigra asked. "You're going to have to trust me to some extent. I would think that what you've seen so far would demonstrate good faith."

"All right, all right," Luffa said. "I'm just having a hard time wrapping my head around all this. You're going to run off and be God of your own universe, and leave me in another one. And what am I supposed to do with myself?"

"Anything you please," Demigra said. "I don't have any stuffy rules and constraints, unlike Chronoa and the other Kaioshin. The world I have set aside for you is yours, Luffa. Tikosi aside, I will not interfere. You may live your life as you wish, unencumbered by the burdens of the Super Saiyan form. Or you can train and fight to your heart's content, and achieve the Super Saiyan transformation in your own way. Or you can settle down on Dorlu Prime and start a family."

"Just like that, huh?" Luffa said. "You think it's that simple?"

"I think you and I want the same thing, Luffa," Demigra replied. "When I first sought to usurp the power of Tokitoki, I wanted to alter the course of history to suit my purposes. I accepted my banishment in the Crack of Time, because I knew that it would not matter in the end. When I am finished, the banishment will have never happened. My fondest desires will be realized. I am offering to share that opportunity with you. I could make you a goddess to rule alongside me, but we both know that holds no interest for you. You're a mortal, who treasures mortal values. Strength. Family. Self-actualization. Fine. Have your humdrum little life. I won't quarrel with your narrow vision."

"You're forgetting," Luffa said. "I made a promise to the God of Destruction. You insulted his honor, and I offered to serve as the instrument of his retribution. I can't just let an obligation like that slide. What would Lord Beerus say?"

Demigra shook his head. "The Lord Beerus you knew," he said, "no longer exists. I suppose he would still remain in the world I left for you, but he has no memory of any dealings you had with him in the 9th Century Age. Those events no longer transpired. They were erased when I destroyed the Time Nest. The insult you pledged to avenge... Hmph. It simply never occurred."

"And the Time Patrol?" Luffa demanded.

"The same," Demigra said. "In your new life, the year is 238 Before Age. The Time Patrol doesn't exist. Trunks and Son Goku won't be born for another thousand years."

"I still remember them," Luffa insisted.

"Then you remember this as well, no doubt!" Demigra said.

Suddenly, the crystal closest to Luffa displayed a new vision of the old history. The planet was unfamiliar to her, but the spaceship in low orbit was not. She had seen the craft before, during a Time Patrol mission on Planet Namek. And she had also seen the alien who emerged from the ship, riding in a personal hover-carrier. With an arrogant smirk, he raised the index finger of his right hand, and formed a tiny spark of ki energy from his fingertip. Like a miniature star, the ball of ki shone a bright, baleful orange, and then it expanded, rapidly swelling up until it dwarfed even the starship beneath it. And then, with a sadistic cackle and a flick of the wrist, Frieza launched the giant fireball straight towards the planet. Then he watched with glee, laughing as the ball of ki exploded on contact with the planet's surface. Bright lines appeared on the disc of the planet, like cracks in a pane of glass. The cracks spread, and then, finally, disastrously, the entire planet exploded, leaving nothing but broken bits of its crust, and white hot iron-nickel vapor from its interior.

And as the force of the explosion buffeted the starship, showering it in sparks of molten debris, the alien continued to laugh, enjoying the spectacle like a child watching a fireworks show.

Luffa waited for the planet's remains to fade into darkness, then looked back at Demigra.

"Frieza destroyed Planet Vegeta," he said, "dooming your entire species to extinction. I've erased that tragedy as well, along with countless other disasters that you never even knew about. By accepting my terms, Luffa, you not only give yourself a second chance, but the rest of the universe as well."

"No," Luffa said. "This is all some kind of trick. You're just trying to confuse me."

"I knew it would be difficult for you to accept the situation," Demigra said. "That was why I arranged for you to see Dorlu Prime for yourself. I wanted you to experience it firsthand before I explained what I had done. I would have allowed you to go on experiencing it, but then you found that scroll, and so I had to step in."

"The scroll?" Luffa asked. She had nearly forgotten it. On Dorlu Prime, she had noticed what looked like the Scroll of Eternity, glowing in a forgotten corner of her quarters. She had reached out for it when Demigra suddenly appeared, and brought her to the Crack of Time.

Demigra nodded. "As I said, Luffa, you have a choice. The world I left for you is a cession, not a prison. You're free to leave at any time. The scroll is your doorway to my world. I have allowed you to see into my world, but we appear to each other as phantoms, unable to touch one another. But if you choose to take up the scroll, you will be brought to me in person, and we may renew hostilities."

"A battle I'm sure to lose," Luffa said. "According to you, at least."

"You asked how you could trust me, Luffa," Demigra said. "The simple truth is that I don't need your trust. If you think this is a trick, then go ahead. Take the scroll, and fight for a world that no longer exists. Win, if you can. But if I were in your position, I would take my time before deciding. Think long and hard about the opportunity I'm giving you. Think about what it would mean to give that up, only to die for a useless cause."

He raised his hand, and his bone scepter appeared in his palm. The red crystal ball at the head of the scepter began to glow, and the Crack of Time began to fade away.

"Think about it, Luffa," he said again. "Or if the dilemma is too much for you, then act impulsively. Take the scroll, and fight a battle that you will almost certainly lose. It's all the same to me, really. The choice is yours..."

Luffa stepped toward him, holding out her hand as though to ask him to wait. But she said nothing. There was nothing more to say. Demigra's position was as clear as it was ever going to be.

As the Crack of Time vanished around her, Luffa found herself back in her quarters. The Scroll was still there, tucked away in the cabinet. She knelt down and examined it closely. Then she sat down on her cot, and stared at it for a long time. She wasn't sure how long. The sunbeams from the windows had time to drift across the wall.

"It's over, then," she finally said to herself.

This was the only certainty of it all. One way or another, her time as the Legendary Super Saiyan was finished. She could either start over in this place, or take her chances against Demigra, but there seemed to be no way back.

Now that the truth about this world was revealed, she felt silly for having played along with it. She had tried to avoid doing anything that would give away her knowledge of the future, but now it didn't seem to matter. The future she knew was no more. And the future that lay ahead was unwritten. All the half-formed plans she had shared with Kandai and Zatte had just been idle conversation, fabricated to keep them from getting suspicious. But now...

Maybe she hadn't been fabricating those ideas after all.

Perhaps, without realizing it, Luffa had begun to accept that she was stranded in this place. And she had already started to make choices about how to start over. It was easy enough to plan. All she had to do was keep the things from her old life that she enjoyed, and steer clear of the things that had gone wrong.

And with the Tikosi out of the picture, that seemed very easy to do.

It was all very tempting. In spite of this, she still felt the urge to grab the scroll and be done with it all. And yet... the scroll wasn't going anywhere. She could exercise that option at any time. What was the hurry?

As she mulled it over, she heard something outside. Footsteps, but lighter and more scattered than the typical pedestrian traffic that walked through the Dorlun settlement. These were children, and the sound of their laughter and playful chatter confirmed it at once.

Luffa might have ignored them, but she heard a familiar voice among them, and she stood up on her bed to look out the small windows that ran along the wall, just below the ceiling. She could see them clearly. Five Dorlun children, three boys and two girls. They all had long red hair and blue skin. Once upon a time, Luffa had trouble telling them apart, but one in particular stood out very well.

It was Keda. Nine years old. Alive and safe.

Keda had lived a strange life in the history Luffa remembered. After the Tikosi massacred the colony, Keda stowed away on their ship and infiltrated their Hiveworld. She then organized a rescue mission to free Luffa from their captivity. Afterward, Keda became something like Luffa's personal assistant, maintaining her finances and handling various functions on her ship. Then Keda sacrificed herself to save Luffa, Zatte, and the entire population of Extraliga. Luffa had thought Keda had died, but when she joined the Time Patrol, she soon discovered that a strange twist of fate had sent Keda to the era of Son Goku. She settled on Earth, where she started a family. The last time Luffa had seen her, it was on the streets of West City, where Keda had lived to a ripe old age.

It all seemed very unfair, though Luffa had no idea what should have been done about it. The Supreme Kai of Time had promised to "consider" the situation, but it seemed to Luffa that Chronoa's hands were tied. There were rules surrounding time travel, and Chronoa had to enforce those rules. What was best for Keda could not outweigh the good of the entire universe.

But now! Now there was no universe. At least, not the one Chronoa had been concerned about. There was Keda, young and happy, and free to live her life without the burden of Luffa's failures.

Demigra was wrong, then. This wasn't just a second chance for Luffa. It was a second chance for Keda as well.

For all of them.

Was it right to deny them that chance? She could imagine what Chronoa or Trunks might say to that question, but their rules no longer applied. And while Luffa could accept an honorable death fighting an opponent like Demigra, could she accept what that would mean for the Dorluns?

By the time she got down from the cot and opened her door, two more children hand joined the group, and they had begun playing with an inflatable ball. When they saw Luffa, a few of them took a step back, and one even took cover behind an older boy. The children of the colony had always been fascinated with Luffa. They were frightened by the other Saiyans, but her constant presence in the settlement, and her eagerness to cook for them had made her more approachable. They saw her as a sort of gruff-but-friendly monster.

Even Keda seemed slightly nervous, but she maintained eye contact as she saw Luffa step outside. In this era, they knew each other, but not as well as Luffa had known Zatte.

"Hi, Luffa," Keda said. "Sorry if we were disturbing you."

She wanted to rush over and embrace Keda. As it was, she barely managed to suppress a smile. A lump was forming in the back of her throat. She wondered if this was how it had been for Trunks, when he first traveled into the past.

"It's fine," she said with a wave of her hand. "I was just... I was wondering if I could join you guys..."

NEXT: For the Saiyan Who Has Everything...

#dragon ball #fanfiction #luffa #lssjluffafic #dorlu prime #demigra #keda

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shittyfknpoetry · 1 year

Text

Bread crumbs

I don’t know why I did him that favor…

He’s a complete stranger, and an asshole at that.

He sags his pants, and says vulgar things.

He parties too much for my taste.

He’s an effortless womanizer.

But I see through that.

So why did I do him that favor?

I can’t tell if he’s a master manipulator.

Or if he’s an emotionally unavailable kid.

Either way, he’s been bread crumbing me.

And like a scrawny, tired pigeon.

I peck at the crumbs eagerly.

Even when I’ve already had enough

I feel the incessant need to save him.

To save him from himself.

I have the urge to tame him like the brazen, wild-eyed animal whose skin he wears.

Our first video call.

He was high enough for the both of us.

Everything he said seemed like it exhausted him.

His eyes were hardly able to bare their own weight.

He had taken far too much.

His body went into survival mode.

A normal person would hang up.

A normal person would put down the phone.

A normal person would at least mute it.

But he isn’t a normal person.

He positioned the phone as if he were taking a selfie, and gave me a front row seat to the show.

I hate vomit. I was repulsed.

Even so, I was intrigued.

Who in their right mind does that?

Suddenly I needed to know him, right down to the core.

I wanted to probe his brain.

But I also wanted to take care of him.

Poor thing. He was so sick.

But I can’t dole out damp cloths, crackers or cold water through a screen.

All I could do was watch.

Maybe it was the residual guilt that made me send him that money.

I didn’t want him to become homeless

Did he ask for it? No.

I don’t think that was his aim in telling me.

If it was, he deserved it for being so convincingly distressed.

Who am I kidding?

He didn’t deserve that.

I believe in karma. Good and bad.

He said he’d pay me back.

We’ll see about that.

Maybe he’ll start talking to me more often.

Doesn’t matter much what he does.

I’m becoming obsessed with him.

He’s as fucked up as I am, but he doesn’t hide it.

He hides the good.

I know it’s there.

I’m as fucked up as he is, but I hide it.

I hide the bad.

Does he know it’s there?

#poetry #poetic #my poem #poems on tumblr #relationship #original poem

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herewegobebe · 4 years

Text

I swear monkeys would do a better job of running SM. A few mins ago they accidentally posted the SuperM Tiger Inside MV, then quickly took it down again 🙄🤦‍♂️🤡

#i thought i was seeing things #then when i went to watch it suddenly said unavailable #but pretty sure i saw there had been a ton of views already #sm on crack

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donutloverxo · 3 years

Text

Good little wife

Note - Inspired by a request I got long ago and written for the happy hoelidays challenge I'm cohosting with my sister hoes @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 . I used the prompts two idiots in love + Character A loves Christmas. Character B hates it. A melts Bs cold heart Dividers by @firefly-graphics .

Summary - Your husband makes up to you for being a Grinch and a meanie to you throughout your marriage.

Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), dub con, older man/younger woman, arranged marrige, leaking nudes, daddy kink, blood play, virginity/innocence kink, loss of virginity, virgin reader, painful sex, misogyny, mob activities.

Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 8k

“You look beautiful, cookie,” your mother raved, pressing her lips to your cheek, “He’s a lucky man.”

You only hummed. Staring at your refection, seeing someone you didn’t even recognize.

Your white lace dress somewhat conservative, still really pretty, something you would’ve been more than happy to wear if your circumstances weren’t so depressing.

You almost let out a sardonic laugh, you didn’t get to choose your husband but at least you chose your wedding gown.

“It’ll be alright,” your mother picked at your hair, noticing your evident sadness, you’ve never been one to hide how you feel anyway, “you’ll learn to love him. He’s very successful.”

“I always thought ‘money doesn’t make you happy',” something she had said to you so many times over the years.

“That’s just a fairy tale. People fall out of love, run out of things to talk about, men cheat, in the end all that’s left is how well he can provide for you,” she stated.

You checked your phone as soon as you could, going through your messages to see if your boyfriend, or rather your now ex boyfriend, had sent you anything. You still naively hoped that he'd come on a white horse and sweep you off and away, so you wouldn’t have to marry someone you’ve else. So you wouldn’t have to give up your freedom forever and just be someone’s wife.

But you saw nothing. He hadn’t talked to you, not since your father found out about you both. Since he was from a family your daddy hated with a passion, and you were supposed to as well, your father made you cut all times with him. Locked you in your room in a timeout till you came to your senses.

After over three weeks he came to you, telling you how he was ready to forgive you and move on. You were so happy. For a minute you let yourself believe that this was your father, he loved you unconditionally, of course he'd set aside whatever vain feud he has and let you be with your love.

All your hopes were crushed when he told you he had selected a husband for you whom you have to marry in just a month. That you had to drop out of college since you wouldn’t need that degree anyway.

You always did believe that he had your best interests at heart, you wanted to believe it this time as well, but you just couldn’t.

Cringing inwardly when he kissed your cheeks, “You look beautiful,” he told you, cold eyes staring at you, “Don’t try anything stupid. Andrew is a good man,” he looped your arm in with his.

“He’s more than a decade older than me,” you argued, biting your lip as he squeezed your arm to warn you.

You slapped a fake smile on your face, walking down, one step after another as everyone looked at you in awe.

This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life...

But when you looked at Andy waiting for you at the alter you felt nothing but grave anxiety which made your teeth clatter, his palms joined together at his front, he did look handsome with his tux and neat beard. You have had a crush on him for a long time but you’ve never even had a real conversation with him, you didn’t know him. No one did.

Your heart filled with dread as your father handed you over to Andy, patting him on his shoulder, “Take good care of her.”

“I will,” Andy smiled.

You weren’t really there, maybe your body was but your soul had left you to maybe make the whole ordeal less painful. The priest read the vows asking you if you were ready to take him as your husband forever.

“I do,” since you had no other choice.

“I do,” he repeated.

You felt a shiver jolt up your spine when his fingers grazed yours, putting the thin silver band on your finger before lifting your veil to press his lips to yours, giving you a chaste, barely there kiss as everyone cheered you on.

The rest of the evening was a blur, you could barely register what had happened, everyone sweetly calling you ‘Mrs Barber’ only making you more nervous.

Andy however, was cordial and formal as always, shaking their hands and thanking them.

Since you hadn’t really taken any dance lessons you were left to simply wing it with him at your first dance. With your clammy hands in his you tried to match his pace as he lead you, bumping into his feet with yours more than once.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Relax,” making you shudder.

You looked up at him, he had barely said two words to you but your grandmother often said ‘Eyes are the windows to the soul’.

And Andy’s eyes were so... kind, like a blue ocean you could happily drown in. He almost looked at you as if he were fond of you.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad...

You didn’t really expect Andy to carry you over the threshold, that was just a silly little fantasy you’ve always had and you knew he’d never indulge you in it but he didn’t even hold the door open for you.

You looked around his condo, so grey and boring, looked like it was out of a magazine catalogue, you felt so out of place there.

Naturally, you followed him to his bedroom, watching him wake his coat off, followed by his cuffs as he rolled his sleeves up.

You went over what you wanted to say in your head, how do you tell your husband that you’re a virgin, on your wedding night--that was something your grandmother never gave you advice on. You could’ve used her wisdom then.

With your mouth suddenly dry you tried to speak as he poured himself a drink, “Um... I’ve...”

“What?” he looked at you, quirking a brown brow up.

“Nothing,” you shook your head as you took a seat on the edge of the bed. “This is a nice house.”

“You can take the guestroom,” he said bluntly.

“What?”

“You can take the guestroom. I’ve already put all your bags there, you can decorate it however you like but don’t touch anything else.”

“But I...I’ve never heard of husband and wife sleeping in different rooms.”

“That’s true, it is unusual. This is not a normal marriage though, is it?” His tone so frustratingly patronising, as if he was talking to a child.

You’ve never really been appreciated for your mind, women never are--not where you come from, even your love Alex only ever thought of you as a ‘pretty face’. But Andy didn’t need to spell it out for you, “You... don’t want me...” you realised.

He only scoffed. He’d never been one for long term relationships, he had tried but he could never give himself to another person, women often called him emotionally unavailable, his demanding and dangerous job did contribute a lot to that, but more than that it was his unwillingness to change. He was self aware enough to know that but he didn’t need anyone else. He didn’t want to be tied down or to have a nagging immature wife.

“But why...” you wondered. Sure, you weren’t thrilled to marry him, but now you had accepted it and wanted to make the best of your new life. You thought he wanted the same.

“Why would I want you?” he spat. “ You’re nothing but a spoilt rich girl who’s had everything handed to her. Who was ungrateful and stupid enough to fraternize with the enemy.”

You let out a shaky exhale, looking at him with teary eyes, “I loved him...”

“You don’t know the first thing about love,” he rolled his eyes.

“He loved me too! But I’m willing to put that behind me. I made a vow to you.”

“You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” you frowned.

He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery to show you the compromising pictures you had sent to your ex, “He shared that with everyone, it was all just a ploy to humiliate your father.”

You gasped, taking his phone in your trembling hand, your breasts exposed as you shyly looked at the camera. You had flat out refused to send him a nude when he asked for it but then he threatened to break up with you, to go after your best friend, even called you a prude because you hadn’t slept with him. At the moment you felt as if you had no choice but to do it...

“He wouldn’t,” you sobbed.

“And because of your stupidity I had to marry you since no one else would ever want you,” he said. But then regretted it as you just started crying harder. He thought of maybe trying to console you but what would he even say?

He took the phone from you before you could even think of deleting the photos. He used them to pleasure himself almost every night. Maybe he was an idiot, he could have the real thing, yet he was pushing you away, “Go to your room,” he told you which made you sob even moreso.

You looked up at him, begging him for a hug, for some sort of comfort or sympathy but his face was cold and harsh. Finally gathering your wits you went to the other room, ready to cry yourself to sleep.

No matter how beautiful you were, you were still thrusted upon him, you didn’t love him, you never could because you never even had a choice

“Perfect,” you beamed, setting down the chicken pot pie you had just cooked up.

Your grandmama had always told you that a wife should be a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom. So that her man would never stray.

And while you hadn’t had a chance to be a whore for Andy... something that you were looking forward to, you hoped the fresh home cooked meal, the holiday season and decorations you had spent the past few days working on would put him in the mood. To maybe accept you as his wife.

For the past six months you had tried everything, making him breakfast, packing his lunch, offering him massages, even trying to help him with his work but he was always so cold to you.

You feared that this is how it will be forever. He would never love you, not the way you’ve always loved him. Even when he was so cruel towards you.

But you were nothing if not resilient. So you said chuck it and went all out. Decorating your whole house, with a real tree for the past few days while Andy was out on a work trip for thanksgiving. Maybe you could surprise him and he’d realise just how much he lucked out with you.

You even went with a more risqué outfit than you usually would. Your little emerald green skirt with pleats was a bit too short and impractical for the cold winters but you were going to stay inside anyway. It was topped off with a tight burgundy blouse and a push up bra which made your girls look enticing and some red pumps.

With a pumpkin pie for dessert in the oven, your salads done and the gingerbread flavored candles lit up you were good to go.

So you sat on the couch, watching 'A Christmas story' for the hundredth time to kill time till he gets home and to distract your nervous mind.

After ninety minutes the movie was over but Andy still wasn’t home. You tried calling him but it kept going to voicemail.

Frustrated, but determined to follow through with your ‘Seduce Andy Barber’ plan you put on another movie, chewing your lip till it bled as you impatiently waited for him.

Soon it was midnight, your food got cold and the rumbling in your tummy became more prominent so you decide to eat your dinner, put the leftovers in the freezer and cut your losses.

You were almost done with your dishes when your husband coming into the apartment, turning around you saw him hang his coat on the back of the chair and plomp down on it. He groaned, pulling the sleeves of his shirt up to reveal his bulky forearms.

“You’re home,” you said, taking off your apron so he could see your little get up.

He didn’t smile at you like you expected he would, he didn’t say ‘Good job’ like you thought he would. He certainly didn’t look like he wanted to bend you over the dining table and take you then and there. He simply frowned at you. Looking at you as if your mere existence offended him.

“I told you; you were allowed to decorate your room however you liked. Not the whole apartment,” he growled, rubbing a hand over his face.

“What? I did it for you... I thought you would like it, ” you stood there, dumbfounded, shifting from one foot to another, “You don’t like Christmas.” You realised.

“No, I don’t. Christmas isn’t all fun and jolly for everybody. I’ve never had anyone to celebrate it with,” he did you a once over, his pants tightening uncomfortably as he took in your little ensemble.

He had never had a single good Christmas in his whole life. He’d usually spend it either working or drinking. But now, he had you, his good little wife who had gone out of her way to do all this just for him.

He could kiss your red lips then and there, finally do what he’s been wanting to go for the past few months and make love to you, eat the delicious meal you had made him because he was fucking starving.

But then he realized how easily you could be taken away from him. How this was all so fickle.

“Do you want a divorce?” he crossed his hands over his chest, as if daring you to give a wrong answer, “If you do, I’ll give you one right now.”

“I - ” you strutted, you didn’t really know, “Daddy would never let that happen.” To which he scoffed.

Your father would kill you both if this marriage failed. He knew that, why would he still be willing to risk everything?

“Where are you going?” you asked when he got up from the chair.

“To my room, to sleep,” he sighed.

He knew what you would say, he knew you were daddy’s little girl who’d die before disappointing her father, which was solely why you were with him, and yet he let himself fall for you and get hurt.

You tugged on his shirt, ready to beg him to at least eat the meal you made for him but then you frowned, inhaling the feminine perfume from his shirt, mixed with his own Cologne, you took a step back, your eyes brimming with tears as you realised he might’ve been with another woman.

While you were home slaving away to make everything perfect for him.

Your father had a handful of mistresses, a few of them younger than you. Your mother knew, all wives know and look the other way. That was how it was supposed to be. It was how you make marriages last...

And your poor beaten heart could take his coldness towards you, it absolutely could not bear him being with another woman. Your father had always praised him for being loyal, and it was one of the things you loved about him...

“Where were you?” you sniffled to keep the tears at bay.

“I was out working. So I could pay for your shopping sprees.” He spat.

You gasped, “I haven’t gone shopping in months! I only did now for Christmas!”

“That tree better be down by the time I wake up. You can out all that crap in your bedroom if you like. I do not what to see it.” He said gravelly, before slamming his door shut.

Something was horribly wrong.

Andy came home to an empty, cold house. You weren’t there to greet him like you usually are, in fact you hadn’t been for the past few weeks. He could hear the TV from your room, some kind of musical playing.

He checked the kitchen for some food, you used to make dinner every night, rave about your love for cooking and baking, but now it seemed that you lived on poptarts and McDonald’s.

He knocked on your door, to ask if you wanted some of the alfredo he was cooking up, also to maybe get you to have dinner with him.

Ever since he had married you, he had such a beautiful companion to have dinner with. To watch silly romcoms with, someone who waited for him to come home, called him all worried when he was late, asked him how his day was

It’d break his heart to say good night to you, you’d give him those puppy eyes, fluttering your lashes as if begging him to invite you to bed with him.

He wanted to ask you to come, to feel what it would be like to snuggle up with your soft body, to smell your hair, to finally fuck you, but he’d just go away to sleep in his cold bed with a heavy heart. Making do with his hand as he thought of you, it wouldn’t feel nearly as good as you would but it would have to do.

“Can I come in, honey?” he asked.

Letting himself in when no answer came from you. You were lying on your bed, blankets draped over you, your eyes trained on the television. He looked around your room, he had only been there a couple of times, he had expected to see some kind of winter wonderland since you were such a fan of Christmas.

But it looked just how it usually did... pale pink walls, a queen sized bed, a small closet and a dresser and a vanity. No tree or fairy lights or nut crackers.

He leaned against the door frame. “Did you have dinner?” He wanted to know.

You made some sort of unintelligible noise; which could mean anything. So he asked, “Would you like some pasta? I can’t make it as good as you do but I’ll try.”

“No.” You answered. Still not even looking at him.

“It’s Christmas Eve, do you want to go celebrate with your family?”

You shook your head in response. “No, I think I’ll just stay here.”

He had stolen your brightness and sunshine away, tainting you with his darkness. “Stop it,” he scolded, switching off the TV and standing in front of you to make you listen to him. “Get ready, I’m dropping you off at your fathers. You’re not spending Christmas in bed.”

“What difference does it make?” you huffed.

“Get ready. Right. Now.” He ordered, pulling your blanket away from you.

“No!” you whined. Sitting up, your face heating up with a simmering rage you had harbored for months. “Why do you even care? Do you want to get me out of the house so you could spend Christmas with her?!”

“Who’s her?” he furrowed his brows.

“Your mistress!” you yelled, looking around for something you could hurt him with, you grabbed a hold of your Mrs Bunny, your cute pink stuffie and threw it at his face. “I’m not going anywhere. And you’re not bringing her in to my house!” You said, throwing another stuffie at him which he caught with his hand.

“Honey,” he said, as if he was so disappointed with you, for catching him in his lies and deceit. “I don’t have a mistress. Where would I even find the time for one? All those late nights were spent at the office or in meetings.”

He would be the world’s biggest idiot to get a mistress when he had a wife like you waiting for him at home. A wife he hadn’t even so much as even kissed... given how pouty and tempting your lips looked, he didn’t know how he resisted for so long.

“Don’t call me honey,” you puffed out your cheeks, “And I don’t believe you.”

“Well, what can I do to make you believe me?”

You sighed, laying back down on the bedding, “There’s not much you can do. Except leave me be. I just want to sleep this Christmas away.”

He had to do something to get your spirits up. And since you has thrown away your old decorations he ran to every store in the town, waiting in the queue for hours, calling in as many favors as he could to get some new ones.

While he wasn’t able to get a real Christmas tree, he got a fake one which was a bit smaller than the one you had put up but not all that bad.

You had decorated the apartment with the traditional red, greens and golden he decided to go with a soft pastel pink theme. Hoping that you would like it and forgive him.

He had gotten you couple of gifts, a little babydoll he saw on the internet, it was pink and sexy, he thought of you the moment he saw it. Ordering it for you but he never really gathered enough courage to ask you to wear it. He wrapped it up for you in some festive paper, tying a ribbon around it.

He decided to get as many gifts for you as he could so the tree wouldn’t look so depressing, a Tiffany’s set, an advent calendar from a make up company he knew you liked, a box of cookies and one of chocolates, a new apron with floral patterns and frilly trimmings, some cozy socks, and a surprise gift he had been saving for you.

Looking around the living room, while it wasn’t as good as what you had done with the place he was still proud of what he could pull off in just a couple of hours.

He called out your name before knocking and entering, switching on your bedside lamp he sat next to you, stroking your hair, “Wake up, angel.”

“Seriously, stop it with the petnames,” you said, your voice groggy from sleep and irritated. Because he had only ever said your name with contempt before.

“I’m not going to stop, honey. You’re my wife, I can call you whatever I like.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, rubbing your sleep away from your eyes.

“I have a surprise for you.” He smiled at you.

And while he had certainly smiled at you before that, when you had said something funny or silly (which you usually did just to see him smile), this one seemed so much brighter and warm.

“What is it?” you sat up. Still a bit crossed with him but excited to see what surprise he had for you.

“You have to come into the living room for that, and promise to stop being a Grinch,” he said, bopping your nose.

You scoffed incredulously, “I’m being a Grinch?! You were the one who made me take everything down in the first place!”

“I know, honey, and I am sorry for that. Hopefully I can make it up to you.” He winked.

You combed your hair, splashing some water on your face and then following him out to see what he had in mind for you.

You all but gasped at the tree in the middle of your living room, so beautiful, the soft glow of the fairy lights illuminated the room, little festive trinklets all over the room.

He had got you a pink stocking with sparkling silver hearts on it. His was a normal red one with ‘Andy' written with a sharpie or a pen. You giggled at that.

“You like it, honey?” he asked.

You nodded, observing the ornaments on your tree, “I do. Thank you so much, Andy. It’s so beautiful, I don’t think anyone’s ever done something so grand for me.”

Your rave gave him the courage to out his hand over your waist, pulling you into him, “I know this doesn’t make up for everything, but it’s start.”

“Yes! I think... I’d like a fresh start,” you beamed up at him

He excused himself to make some hot chocolate for you both, handing you a mug with little heart shaped marshmallows and sprinkles on top of it. You didn’t even realise how you ended up snuggled up next to him on the couch, Elf playing on the TV which he shockingly had never seen before.

“You know... for someone who hates Christmas so much you did a pretty good job saving it!” you giggled, kissing his bearded cheek.

“Well...” he looked down at you, wiping away the mustache the hot chocolate gave you before sucking his thumb off, “I don’t hate it anymore, because I’m not alone,” he said, his thumb pulling on your plump bottom lip.

“Um...” you face heated up as looked away, “You got me gifts!” you screamed a bit overzealous to change the subject, “Can I open one now? Please?! I’m just so excited!”

“Sure,” he murmured, a bit salty that he didn’t get the kiss.

He knelt next to you on the carpet as you pinked one up, shaking it next to your ear, scrunching your nose up so cutely as you tried to decipher what it was.

“Mmm... I can’t tell...”

“Why don’t you just open it?” he asked as his hand caressed your bare thigh, finding himself unable to keep his hands off of you now that he has you.

You ripped at the wrapping paper, opening the box to reveal the skimpy baby pink lingerie he had got you.

You pulled it out of the box and then started stammering, unable to form words once you realised what it was. “Is this... um..”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, it’s very cute and nice. Do you, want me to wear it for you?”

“If that’s what you want,” he said casually and then shrugged but then regretted it as your face fell and you let. He wasn’t used to half-assing things if he was going to tell you his true feelings, he had to go all out.

Taking a deep breath, “I have to tell you something I’ve been meaning to say for months.”

“What?”

“I... love you,” he looked down at your lap, because he couldn’t bear to look in your eyes if you decided to reject him.

“Oh, Andy!” you beamed, “I love you too! I’ve always loved you,” you crawled on top of him, throwing your arms around his neck you hugged him.

“That’s good then,” he smiled stroking your back, he pulled you back so he could look at your pretty face, cupping your cheek he pressed his lips against yours.

He had only kissed you once, months ago at your wedding, and while it was not bad at all it was too short and formal and distant, nothing compared to how he felt right now. Moulding his lips against yours, kneading the flesh of your ass, you tasted just as sweet as he imagined you would.

You gasped in his mouth when he rutted his erection up into your core. “Andy!” your chest heaving as you felt him pressing against your thigh.

“What do you say you go put that on for me, doll? Hm?” he instructed.

You meekly nodded, grabbing a hold of the lingerie which you just now noticed was so sheer and would not really leave anything to the imagination.

“Come on out quickly now,” his impatience seeping through his voice as he sat on the edge of his, or what would now be both of your marital bed, one leg crossed over the other, his foot tapping against the floor.

His pants already snug, just from imagining what you would look like with the flimsy thing on. It wasn’t as revealing or kinky as some of the other pieces he had seen, but he felt it would match your personality perfectly.

He groaned, calling out your name again, “I’m gonna fucking die of blue balls, if you don’t come out right now, I’m coming in,” he got up to his feet to do just that but then stopped when he heard the knob twist.

One smooth leg peaking out of the bathroom, “Um... promise you wouldn’t make fun of me?” you asked. Your eyes screwed shut, you didn’t really have much of choice but you had never been so vulnerable in front of anyone. You’d hate to not be satisfactory for him.

“I promise,” his face softened, he had to practice some restrain, at least until he breaks you in, “Now come on out.”

You opened the door, your meek eyes fixed on your hardwood floor, your hands hugging your midsection. You blinked when he said nothing for several long, tortuous moments. Peaking a glance up at him you found him staring at you.

“Uh, do you like it?” you asked as your hands played with the helm of the teddy.

He almost scoffed. Like would be an understatement.

He knew pink would be your color. The nightie so short, clinging to your curves, your nipples pebbled against the satiny fabric, you looked like a sweet little doll and a whole fucking meal to devour at the same time. He would burst before he even got to touch you.

“Twirl,” he made the motion with his forefinger to demonstrate it, “Let me look at you better. And hands to your sides.”

You took a deep breath, letting your hands fall, doing as he had asked, your heart hammering in your chest because for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out if he actually liked you.

“Stop there,” he instructed when he got a look at your pert, round butt, the cloth barely covering it, he could see the imprints of the thong you wore.

“What are you thinking?” you asked.

“If I like your front better or your behind.” He almost chuckled at the incredulous gasp you let out. “Alright, look at me again.” Definitely the front, because he could see your beautiful face. Taking his original position on the bedding, “Come here,” he patted his lap.

Like the obedient wife that you aspired to be, you followed, perching yourself up on his lap, your arms around his neck for some support, looking into his lust blown, dark eyes.

You bite your lip when you felt that pressing into your thigh. Unable to bear his intense gaze you hid your face in the crook of his neck.

He hushed you, snuggling your soft body closer to his, his fingers drawing patterns on your hip, “How many men have you been with before?”

It didn’t really matter whatever your answer would be. But he wanted to tell you, that how ever many there were before him won’t matter anymore. From now on you are solely his.

“None,” you whispered so lowly that he almost couldn’t hear you.

“What?” Holding onto your chin so that he could make you look at him, “None? How is that possible?”

“I’ve just been waiting for the right one... I was going to with Alex but then didn’t...” you said as your hands caressed the coarse hair on his jaw.

He hummed, the fact that he would be your one and only, forever, only served to entice him further.

“Have you ever sucked a cock before?” he asked, although he knew the answer.

“No...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” he promised, pushing on your shoulders to make you get on your knees.

You hissed at the cold floor, biting into the your calves and knees.

His dainty princess, he grabbed a throw pillow, instructing you to put it under, all the while staring at your cleavage peaking out like a creep.

Your eyes were fixated on his crotch, eager to see what a real penis looks like. You had watched some porn when you were a teen, out of sheer curiosity, but your friends had told you to lower your expectations. That real ones are much smaller and not so aesthetically pleasing.

You all but gasped when he took his cock out of the confines of his sweats, slapping over his abdomen. So big... and thick, with two veins over it, a bright flushed tip leaking with pre-ejaculate, and some soft hair dusted at the base of it.

You tried to stop yourself but then couldn’t help it, your hand shyly touching his tip yanking it down and then releasing it to see what happens. As suspected it flew back over, hard against his tummy, making you giggled.

“Oh gosh...” you slapped a palm over your mouth to stop from laughing.

He scrunched up the hair on the back of your head, yanking your neck back so that he could look at you, “What’s so funny?” he growled.

“Nothing,” you gulped, “It’s all just so strange and new... and exciting...”

He hummed as he took in your words. Grabbing the base of his cock as he rubbed his tip and precum all over your cheeks till your face was positively glowing with his essence.

“You wanna taste it?” he asked, to which you eagerly nodded.

Nudging your pouty lips with his tips before tapping on them when you didn’t get the clue, “Open.”

“Oh,” you said before opening as wide as you could, his length easing into your mouth. You hummed around him, the salty unique taste of him you had never really known before and couldn’t get enough of now.

He was barely halfway through inside you when he touched the back of your throat, he tutted, “Relax your throat,” he told you.

You didn’t really know what he meant but you tried loosening up all your muscles. Choking around him when he pushed in a few more inches.

Most of him was still out but it was as good as it’s gonna get, not that he’d ever complain... no... your mouth was like heaven. He had only known his hand for the past year Or so, and your mouth was almost too much.

Holding onto your face to keep it in place he started thrusting upwards into you, his heart swelling with tears escaped your eyes but you still tried to take more of him, to please him like the good girl that you were.

He stopped his hips, gently slapping your cheek to get your attention, “You always look at me when my dick is in your mouth. Got it?”

Since you couldn’t talk with your mouth full of cock, you just nodded.

You peered up at him innocently, fluttering your lashes, popping him out of your sloppy mouth, “Am I doing it right?” because you truly couldn’t tell.

He chuckled, smoothening a hand down your hair, “More than right... it’s too good but I want to come in your pussy. Maybe I’ll make you swallow my load latter, what do you think?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” you licked your lips to taste more of him.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered.

“Um... can I go fix my face before that,” you rubbed your mouth with the back of your hand, you doubted you looked very pretty to him then.

“No,” he stated, pulling you up by your armpits and all but throwing you on the bed.

You yelped and tried to protest, “I wanna look good for you...”

He pushed your legs apart to make room for him, smirking above you, eyeing you up as if you were a piece of meat, his prey, “This really does look pretty on you...” he rubbed the flimsy spagetti strap between his fingers, “but it’s served it’s purpose.”

You screamed, holding onto his wrists as he ripped the babydoll in two pieces, revealing your breasts to him, he yanked at it, throwing the remains away.

“That’s much better,” he gritted, pinching one of your peaks, capturing it in his mouth and suckling at it to his hearts content.

You pouted as you looked at the torn cloth, a bit upset that he ruined his gift to you. “I really liked that...” you sniffled. But couldn’t really ponder because Andy’s ravenous mouth was sucking hickies all over your breasts.

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you ten more,” he bit into the side of your breasts, your mewls and whines were like music to his ears.

“Andy...” you heaved, “Don’t leave marks... I have to go to dinner tomorrow to moms...”

He stopped abruptly, propping himself up above you and you were afraid that you had upset him, “You’re my wife now, honey. Your father gave you to me,” his hand snaking down your body, between your legs, he parted your moist lips, the pad of his fingers meeting your little pearl, “I can do whatever I want with you,” he reminded you, pushing a finger into you, “This cunt is mine now, got it?”

“Yess...” you whined as you squirmed under him, the invasion of his finger inside you too alien to your body.

“Which means you ask for permission before you touch yourself, or better yet, don’t touch yourself because that’s my job,” he stated.

“Have you ever made yourself come?” he asked, trailing soft kisses down your body till he settled between your legs, moving the strong of the thing to the side so he could get a better look at your virgin pussy, adding another finger inside you, your snug walls clinging to his digits, “You’re so fucking small. Can barely fit my finger. How will you take my cock,” he teased.

He’d make you take it.

You whimpered at the sting of it, “I’ll try, daddy...” throwing your head back as you massaged your breast.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him when he stopped his ministrations, “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” he quirked a brow. “Do you realise what you just called me?”

You simply shook your head because you hadn’t really called him anything, “Andy?”

“No,” he huffed, “You called me daddy, honey.”

You gasped, you didn’t mean to say it out loud! “No...” you shook you head from side to side, trying to pull away from his fingers still knuckle deep inside you, “It can’t be!”

“Oh, but you did,” he laughed, “And you’re gonna say it again. In fact, from now on, when it’s just the two of us that’s the only thing that you will call me. Unless you wanna get punished...”

“Okay...” you said, still a bit unsure of it all.

You had always called him ‘daddy’ in your fantasies. It was maybe a bit expected for it to slip out like that but still so embarrassing. You said it again just to make sure that he actually wanted you to call him that and wasn’t just teasing you.

“Good girl,” he winked, latching his mouth around your clit, fucking you with his fingers as he kept sucking.

“Daddy...” you whined, biting on your hand to muffle some of your noises, a knot building up in the pit of your stomach, “Don’t stop, please!”

You gushed over his mouth, he lapped it all up, making sure nothing went to waste.

“You did good, honey,” he said, your cheeks heating up when you saw his beard glistening with your juices. He rolled your thong down your thick thighs, “You wear this to dinner tomorrow,” he told you. “Since I’m going to be a real husband from now on I pick out what you wear.”

All so he could see you in those pretty flowy dresses you wear sometimes, but you didn’t need to know that.

He hastily pushed his sweats and briefs past his hips, throwing them off the bed before pulling his t-shirt over his head.

You bit your lip at just the sight of him. His shoulders so broad, chest so wide, dark hair dusted all over his chest, you just knew then that all those hours he spent at the gym paid off, you knew he’d be ripped.

But you absolutely did not expect, someone as uptight as him to have numerous tattoos all over his torso.

Something inscribed in Sanskrit on his chest that you didn’t really understand... the logo of your family’s mob on just under his pectoral.

You sat up to get a better look at them, tracing a skull on his bicep that looked much less sophisticated than the others, the lines a bit scribbly, it was already fading.

“That’s the first one,” he interrupted you, “I was a kid back then, got my foster brother to do it.”

You pressed a kiss over it, “I love it.”

His blue eyes beamed at you, he was so beautiful...

“Now for your gift...” he circled your wrist bringing it down to his pelvis.

“Hm?” you looked down, tears brimming up in your eyes as you saw your name written on just beside his hipbone, next to his hard cock, standing tall against his stomach. In a small heart, dark ink against his pale skin, “When did you get it done?” you sniffles, touching his skin to feel the texture of the tattoo.

“A few weeks ago. I just... I’ve never belonged to anyone. Never had a family of my own. But now I have you, and you have me, I’m just as much yours as you’re mine,” he confessed, finally feeling the weight of it lifted off his shoulders. You were a blessing in disguise.

“I love you,” you beamed up at him.

“I love you too, doll, now come on,” he pushed you till you were on your back, “Daddy’s waited long enough. Can’t wiat to fill you up, make you mine.”

He planted a hand on the mattress, so he could see what he was doing to your virgin cunt, look at you and her, as he defiles you and makes you a woman, his thick manhood nudging your glistening lips as he eased into you, he felt you stretching around him, your face twisted in pain as you begged him to go easy on you, he halted when he felt your barrier.

He looked up at your pretty face, sparkling with his spend and your tears, your sweet little whimpers filled the room, he stayed still for a moment to let you get used to him, he knew he should take it easy.

His wife was a delicate, fragile, sweet little girl. He should be more gentle. A better husband and man would be. But he had his whole life to become a good man for you, tonight he just wanted to take what was rightfully his.

Letting out a deep, almost animalistic growl, piercing through your seal, your innocence till you were screeching, your nails drawing blood from the sides of his thighs.

“It hurts!” you screamed.

“It’ll only hurt for a little bit, doll. Just ride through it,” he cooed, stroking your sensitive clit to draw your attention away from the pain, he withdrew his hips before snapping them back till he was deep within your womb.

“You’re so snug, honey,” he grunted, not letting up his pace as he kept fucking into you,

A proud smirk gracing his face as he looked down to see himself covered in blood, a sticky mess of both your bodily fluids where your sexes were joined. His dick somehow grew harder inside you knowing how he took something from you that you’ll never be able to give someone else.

Slowly your crying and whining was subsiding as you got used to have him inside you, but he wanted to hear you scream for him in a different way. “Don’t you want to make your husband, no, your daddy happy, honey?” He asked, each word punctuated with a deep, harsh thrust into you.

You nodded, willing your tears away, cringing when you saw his crotch covered in your blood, “Yes I do, daddy. What do I do?”

“Your cute dumb brain always needs to be told what to do,” he chuckled, moving closer to you he circled his palms around your wrists, pinning them above you, “Wrap your legs around me.”

You followed along, wrapping your legs around his hips and hooking them together on his back. Closing your eyes when you felt your body seizing up, your pussy pulsating around his length when you felt the familiar feeling creep up on you.

“Look at me!” he barked and you immediately opened your eyes, “You look at me when I fuck you.”

You gulped and dared not close your eyes again. Even as you felt your orgasm wash over you, clenching around his length. His face was scrunched up, his neck, face and chest flush as he chased his own release till you felt his warm release coating your walls.

He collapsed above you, panting beside you he kissed your hair, “You liked that, babygirl?”

You let out a meek little yes. Feeling empty and void of his warmth and hardness when he pulled out of you before settling next to you.

“But...” you trailed off. Not finding it in you to bare yourself to him like that just yet.

“But what?” he whipped his head to look at you.

“But I’m sorry if I wasn’t very good!” Since you had simple laid there and took whatever he gave you. You had heard that men don’t like that...

“Don’t worry, honey, you were absolutely perfect,” he sighed. “You’ll get even better with practice, we’re gonna practice a lot from now on.”

You tried to cover your breasts up with the comforter, still awkward about being stark naked right next to a man, a man who looked as good as like Andy, but he swatted at your hands, reprimanding you and telling you to stay still and let him look at you to his hearts content.

Soon you felt your cunt throbbing back up again, still so raw from the loving Andy gave it, you tried rubbing your legs together to ease it a little bit.

“It still hurts?” Andy asked as you nodded.

He snaked a hand between your legs, massaging your little nub and your lips, tutting when you tried to pull away from his touch, “Shh I’m trying to make it hurt less.”

He hummed when he saw his seed leak out of you, pushing a finger in you, much to your displeasure, to keep it inside you, where it belonged.

He would make you go on some form of birth control as soon as he could. While the idea of you all round and plump with his kid was more than appealing, he didn’t want to share you with anyone else just yet. You were young, he had plenty of years to breed you.

“You’d make a good mother,” he wondered out loud.

“Hm?” you blinked at him. Squirming from the torture he was yielding on your overworked sex. His lips curled up in a twisted smile as he pulled his fingers out of you, wiping your blood on your soft nipples, painting them crimson as you shivered.

You looked at his cock, hard again against his stomach. “Does it hurt?” you asked, your hands twitching to touch it again.

“Yes, it does. Do you wanna help me get rid of the pain?”

“Mm... can I use my mouth again? I’m sore...”

“It’s okay, honey, you’ll get used to it,” he promised, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him, your palms pressed into his abdomen as you looked so wrecked, “Guide me in,” he ordered.

You shook your head which earned you a harsh slap on your ass so you held onto the base of his cock, parting your intimate lips, before slowly sinking down on him.

You sighed as you settled, sitting on top of him with his cock nestled inside you, so full and strangely satisfied, his warmth soothing your aching walls, he spanked you again to remind you to move, so you started bouncing on top of him the best you could.

His hand groped at your bouncing titts before he wrapped a hand around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure as you whimpered and cried, just to remind you who’s in charge, not that you’d forget anytime soon.

His only regret was that he hadn’t done this sooner. He was an idiot to ever resist an angel like you. He’ll have to do a lot to make up for lost time.

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Insatiable. ( Jungkook x OC)

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC! Age difference!!! [ bet you’ve never seen all of this in one fic before? ]

[ Some notes : Born Vampires stop aging when they turn twenty five. Turned vampires stop aging when they’re turned. ]

Summary :

21 year old Hwang Sera is sick of being the only human in an entire clan of vampires. As an immortal human from one of the oldest bloodlines, she is a catch. The Vampire she marries would essentially be indestructible.

Which makes her an easy target for greedy vampires everywhere.

Determined to keep his precious daughter safe, her father hires an old friend , Jeon Jungkook as her full time bodyguard.

Jungkook is 35 years old ( well technically 576 years old ) , father to an adorable five year old kid and he has zero tolerance for Sera and her teenage shenanigans. But , he needs the money and he knows his son would be safe in the Hwang clan’s massive mansion.

And suddenly, after years of despising vampires, all Sera can think about is getting into the gorgeous vampire’s bed and maybe into his heart.

Chapter 1

“He’s so hot.” My sister sighed for the seventeenth time and I glared at her.

“He’s mine. Back the fuck off.” I bared my non existent fangs at her and she retaliated by showing off her own inch long fangs, eyes flashing ruby red in the confines of our huge sprawling bedroom.

The man in question, my sparkling new bodyguard wasn’t here now. He was downstairs at the party, being introduced to the others as the latest addition to our clan.

My mouth watered when I remembered his gorgeous, handsome face. And that body , God.

Sculpted by some higher being who wanted to show off, for sure.

I had never given much thought to losing my virginity. It certainly wasn’t by design that I hadn’t had sex yet but looking at Jeon Jungkook in a fitted black suit, midnight black hair falling into his lovely red eyes and those delicious muscles.....

I kind of believed in fate now.

This was why I’d always been repulsed by the vampires who courted me.

Because Jeon Jungkook had been out there, waiting for me.

And now fate had brought him here and he was going to be mine.

I stumbled over a stray bra, nearly face planting onto the floor .

God, i hated how messy Somi was but I was also eternally grateful that she had skipped out on the party tonight, volunteering to help me with the kids.

I ran a daycare in one of the larger cottages in the estate, keeping the little fanged devils in check while the parents went about their daily lives. On nights like this, when my father hosted guests from every clan in the country for one of his lavish parties, there was always a whole bunch of bite-happy toddlers in need of supervision.

Enter me.

I loved babies. I’d always loved them. They were adorable. And after three years of school , I was finally, officially qualified in caring for them.

Oh and by the way did i tell you that Jungkook had a son? Jeon Joowon was possibly the cutest five year old I’d ever seen and yes I was a little biased but that was okay. I was going to be the kids step mom , after all.

Listen, don’t look at me like that, I just really want to be with Jungkook okay?

I tripped over the same bra when turning back around and I swore.

Focus, Sera. You can day dream about hot vampire daddy later.

“ Why do you have to throw your shit all over the place like this? “ I whined, grabbing the offensive piece of fabric and tossing it at her. She caught is so fast I went a little cross eyed. My sister never missed an opportunity to show off her super-saiyan, vampire powers. That made her a crowd favorite with the toddlers and younglings .

��I still don’t think your choice of a career is smart. These fanged little beasts are impossible to control... ” She commented mildly, watching me stuff two whole cartons of baby wipes into the huge backpack I had propped against the bed. I’d forgotten to restock the day care with wet wipes and it was sheer luck that I had a pair of them lying around my room.

The very idea of entering a room full of babies and toddlers without baby wipes, made me shudder.

“Listen, they’re absolute angels when you listen to what they’re saying. Just because babies can’t talk doesn’t mean they don’t have preferences. All you really need to do is find out what each kid likes and help them feel comfortable -”

“Please stop.” She rolled her eyes and I glared at her.

“I’m a little thirsty. Can i have a sip..” She said softly and I frowned.

“You haven’t drunk from me the entire day. Are you okay?” I held my wrist out.

She shrugged , grabbing my wrist and casually sinking her fangs into the vein . Pain bloomed, familiar and somehow comforting , replaced almost at once by the gentle numbing of her venom. She drank a little and pulled back soon after, linking the puncture wounds for good measure. I watched the skin knit itself together , whole and unmarred in no time.

Perks of being immortal.

The knock on the door made me jump.

“Ms Hwang?” Jungkook’s soft, husky voice came floating through the door and I grinned, cheeks aching with how wide my smile was.

“You look like a maniac. Stop smiling.” My sister looked a little alarmed and I struggled to rearrange my features. Sticking my tongue out at her, I grabbed my sweatshirt, slipping it overhead quickly. I glanced at the mirror, grimacing a bit.

Being with toddlers meant no make up or hair left free.... and so I had a messy top bun, and just lip gloss to look presentable. While the entire party teemed with gorgeous vampires in low cut gowns and blood red lips.

Ugh.

I grabbed the backpack and waved to Somi.

“Come as soon as you can alright?” I begged her and she waved me off.

I rushed to the door, throwing it open and smiling wide.

“Hi oppa.” I said cheerfully.

“I’m not your oppa.” Jungkook said automatically, barely glancing at me and instead reaching for the backpack. He directed me to the stairwell on the side, the one that led straight down to the ground floor and out into the gardens. He went in first and I followed him, climbing down carefully.

I sighed, taking in the mouth watering width of his shoulders, encased in a perfectly fitted jacket. He looked so handsome I wanted to cry. And although he’d been here for a whole week month now, I hadn’t managed to get into his good graces.

“What do I call you, then?” I made to hold his hand when we reached the end of the staircase but he shook my arm off at once.

Did I tell you that he really can’t stand me for some reason?

“As I’ve mentioned a dozen times already, Mr. Jeon would suffice.” He said shortly. He held the door leading out into the gardens open and I walked through.

“That makes you seem so old.” I grimaced, shaking my head and he gave me an amused look.

“I am 576 years old.” He deadpanned. The daycare cottage was just a five minute walk from the mansion and the pathway through the garden was absolutely beautiful, well lit and covered in the brightest flowers.

I waved off his excuse about his age.

“you don’t look a day over twenty five to me.” I said with a shrug. He shook his head, clearly too tired to carry the conversation on. We walked in silence and I felt incredibly content, just with him near.

And he was going to be by my side for the rest of our lives, I thought softly. I would make sure of it. I’d never felt this way about anyone. Jungkook was a good man , evident in literally everything he did. He was kind, an amazing father and such a gentleman that he made me melt.

Jungkook had been turned at the age of 35. And so he sailed through eternity with the gorgeous good looks of a mature , well kept man. His hair was thick, just a slight bit of grey peppering the edges and his features were sharp and well defined.

“Is Joowon in the daycare already?” I asked with a smile and he nodded curtly.

“He has Mr. Pepper with him. He refused to leave him behind. please just make sure he still has him with him when he leaves. He can’t fall asleep without the bunny “ He said softly and I felt my heart bloom ten sizes.

“Of course, I will -”

“Jungkook !!!” The shrill voice broke the stillness of the night like a hammer through a mirror.

I turned around with a frown only to be greeted by the sight of a very pretty, very tall vampire in a blood red bodycon dress and a neckline that plunged all the way to her belly button. She had ruby red lips, and well made eyes. Eyes that now flashed red , dilating as they ran up and down his body.

I felt myself clenching my fists.

“I’m getting late....we need to go, I grabbed his arm trying to tug him along but he didn’t budge. i glanced at his face and felt my heart shatter at the small smile playing around his lips.

“Helena..... Surprise seeing you here....” He drawled, voice so much deeper than usual and I bit my lips. They knew each other?

The vampire had reached us now and she gave me a disdainful smile.

“Who’s this?” She asked with a laugh, “ Are you babysitting now, Jeon?”

I bristled. To my utter chagrin, Jungkook laughed to.

“She’s the kid I’m watching. The Immortal human of the Hwang clan.” He intoned dully.

The lady’s brows went up in surprise.

“:The rumors are true, ....The Hwang clan’s hidden jewel.....with skin like the rarest pearl and eyes that steal souls. Fiercely guarded ...a beauty like no other.... I thought they were exaggerating, but I see they were not. . You’re exquisite.” She commented , seemingly genuine in the compliment as her eyes roved over my features.

“ Um.. thanks?” I shrugged, not particularly flattered by the extravagant description.

The poets in my clan tended to be a bit overdramatic at times.

. She laughed.

“Are you unavailable for the night, then Jeon?” She turned her flashing eyes on him .

My jaw nearly dropped.

Did this bitch really just proposition-

“Afraid so.... Raincheck?” Jungkook smiled wide and he looked so beautiful that I had to bit my lips to stop from moaning.

Helena waved softly, eyes shifting back to me.

“Be safe, little human. When the sun goes down, the ghouls come out to play.” She grinned wide, letting her fangs grow long, past her lower lip, eyes red and bloody.

I stared right back. She laughed and waved before floating away into the night.

Jungkook chuckled.

“You’re not intimidated by us, then.” He said mildly as we began walking again.

“I spent the entirety of my childhood playing with vampires. Do you really think they didn’t spend every waking hour trying to scare me to death?”

He gave me soft smile, and then went back to staring straight ahead.

I relaxed when the familiar cottage came into view, the sound of laughing kids reaching me.

I held my hand out for the backpack and Jungkook gave it to me.

“I’ll just check out the backyard and see if al the gates are secure and then I’ll be right outside the door, alright? Call out if you need me...” He said sharply

“Will you come even if I call you oppa?” I bit my lips, grinning and he flicked my nose.

“Behave.” He said shortly. I sighed.

“I’m not a kid, you know.” I said softly and he gave me a look.

“You are to me. Now get inside.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“There’s a monster behind the tree and I’m Hawkeye because I have the bow and arrow and Jieun is the princess.” Joowon said brightly, showing off the toy bow and arrow in his hand and I grinned, taking in his exquisite features. He looked strikingly like his father , except for the two adorable dimples that showed up everytime he smiled.

“That’s amazing... do you like fighting monsters?” I asked with a grin holding my arms out for him and he hugged me happily.

“Yes, I like fighting monsters and I like Mr. Pepper.” He waved the stuffed bunny in my face.

“Make sure you keep him safe, alright? “ I stroked the soft skin of the

“So what color does your daddy like?” I asked with a grin. I felt a sharp kick on my shin and I turned to my sister.

“Don’t use the fucking kid for your sinful aims, you dingbat!” She hissed and I glared at her.

“I did no such thing...I was just making conversation....” I hissed back.

“Dad likes black.” Joowon answered dutifully and I ruffled his hair. Jieun appeared then, having waited for her prince and gotten bored. She tugged on Joowon’s arm and I let him go, watching the two of them run off.

“Its only been a month, Sera.... I think you should tone down the infatuation. You know dad would never approve.” My sister said gently and I frowned.

“No he won’t, Dad loves me , he wants me to be happy.” I said shortly.

“Yes, but not with Jungkook. He’s a rogue vampire. He doesn’t have a clan. He has a kid ...”

“An angel of a kid...”

“he has a kid whose mother he had to kill because she was a bloodthirsty witch.”

i stared at my sister feeling anger build inside me.

“What does any of that have to do with how I feel about him?” I demanded , moving to stop one of the littles from tripping over a stray rubik’s cube.

“ You’re special. You’re being courted by some of the richest, most powerful vampires in the country and you want to go after the rogue , broke vampire who’s only here because he needs the money and the safety of our clan?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you.” I said firmly.

Somi sighed.

“I’m just saying. Don’t be so blatantly open about your feelings. You’ll be putting a target on Jungkook’s back.”

I exhaled sharply.

“If anyone tries to hurt him, they die.” I said softly.

Somi chuckled.

“I know.... but still, he’s not looking for trouble. Don’t bring it to his doorstep.”

I didn’t reply, moving quickly to the other side of the room.

the words left a bitter taste on my tongue.

Mostly because my sister was right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i stared at the tall strapping vampire, trying to comprehend what I was hearing.

“What do you mean he isn’t here for the night?” I demanded.

“He’s a little tired. He told me had a little too much to drink and he wants to sleep it off. I’ll be here instead ... Just for tonight.” He tried to smile reassuringly and I was momentarily distracted by very deep dimples but I could feel myself fuming.

“and he didn’t think of saying that to me himself? He had to run off while i was closing up the cottage?” I glared.

The Vampire chuckled.

“He told me you might protest.”

“Of course i protest, I feel safer with him...” I said sharply.

The Vampire gave me a deep sigh.

“I’ve been doing this for three centuries, Miss Hwang. You’re definitely safe with me.” He bowed his head.

“What’s your name?” I demanded.

“Kim Namjoon.”

“Fine , Kim Namjoon ssi.... Let’s go. “

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Giving Namjoon the slip was a lot easier than I thought. I waited for him to greet my great uncle, and slipped between two waiters carrying blood cocktails and weaved into the crowd easily.

Jungkook’s bedroom was next to mine and it took me less than a minute to race up the stairs and to his room.

i banged on the door , determined to see for myself just how drunk he’d gotten.

The door opened and i took a deep breath.

“How dare you leave me-”

I froze when I realized that he was shirtless, fresh out of the shower. Water dripped down his torso , like little starbursts of liquid light and my mouth went dry. I swallowed, staring at the tightly packed abs, the dip of his v line as it disappeared into a fluffy white towel.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He growled angrily.

My eyes flew to meet his and then my gaze caught something red on his bed and I peered over his shoulder.

Pain lanced through my heart so sharp that I felt like I’d taken a fucking brick to my chest.

The sight of Helena, naked except for a red bra, stretched out on his bed got burned into my brain and I choked.

“You-” I began but he grabbed my arm, so hard that I knew I would bruise. He yanked me away from the threshold of his room, dragging me to the middle of the hallway as he slammed the door to his room shut.

“Where the fuck is Namjoon?”

“You ditched me to get laid? “ I hissed in disbelief.

“I can’t fucking believe you’re doing this-”

“Is she your girlfriend-”

“Sera-” he shook me again but I refused to back down. I had to know.

“Are you in love with her?!!!” I demanded, my heart breaking .

Jungkook growled.

“It’s none of your damned business!!” He snapped angrily .

“It is !!” I said shrilly.

“Why on earth-”

“Because I’m in love with you!!” I shouted and he froze.

He let go of me like he’d been burned and stepped back, staring at me wide eyed,.

“What did you just say?” He demanded.

“I want you. I want you to court me-”

“Sera stop.” He said sharply

“I’m not joking...I like you and-”

“Shut up.” He growled, his voice shaking.

I swallowed.

“If you say something as asinine as that to me , ever again... I will make you regret it. ” He warned softly.

I felt my heart jerk in panic.

“Jungkook-”

“It’s Mr. Jeon to you!!!” He growled.

I bit my lips, staring at my feet.

“I’m going to pretend this never happened. You’re going to go to your room and wait for Namjoon. If anything like this ever happens again, I’m telling your father.”

I laughed bitterly.

“I’m not fucking twelve years old you son of a bitch. Stop talking to me like I’m your toy or something !” I snarled.

“If you were my toy I would fucking spank you till you cry and lock you in a damn room!” He hissed.

I flinched.

He took a deep shaky breath.

“This never happened.” He said sharply. “ I’m not one of your boytoys. I have no interest in fledgling humans who know nothing about life. That's not the kind of woman I’m looking for. You’re not the kind of woman I’m looking for because you aren’t even a woman yet.”

“ Jungkook !!!” Namjoon’s voice rang through the hallway and I stepped back.

“Have a good night with your whore, Mr. Jeon.” I snapped, before turning on my heel and leaving.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : Hot DILF! Vampire Jungkook is hot. This brings back fond memories of me panting after my husband as a nineteen year old brat . I was a devilish teenager smitten with a twenty seven year old man. Anyways I hope you guys enjoyed :D

#jungkook #jeon jungguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fics #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook vampire #jungkook vampire au #jungkook reaction #bts vampire au #bts smut #bts au

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goatchulu · 3 years

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jealous! lucifer x gender neutral! reader

Genre: fluff, ig? slight smut in the end.

Fandom: obey me!

Prompt: you find yourself in a fake relationship, and now you're introducing your "boyfriend" to the demom brothers. they don't take it so well, especially lucifer.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of harassment and stalking, they make out in the end, reader's gender is unmentioned for your imagination (and inclusion).

lucifer takes another swig of his whisky, a slight burning sensation lingering on his throat. no matter the amount of alcohol he consumed that night, he couldn't escape the bitter feeling that was left inside his chest.

the two of you have been hitting it off pretty well for the past few weeks, if he could say so himself. the harmless complimenting and the subtle glancing had turned into ardent flirting and shows of affection overtime. you two were finally going somewhere with your mutual pinning, or so he thought.

lucifer didn't think his small (not so small) crush on you would lead anywhere, really. nor did he think you would reciprocate his infatuation. but with all the friendly interactions you had of late, anyone would assume you two were together in a romantic light.

now look, lucifer prides himself as a person. he was assertive, efficient, productive, level-headed and the voice of reason when stress is most prominent. but as a lover? lucifer wasn't so sure. he assumed you'd like someone more jolly and eccentric like mammon or someone more confident and charismatic like asmodeus. he didn't expect for you to even spare him a second glance when it came to the dating game. lucifer was a busy man after all, and he wasn't the most expressive when it came to emotions; not very ideal for a lover.

but what lucifer also did not expect was for you to bring home a common demon boy and introduce him as your significant other.

let's just say that all the built up tension and courting were all ruined by a single dinner party.

you had gathered all the demon brothers earlier that morning, claiming you had an important announcement to make. you went as far as inviting diavolo and his loyal butler, barbatos, to spend the evening over for dinner. they thanked you for the invitation, but they unfortunately, could not attend because of their hectic schedules.

lucifer, on the other hand, was more than happy to accept your invitation (though he was quick to cover up the smile he held when you came up to him). seeing as he already lives under the same roof as you, anways. his happiness would soon be diminished and grinded into dirty, pathetic, dust, though.

lucifer's eyes narrow as mammon's loud laughter bounces off the walls of the dining room. lucienne, your "boyfriend", had managed to crack the demon up with one of his silly stories about a strange elderly wizard that sold expensive medication made out of fairy wings that turned out to just be bedazzled dragon fly wings. he worked wonders with the avatar of greed, considering the fact that just a moment ago, mammon was cursing in jealousy and resentment as you sat with your newly introduced boyfriend.

luficer would've told mammon to shut up, but he feared saying something far more vulgar out of anger. the previous tension was already eased into a more domesticated athmosphere (credits to lucienne's charm and humor), lucifer didn't want to ruin dinner for his brothers, and especially not for you.

i mean, lucifer felt betrayed, he felt used and-- and played. how could you lead him on like this? but deep inside, he knew there was something else. he felt disappointed, he felt defeated, he felt crushed, he wished he'd done something sooner before this lucienne stole you away from him.

but anyways, back to the dinner party.

"you seem unusually quiet, lucy." asmo teases from across lucifer's seat. the phrase seems to capture everyone's attention, all eyes now on the grimacing and glaring lucifer.

"asmo's right, you haven't uttered a word since lucienne arrived, lucifer. is something wrong?" you chime in, causing lucifer to perk up. the thought of you worrying about his state sent sparks into his heart, but they were quick to disappear when lucienne asks him the same question.

"i'm fine." he replies to your concern, unable to hide the venom that strung on to his words. this only causes asmodeus to snicker, and leviathan to sink deeper into his seat. everyone else watches in concern as lucifer downs another glass of demom whiskey. you're about to ask him again, unsure about his reply, but he stops you before you could even form a word.

"i said i'm fine."

the air is tense, until eventually, mammon gasps out of nowhere. "don't tell me! lucifer is jealous!!~" he repeats in a sing song manner, only irking lucifer even further. no one else speaks up, the whole situation akward enough.

after a while, though, lucienne speaks up. he gestures at mammon, especially. hoping to stop the demon from escalating the situation. "hey mammon, wanna hear about that one time i accidentally professed my love for my eight grade math teacher?" mammon only settles back into his seat, ready for another laughing fit. the avatar of pride snaps at this, slamming his fists down the table before abruptly excusing himself with a "i have something to do."

he spares you one last glance. his heart aching with guilt from the way you had lowered your head in shame. lucifer didn't want to make you feel like he owned you, or that you weren't allowed to be with someone else... he just, he has enough reason to justify his anger right now and he really wants to dwell in it. he turns his head away from you, biting his lip to contain the guilt and pain that was threatening to seep out. he doesn't turn to look back as he walks away from the dining room in long and rushed strides.

lucifer walks down the dark hallways of lamentation, familiar with every nook and cranny the mansion had. he sighs in relief as his palm reaches out for a familiar door. it creaks as lucifer walks into his room, sounding just as glum as lucifer is.

he heads straight to his paperwork, silently hoping that they would provide him some sort of comfort. he tries to focus on anything but the thought of you or your unavailability, his mind barely processing any of the words that were printed out in front of him. he groans, his hands pulling on his jet black hair in frustration.

i mean, he should've expected this. lucienne was everything lucifer thought you would love. funny outgoing, caring, expressive, charismatic, a smooth talker and he looked at you with utmost respect and admiration. i mean, who in their right mind would choose old-schooled lucifer over the flawless lucienne?

you deserve lucienne and although lucifer thinks that no one in the three realms could ever deserve to call you theirs, he still thinks that lucienne is more deserving of you than lucifer could ever be. what were you doing to the poor demon? he was never one to admit defeat like this, and he especially wasn't the type of person that'd lower themself like this.

his rollercoaster of thoughts are interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. his ears already familiar with this particular knocking pattern. he can't help but straighten himself up, suddenly aware of the way his hair is all sprawled out. he slicks it down with saliva, muttering a small "enter" soon after he finshes checking on his appearance.

his mood lightens just a little bit at the sight of your face. as much as lucifer wants to hate you right now, he couldn't possibly feel that way towards you. never, not in a quadrillion light years.

you sit down in front of him, a genuine look of concern on your face. this makes lucifer visibly frown, catching you a bit off guard. "i wanted to talk to you about something, lucifer." his eyes grow curious and a bit hopeful, wishing it were about something that would distract him from the current situation or give him even the tiniest bit of closure.

"it's about lucienne." and once again, you manage to crush all his hope with only a few words. lucifer swears that if he hears that name one more time, he would personally shove your lovely boyfriend down the deepest depths of the underworld.

you watch his brows furrow and his fist tighten on his quill. lucifer looks far from happy to hear you talk about your significant other right now. "look, i know you'd rather not hear about lucienne again, but it's really really important and i want you to just hear me out. just this once, please?"

lucifer couldn't stand the pleading look you were giving him. your puppy eyes were a weapon that you used on him often, and they always managed to work. a tired sigh leaves his lips, if it meant getting it over with then he'd listen. "fine," he snaps, not before rubbing at his temple in obvious distress. he's said fine, but his body language told you otherwise.

"someone's kind of harassing lucienne at the moment. stalking him, giving him unwanted gifts and constantly professing their love for him when he's told them multiple times that it made him uncomfortable. they're an admirer of some sorts. i'm posing as lucienne's lover in hopes that they'd back off for a while, but i wanted to see if you and diavolo could do some actual help. it's worrisome, really. and it's been stressing lucienne out for the past couple of weeks. pretending to be his significant other is the most i can do for him, i hope you understand."

lucifer only freezes in shock, guilt washing over him all so suddenly. you call out for him, effectively snapping him out of his short daze. of course you'd offer to help lucienne out, you've always been a kind person. in lucifer's eyes, atleast. he coughs into his hand, avoiding eye contact with you as he degrades himself for his previous selfishness.

"of course, i'll do my best to make sure this harasser is punished. the school and i will ensure that lucienne won't be seeing this stalker anytime soon. just keep supporting him like this, i suppose. tell him he can sleep here for the night. thank you for informing me about this." you smile at lucifer's response, relief overwhelming your senses. if this meant that lucienne was finally going to be safe and unbothered, you were overjoyed.

you jump at lucifer, thanking him, all the while, squeezing the life out of him. his heart races impossibly fast at the gesture, and you can't help but smirk at the red that tainted his cheeks. "just so you know, i still like you. and only you, lucy."

his breath comes to a halt. he was no longer able to contain the butterflies that crowded his stomach; shock and well, pure bliss apparent on his face. "does this mean i can kiss you?"

"do anything as you please."

lucifer lunges at you. capturing your lips into a hungry and impatient kiss. his hands roam all over your torso, looking for anything he could hold onto. he settles for your waist and you drape your hands over his shoulders. heaven knows how long he's been waiting for this moment.

he manages to stumble through his room, leading you two to his bed. you part as he pushes you down to sit at the end of his king sized bed. he grins at the sight of you, disheveled and thirsty for more. the avatar of pride couldn't help but be excited for the faces you'll make in the unholy endeavors he's planning for you. he'll devour you, tear apart every innocent limb you have in your body. his imagination runs wild as he thinks of the many ways he'd mark you as his, exhibit you to the world and spread you wide open for his contenders to see. for them to know just how pathetic and needy lucifer could make you in an instant.

he bends down to kiss you again, pushing against your tounge with his own. he squeezes your thighs, digging his nails deep into the skin under the cloth still covering you. groans and grunts leave your lips as he countinues to caress your plush thighs.

as you two part, panting, a newfound possessiveness overtakes lucifer's eyes.

"you're mine."

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elsewhereuniversity · 3 years

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Why You Should Wear Boots after Picking a Major You Didn’t Want

A university is a place where dreams are thrown away.

Such is the case far too often. It remains Real even between the railroad, highway and train tracks. Even there, people interrogate themselves: ‘This is your dream, but is it realistic? How much is the starting salary? Look at your classmates, elegantly breezing over what you clawed through, tooth and nail. Look at your competitors––’

So many choose to drown their dreams themselves… even though, at Elsewhere University, the dead do not rest quietly. The Wild Hunt is proof of that. Yes, that Wild Hunt, which rides across campus when the fog rolls in. We all know the versions in which they hunt for students unlucky (or unbelieving) enough to be outside when the hounds begin baying. Stay inside, stay quiet, and you’ll be all the better for it, if they ignore you.

What about the other versions, though? What about the versions in which it is best to open your windows and howl back? There are tales like that, too––

Sometimes, those brave enough to shout along with the Wild Hunt will be rewarded with a share of prey or gold. Those kind enough to repair a lost hunter’s sled soon discover this to be the right choice, for upon closer inspection, the hounds are not just hounds. Their bones are laden heavy with wrath.

And sometimes, villagers tell tales of a cloaked rider on a white horse. Horseshoes spark against the night breeze. He will ask you to play an impossible game of tug-of-war. If you are wise, you will tie the other end of the rope to a sturdy oak. The leader of the Hunt likes clever little things. He might even drop a reward in your boot.

Perhaps this is why you see students wearing boots for a while after they declare their majors. Even Magenta (who got her name from always wearing high-heeled loafers of that particular shade) and Ma-Boi-Blanche (who has 17 pairs of white sneakers) wore boots back then. Rumor has it, according to a friend of a roommate of a Forbidden Major, that this footwear will help you abandon your misery.

When the Wild Hunt rides as a group, they come to condemn. The RAs are not wrong in telling you to run for safety when the fog descends.

On the other hand, when the leader of the Hunt appears alone, he comes to test. In this more benign (but not safe, never safe) form, 4% meet a bedraggled man, 2% a king of old, 3% a specimen of demon (the Christian subspecies), 6% a harlequin, and 5% a sledder with a thick Mecklenburg accent.

84% of those who have survived the encounter say that the leader of the Hunt wears a cloak and a wide hat that partially hides his eyes (one of which is duller than the other). He gallops in on a splendid white horse.

95% of those who survived the encounter were wearing boots (one of them was wearing spatterdashes over court shoes, but eh, close enough).

100% of the survivors say that you must be ready to be tested. Be kind, clever, daring. If you are all that––and wary, wise, lucky too––the leader of the Hunt will let you go and stuff something in your boot. A post-it, on which is written the major that they chose, yet hated with every fibre of their being.

Now, put the boot back on and walk. It may be a bit awkward to walk around, what with the paper writhing under your feet, but do so anyway. Every student who has tried it reports that when they got back to their dorms, the paper had vanished from beneath their soles. In its place, they had gained a floating sensation, grafted in their bones.

By the end of the year, Ma-Boi-Blanche and Professor Redd were chattering away like old friends. The Professor had to admit that his student wasn’t very good at dissections, but there was an unmistakable passion for anatomy in his eyes, and he would improve soon. (Very soon, especially with Professor Redd’s talent of acquiring practice bodies, his jaunty hat growing redder with every new specimen.)

On the other side of campus, the law majors learned to listen for the click-clack of high-heeled loafers. Woe betide the unlucky people who faced off against Magenta, who suddenly threw herself into mock trials with gusto. Her opponents gained a Pavlovian fear response to seeing any shade of pink.

This did not go ignored. The Involved went up to the two, in order to warn them.

“The Gentry do not offer things for free,” they said. “And intelligence isn’t cheap. What in Morganwode did you pay?”

To which the ones who met the Huntsman merely laughed, because they weren’t any smarter. The only difference was that now, they were interested in the subjects they found so odious before.

In the old tales, a satisfied rider of the Wild Hunt will reward a human with meat. The person will walk back home in the dark, one shoe on and one shoe off, the boot growing heavier with every step. Once home, they will see that the raw, bloody meat has transformed into gold.

There are a few who still receive this, not always in the payment of gold, but in blessings. (Childe House’s oldest RA is one of them, which explains why the once-every-305-days evacuation has a 100% success rate, even when half a dozen residents don’t understand what a “mandatory house meeting” or a “fire drill” is.)

Which begs the question: why does the leader of the Hunt help so many?

Rewards are meant to be given to the exceptional few. Yet the unhappy are not part of these few. Given the number of students with newfound rapture in their eyes, one does not need to be exceptionally kind, clever, or daring to transfer their passions. Just wary, wise, and lucky are enough.

When asked, the leader of the Wild Hunt proclaimed that such a spell is child’s play. We’ve already provided the ingredients: two subjects and a passion. The price is low because all he needs to do is to sever the interest from one subject, then attach it to another. Simple work, he said. He would never think of charging so much for something he could do before breakfast. It is not befitting a warrior. Think of it as a favour from a father to his children, he said, then laughs as if there is a joke here that no one else understands.

There are more people who understand than he might think, for the more competent members of the Forbidden Major have another theory. Anyone with passing knowledge of folklore would be able to recognize this person at a glance, they say (quietly, and never to the Huntsman’s face). He is the amalgamation of ghost, fae and old god.

The first rider of the Wild Hunt might be, depending on the amount of fertilizer on the campus lawn and the moon phase, the oldest warrior poet. There are less battlefields for him to watch over now, but still he is song and madness. Still, he is overcome with fury when he sees yet another soldier buckle before the fight has begun.

This child would have made a fine skald. That child could have become a brilliant shield-maiden. This one had the makings of a king, yet they chose to push these futures away, he said through clenched teeth. These children began to think there was nothing left. They started to look at the pond and that single eighth-floor window which could open all the way.

This is not a battlefield, but… to give up before the horn sounds, under his watch?

Unforgivable, he said, with an unblinking smile, all teeth and lone glittering eye. To despair is to slander my hundred names.

So the leader of the Hunt casts a few spells here, a little trickery there, and coaxes the bright frenzy back in their eyes, or so the Forbidden Majors whisper. The price is only low because of who and why he is. He helps them so they can die more valiantly, another day.

Think of it as a favour from a father to his children, he says, then laughs as if there is a joke here that no one else understands. This is despite the fact that half the Forbidden Majors and a fifth of the Literature Majors know who he is.

(Not that they would reveal that, ever. The all-father’s wrath is a terrible thing.)

Addendum:

Statistics unavailable for those who encountered the Wild Hunt’s leader alone, while not wearing boots. Mythological references, as well as the Sword-House valet’s intuition, imply it is better not to know.

[Author’s Note]

I did not intend “Why You Should Wear Boots after Picking a Major You Didn’t Want” to be so long. Do pardon me.

There is much debate over the identity of the Wild Hunt’s leader. My personal favourite theory is that the leader is Odin, or some variant of him, which this submission is based on. Still, I couldn’t resist hinting at the others:

“Bedraggled man” = multiple stories, in which the Hunt’s leader is any hunter who preferred hunting to going to church, or else slandered a certain god

“King of old” = Arawn

“Harlequin” = in Vitalis’ Ecclesiastical History Vol. 2 (1140), Hellequin/Herlequin is the herald of a Wild- Hunt-esque procession of tortured souls. There is also King Herla.

“Sledder with a thick Mecklenburg accent” = Frau Gauden

-Louis

#Why You Should Wear Boots after Picking a Major You Didn’t Want #stories #long post #the wild hunt #odin #louis #thanks for the note on tags! was really helpful!#very vague mention of #suicidal ideation #loved this!

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bangtanscumslut · 2 years

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𝔅𝔗𝔖 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔪*𝔰𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔟𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤

Hyung Line

Namjoon :

Namjoon was at his company, practising for their next comeback. You suddenly had the urge to do the nasty with him but since he was unavailable, you decided to just pleasure yourself instead. You were sitting on the edge of your bed, clutching your phone in one hand while your other hand dipped into your panties, rubbing your clit. You matched your moans to the ones on the screen as pleasure ripped inside you like a lightning bolt. You slipped two fingers into your wet entrance and moaned out Namjoon's name, imagining his long fingers stretching you out. You were so engrossed in the feeling that you didn't hear the front door open and close. Namjoon heard your moans all the way from the hallway. He tiptoed to your room and pressed his ear to the door. "Oh fuck, yes, Joon.." you panted. The door suddenly burst open, making you jump up in shock and throw your phone aside. Namjoon stood at the entrance, grinning slyly at you. "Baby girl, couldn't you wait until I came home?" "Joon! I-" you threw yourself onto the bed and buried your face into the pillow in embarrassment. "Continue where you left off baby, I hope you don't mind me watching you though."

Jin :

It had been a while since you and Jin had sex. You were craving for some intimacy but he was super busy with his idol activities. He was sleeping peacefully after a very tiring day and you didn't want to disturb him. You were sitting on the couch watching TV but your thoughts were preoccupied with Jin's body. You thought back to the last time you had sex and immediately felt yourself get wet. Slowly, you slipped your hand into your panties. You shut your eyes and thought back to how Jin had fucked you so sensually the last time. You inserted two fingers and curled them into your walls. You tried to keep quiet but a loud moan escaped your mouth, and you immediately muffled it with your other hand. You continued to pleasure yourself, and almost reached your high when you heard footsteps coming from behind you. "Oh fuck," you whispered to yourself and pulled your hand out of your underwear. "Jaagi?" Jin walked in, yawning and rubbing his eyes. He noticed your flushed cheeks and the sweat on your temples. "What were you up to?" he stared at you suspiciously. "Nothing. Nothing at all," you said hurriedly, brushing your hair behind your hair. "I was just watching TV." Not satisfied with your answer, he scanned you from top to bottom, his eyes landing on the wet spot between your legs. He chuckled and pointed at it. "If you were going to do something like that, you should have just woken me up. I would have loved to watch."

Yoongi :

Yoongi had holed himself up in his studio since early in the morning, working on his new song. It was already late in the afternoon and he had refused to come out and eat something throughout the day. You cut up some fruit and went to his studio to give it to him. You hated that he would sometimes compromise his health because of music. You knocked on the door before letting yourself in. He raised his head from the pile of music sheets and acknowledged you. "Eat this. You need to stay healthy if you want to continue being a musician." You placed the fruits on the table in front of him and turned around to leave. "Baby, come here," he called out. You turned around to see him patting his thighs. You smirked and went up to him and sat on his lap. "Now you decide to give me attention, huh?" you asked. "I'm sorry babe, you know I can't help myself when I get bursts of inspiration," he said and kissed your neck. "I'll be done soon. Wait for me, okay?" You didn't want to bother him during his work time. You nodded and left the studio. The kiss had sent all your nerves on edge. You were sitting at the kitchen island, trying to cool the heat between your legs. You unlocked your phone in an attempt to distract yourself and started to scroll through Instagram. Unfortunately, the only content that seemed to appear on your screen that day was compilation videos of Yoongi looking hot as fuck. After watching a couple of videos, you couldn't control yourself anymore. You slipped out of the shorts you were wearing and sucked on your fingers before inserting them into your cunt. You shut your eyes and leaned against the island, shoving your fingers in and out of your dripping core. The only thing you could imagine was Yoongi eating you out; he was bloody amazing at it. You felt the knot build in your lower stomach and knew you were close to climax. You heard a door open and close and knew Yoongi was making his way in search of you. However, you didn't want to stop. You couldn't stop. The pleasure of your near climax didn't let you remove your fingers from your cunt. You massaged figure eights on your clit all the while finger fucking yourself. You saw Yoongi enter and stop in his tracks, looking at the state of you. A smirk made its way onto his lips and that was all you needed to tip over the edge. You screamed in ecstasy, cumming all over the kitchen stool. "Looks like I'm gonna have to order a new stool."

Hoseok :

You were building a puzzle with Hoseok for the past two hours. Eventually, you got bored and decided to take a shower. You invited him to join you but he declined the offer saying he wanted to continue building the puzzle. You pouted and made your way to the shower alone. You stripped your clothes off and stood under the water. You stared at yourself in the mirror that was right opposite the shower. Your mind replayed the memories of yesterday when Hoseok fucked you right in front of that mirror, bending you on the marble counter under it. Heat immediately rose between your legs and you crossed them in an attempt to contain it. The images of you and Hoseok doing the dirty refused to leave your mind, and you felt your nipples harden. You stepped out of the shower and opened the cabinet under the sink. You pulled out your favourite dildo, a medium-sized pink one and made yourself comfortable on the countertop by the mirror. You positioned the tip to your entrance and pushed it in slowly. Pleasure pulsated throughout your body, making you arch your back and causing goosebumps to erupt on your arms and legs. You continued to fuck yourself, imagining Hoseok's dick in place of the dildo. Hoseok had heard your moans and decided to go investigate them. He slightly opened the bathroom door to find you completely in a trance, fucking yourself. He was shocked at first, but soon, he felt himself getting hard at the scene happening in front of him. He pulled his dick out and began to stroke himself. You reached your climax shortly and moaned out Hoseok's name loudly. You opened your eyes to see him standing by the door, pumping his dick which was oozing pre-cum. "Hobi!" you gasped, snapping your legs shut. "Let me see," he demanded, his eyes fixed on the spot between your legs like lasers, all the while touching himself. "What?" "Let me see your dripping pussy."

#bts x reader #bts suga #bts jin #bts jungkook #bts v #bts namjoon #bts hoseok #bts one shot #bts reactions #bts smut #namjoon smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #bts mtl

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some-kindofgnome · 3 years

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tastes so bitter (tastes so sweet)

You’re driving back from an out-of-town mission with Hawks when your car breaks down on a very sparsely-populated highway. While you await relief, things get... personal.

characters: takami keigo (hawks) x f!reader

word count: 7.1k

warnings: smut (18+ please!), car sex, pro hero!reader, angst, emotionally unavailable hawks

notes: ta-dah!!! the car sex fic! this turned out way longer and way more feelsy than I ever intended it to be. but I’m grateful for the chance to show you how I play with plot and emotion as well as some good porn. porn with feelings, y’know?

EDIT: The supremely talented @la-saffron has created an absolutely spectacular piece of artwork for this fic! Please go and look at it right here, it’s really quite splendid

Masterlist

The shadowy trees on either side of the highway cast a chill across the pavement as the sky went dark.

It was far from sunset, but the woods were so tall and thick that the light had disappeared from the road a long time ago. The overpriced navigation system laid into the dashboard of Hawks’ luxurious car was no help at all; not when you were taking the only road for miles around.

The highway narrowly passed for two lanes, winding precariously down from the mountains. Dotted with reflective yellow signs- deer crossing, bear crossing, creatures-of-unimaginable-horror crossing. Bigfoot himself could have wandered into your headlights and you barely would’ve flinched.

But that was to be expected, given where you’d come from.

That day’s mission brought you both far, far away from the city. There was a national forest about three hours away- one of the biggest in the country- and you and Hawks had been called in at the crack of fucking dawn to drive all the way out to the woods and investigate some ‘strange reports,’ as the rangers cared to call them.

Most park rangers knew what they were seeing when guests came in from the woods reporting abnormal happenings. Nobody was truly immune to fear, though, when faced with the impossible.

Whether there were paranormal creatures lurking in those woods or not, you couldn’t have been sure. But after spending the day exhausting both your quirks combing every spare inch of those woods, you were relieved of your overnight duties by a group of other, more nature-savvy heroes.

Hawks had been miffed, but too exhausted to argue. He didn’t like to think he’d been overshadowed. You were just thankful to be going home to your own bed.

“Okay,” you sighed, nursing the last of a lukewarm soda from a burger joint at the edge of the only one-horse town you’d passed through. It was a pretty unassuming stop for dinner, but you and Hawks both agreed that the burgers were way too good to be sold to so few patrons.

Keigo was driving, with one palm splayed lazily across the bottom edge of the wheel. His scarlet wings stretched into the backseat, draping over the shoulders of his black leather backrest like some bizarre kind of seat cover.

The fact that his car was so luxurious was not lost on you- although you were more surprised to find out that he had one at all. Hawks seemed like the last person in the world to need a car, after living in a fantastic downtown penthouse. And owning a pair of wings, come to think of it.

He owned it because he could. And because he knew how good he looked in the driver’s seat.

“What?” He turned a curious eye toward you, though he never quite pulled his gaze from the road.

“I know we started this conversation on the way here,” you began, “but… we never exactly finished it.” You swirled what was left of the ice chips in the bottom of your cup, considering the best way to voice your thoughts.

“Alright.” He sounded vaguely amused, slouching a little further down and drawing an idle palm over his feathered hair. “Shoot.”

“Well…” You trailed off. “You’re kind of… a city guy.” You were already starting to talk with your hands. The racket coming from your half-drunk soda was proof enough.

“What makes you say that?”

“You are,” you defended. You let a playful edge creep into your tone. “And the agency’s kind of a city thing.”

“Am I really as one-note as you’re making me out to be?” He was chuckling. Your cheeks were going hot. You weren’t sure how this became a personal conversation, but you were determined to steer it in the proper direction. You course corrected.

“I just mean, we don’t take a lot of jobs outside the city. Like… ever. So, what’s with this one? Why this call?”

He didn’t answer right away. When you glanced across the car, he was licking his lips and appearing to be, very genuinely, thinking.

“Well,” he began. There was an immensely appealing depth that wore around the edges of his voice when he was deep in thought. You hung on tightly, trying your best to hide how intently you listened.

“I was just… bored, I guess.” He gave a lazy little shrug. His eyes were still trained on the windshield, but you could feel the weight of his urges. He wanted to look over. You turned your head, willing him to.

“Probably sounded like bullshit, now that I think about it,” he confessed, “but if there really was somethin’ freaky in those woods… I dunno. I wanted to see it.”

You resisted the urge to snort.

“Maybe you should start a ghost hunting branch at the agency.”

“Aw, c’mon,” he protested. This time, he really did drag his eyes away from the road for a second. They glinted playfully in the dark. You got a flash of pearly canine from the barest hint of a grin, but it was enough to put a stupid smile right across your face.

A sickening thud from beneath the hood zapped any false confidence you’d been building. There was a dull pop, then the engine died.

“What the- shit.” Hawks scrambled to put both hands on the wheel, navigating the car with what momentum remained over to the narrow shoulder. The tires hit gravel and soft mud, rolling pathetically to a stop and settling in damp silence.

“What the hell was that?” You leaned over the dashboard as your pulse came down from near-terminal velocity. There were half a dozen lights blinking away on the dashboard- symbols you couldn’t understand.

“Not sure.” Keigo was doing his best not to sound too perturbed. As a result, he was just perturbed enough.

You knew what those lights implied, though. Service due. Oil change due. Battery maintenance due.

“Jesus Christ,” you hissed, “when was the last time you took this car in for service? It’s a miracle you even made it out of the goddamn garage.”

Hawks was in the process of mashing the engine start button like an arcade game. When you spoke up, he pushed it down and held. The engine gave a dull, sad sort of sputter, but nothing roared to life.

“Look, look,” he dismissed, waving a hand in your direction as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I don’t drive this thing that often, okay? I’m gonna go check under the hood.”

He climbed out of the driver’s side and slammed the door before giving you the chance to remind him to pop the hood. For a minute, you let him wallow in his mistake, watching gleefully as he pried at the seam of it. Finally, you unbuckled yourself and leaned over, flicking the release for him.

He gave an unamused glance toward the windshield and lifted the hood, obscuring all but the very tips of his drooping wings from view.

After about fifteen seconds, he ducked back into the car with a rush of cold air behind him. He rubbed his palms together as you watched, arms folded over your chest.

“So?” You prompted. He gave a sideways glance in your direction, blowing into his chilled hands.

“So what?”

“Oh my g- what’s wrong with the car?” You tried your best not to let panic set in.

“I don’t know. It’s just a bunch of pipes and wires under there. They didn’t exactly give me a map of the thing when I bought it.”

You’d seen Hawks pull people out of burning buildings before. You’d see him think on his feet, devise a plan and act on it in the blink of an eye. Usually, he was impulsive. Confident. Clever.

Tonight, on the other hand, he was demonstrating a very clear affinity for money over brains.

You flopped into your seat, scrubbing your hands over your face. You were not going to freak out. You refused to. It didn’t matter that Keigo had suddenly become useless in the face of disaster. You were heroes, even if you had to save your damned selves.

“Oh,” he quipped from beside you. “Still got bars. See?” As you peeked over at him through one cracked eyeball, he waved his illuminated phone screen at you. “It could be worse, kid. If this were a horror movie, this thing’d be dead.”

He tapped away on the screen, seeming very pleased with himself. Even his wings gave a little ruffle, draping themselves smoothly over the back of his seat again.

“I’ll call us a tow. We’ll be outta here in no time.”

A few minutes later, you had a map pulled up on your phone while Hawks’ brow creased deeper and deeper.

“Uh-huh.” His voice had taken on that irresistible deepness to it again, but this time it was sending pangs of dread through your gut.

“Right.” He brought a palm up to smooth over his jaw, fingertips bending and pressing idly against the patches of scruff that dusted it. “Y-yep, yeah, I understand. Fifty miles is a long way. I know it’s gonna be a lot to send a truck that far. But-“

As he was abruptly cut off by the other end of the line, those idle fingers slipped up to his temple, pressing inward and rubbing in stiff little circles.

“Okay. Alright. Yeah, I guess we’ll wait, ‘cause there’s not much else we can… I understand. Yes, thank you. Thank you. Okay, we’ll be here. Or within a ten-foot radius. Thanks. B-“

He blinked rapidly at the screen as he pulled it away from his ear. “Have an excellent night, sir,” he muttered under his breath. He let out a deep sigh, lifting a hip to tuck his phone away again.

“They said they would send someone,” he said, “but the depot is, like, fifty miles from here. Could be a couple of hours.”

“A couple hours?” That cold dread was settling into your chest again. So much for sleeping in your own bed.

“Yeah. C’mon, get out.”

“What?” You glanced past him at the frosted driver’s side window. “It looks freezing out there.”

“Well then, you’d better bundle up. C’mon. I’m gonna fly us back to the city.”

“No way. Hawks- Keigo.” You grabbed his arm and squeezed tightly as he made to get out of the car.

“What?” Exasperation was creeping into the edges of his voice. The sides of his gaze, too, as he landed against the seat back with a thud and turned his cheek to look at you.

“You’ve been flying all day. Your wings are shot. You’re not flying anywhere.”

“What? They’re fine.” He gave the appendages in question a defiant flutter and a cloud of expiring feathers floated into the backseat.

You folded your arms across your chest. Hawks gave a frustrated growl.

“What do you suggest, then?” He retorted in fierce opposition to your silence. “Just sit around and fucking… die of old age before the tow truck comes?”

“Oh my god, you’re the number two hero,” you snapped back. “When did you become such a drama queen? Yes, we’re going to wait. Like a normal person would have to.”

“I’m not being dramatic; I’m presenting you with a legitimate solution and you’re ignoring it!”

“If you try to fly us both out of here, you’re gonna hit the ground before we’re halfway home. And then we’ll be really stranded, with no water and no shelter. So, if you’d like to fly back all by yourself, I can’t stop you. But I’m not going to let you kill both of us.”

“Fine!” Hawks’ cheeks were flushed with temper as he kicked the door open and clambered out of the car. He kicked it shut again so hard the whole body rocked, and for a moment you were left, trapped in shocked silence.

He was really going to leave you out here. Alone.

Half a dozen heartbeats passed before his boots crunched on the shoulder and he wrenched the door open again, flopping back into the car with an immense sigh of irritated defeat.

“Fuckin’ freezing out there,” he muttered as quietly as possible.

You wanted to punch him.

“You ready to wait?”

His wings stiffened behind him, then drooped so lowly they seemed to disappear into the backseat. He looked at you from the corner of one tawny eye.

“Yeah.”

For the first hour, you honestly enjoyed yourself. As soon as Keigo accepted his fate, he got much closer to his usual mellow self. You finished off cold fries from dinner, listened to true crime podcasts on your phone, (you listened- he talked over the whole thing) and played a few ruthless games of hangman on a couple of napkins you found in the glove compartment.

You’d spent a lot of time with Hawks in a professional capacity. As partners, you took most of your missions together. You were well-versed in the way that he liked to think, the way he approached a job, a conversation. You worked well with each other and you were drawn to his quick wit and laid-back humour. Even if he was a piece of work at times, you made a strong team. But you didn’t do a whole lot of hanging out.

“Okay, that’s it,” he chided as you added an extravagant top hat to the completed, dressed hangman scrawled onto the inside fold of your last napkin. The word he’d failed to guess was ‘patience,’ and the irony of his struggling was not lost on you.

“Aw, c’mon,” you protested. “You’ve still got gloves and a bow tie left.”

“No, no, no.” He held up a palm, shaking his head. There was a good-natured grin curling his lip as he bowed toward the door. “I’m callin’ it. I gotta take a leak.”

You snatched your soda cup from the drink holder, clutching it protectively against your chest.

“You’re not going in here.”

Next, it was Hawks’ turn to shoot you a deadpan stare.

“How about in the woods? Is that allowed?”

Your cheeks went hot. “It’s pretty dark out there.”

“Aw.” Hawks shoved the door open. There was an unfamiliar glint to his eye as he tossed a mischievous look over his shoulder. “Guess you won’t be able to sneak a peek, then.”

You slammed your fist into his back. “Shut up and go take a piss.”

As the car door clicked shut, you turned the other way out of sheer habit. All you could see in the opposite window was the reflection of your own face. Maybe it was just the dim light, but you looked exhausted. Keigo had seen you caked in blood, streaked by mud and soot before. But you’d both been awake since four o’clock that morning and there was a special kind of ugly feeling that came with overtiredness.

You were dreaming about the first thing you’d do when you got home again when Hawks climbed back into the car. He looked considerably brighter as he ducked inside, and he brought a flush of rich, earthy forest-smell along with him.

“Don’t tell me you couldn’t find it in the cold out there,” you quipped. Payback.

But Keigo just chuckled, shaking his head.

“Close the door,” you whined as the frigid air from outside finally reached your bare arms. “It’s already cold enough in here.”

“Aw,” he crooned, tugging the door shut behind him. “You scared of a little cold now, kid? It’s not so bad out there. Feel.”

He lunged at you, ducking rapidly to rub his frigid cheek against your shoulder. You let out a terse yelp and squirmed, trying to shove him back amid a sea of chilled giggles. He got a few passes of his icy skin on yours before you both realized how close you’d gotten.

Hawks cleared his throat and scooted away from you. In the bare light from the shitty overhead lamp, you were starting to see the outline of a flush creeping into his cheeks.

The light abruptly went out, leaving you in darkness again.

“Tell me something,” he mused, grabbing for the abandoned takeout bag and digging a hand into it. He produced a tiny wrapped square and tore it open with his teeth, removing the folded alcohol wipe from inside and gliding it with impossible grace over his fingertips. He eyed you sideways.

“How come we don’t hang out more?”

Your chest went cold. You’d been dreading that question all night. Longer than that, even.

“What d’you mean?” It was a gut response, but you instantly kicked yourself for even attempting to play dumb.

“You know,” he chided, dumping the wipe back into the paper bag once he was finished with it. “We work. We do interviews together. We do those bullshit PR functions together. I’ve known you- what, two years? And we’ve never even been for a drink. What gives, kid? Don’t tell me I grate on you.”

“I get plenty of you on company time,” you retorted. You were starting to panic. You weren’t ready for this conversation, but it didn’t seem like you were going to be rescued by the timely arrival of the tow truck.

“Okay, okay, I’d take that,” he laughed, “if you hadn’t agreed to take this mission with me. C’mon, this wasn’t exactly a nine-to-five gig.”

He paused. “Come out with me this weekend.” He nudged your shoulder with a bony elbow. You tried your best not to snap.

“Stop,” you pressed quietly. “You know why we don’t.”

The smirk slipped from Keigo’s face.

“What? Why?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Wait a second, there’s an actual reason? What the hell is it?”

The confusion was genuine on his face. Hawks could be a smarmy little shit when he wanted to be. But you could tell he wasn’t fucking with you.

“Oh my god.” The words slipped out like a deep breath. Your hand drifted to your mouth as cold shock ran over your skin. “You really don’t remember.”

“No.” His confusion was bordered with fear. He sat back a little, letting his eyes drift over your expression. “No, I really don’t.”

You swallowed hard. You should have known that you’d have to talk about this eventually. But he didn’t even remember the night that had been changing the way you acted around him for nearly a year.

“Last Christmas,” you began. Your breath was so short that it put a desperate hush to your voice that you absolutely hated. You revelled in your ability to act casual around him, but the more probing he got, the harder that composure was slipping.

“At the agency gala. You remember the party, right?”

Hawks rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, and I got trashed.” He paused. Realization dawned on his face, and he shot you the deepest, most sincere look of concern you’d ever seen. Even more sincere than the look that crossed his face when you got shot off the roof of a house and broke a rib.

He leaned forward.

“Did I do something?” He swept a palm over his mouth, fingertips dallying at his chin. You knew exactly how he felt in that moment. You’d been there before, too, realizing that you’d lost control. Blacked out. Understanding that you might have done something you were going to regret.

“You really don’t remember a thing?” It was your turn to be horrified. How could something that consumed your every thought stay so damned far from his?

His fingers were still curved around the point of his chin. He’d gone white, and he shook his head as his eyes cast down to his lap.

“You fucking kissed me, okay?” You snarled with a whip of frustration. “There was mistletoe and you kissed me under it and-and Christ, I can’t believe you.”

“What? What?” He demanded as his voice grew defensively sharp.

“I had no idea what you were gonna do. What you were gonna say, what was gonna change between us. I showed up to the agency the next morning and your hungover ass acted like nothing had ever happened.”

“Of course I did,” he defended, “I didn’t think anything did happen. Oh my God, did I really kiss you?” His wings were coming to life all of a sudden, bristling on either side of his seat. There was a dull whisp as one edge of them brushed against the window. They seemed to expand, along with his horror, to fill the entire car.

He pushed further. “Well, did you… did you want me to?”

You could see where his thoughts were taking him. The answer was an impossible dilemma. To lead him further down that path would not only be cruel, it would be untrue. But to tell him the truth- that you had wanted it- would be to shatter the fragile illusion of casual, platonic intimacy that you’d been building over the last two years.

You chewed your lower lip. Hard enough to hurt.

“Oh god, you didn’t,” he gasped. That was enough for you to lift your chin and shoot him a sudden, sad, pathetic little look.

“Jesus,” he gasped again, deeper this time. “You did.”

“Look,” you snapped. “I was never gonna say anything to you. I was never gonna push it. You didn’t feel that way and I knew that and I just wanted to work.”

He told you enough about his personal life as it was. Every date he swung in from on Monday morning, every Friday night he spent preening in the last hours of the workday hurt enough already. If you’d grown close, fallen harder, it would’ve become too much to bear.

“What do you mean, I didn’t feel that way? What way don’t I feel? How could you even know that?” He was beginning to raise his voice back at you and the adrenaline was pushing you way too far to listen.

“Because you never said a fucking word to me about that kiss! You pretended like it never even happened, Kei! What was I supposed to think!”

“If you’d asked me, you woulda known that I didn’t speak up ‘cause I didn’t remember a goddamn thing!” Keigo jammed a finger into his temple. His golden eyes flashed. He was so fucking hot when he was angry, but this was not a fight you ever wanted to have.

Luckily for you, he was having it without you.

“What do you want me to say to that?” He snarled. “Huh? What- you want me to tell you that I’m sorry for not having psychic powers? That I’m sorry I didn’t hire a mind-reader to tell me what the fuck was going on with you?”

He scrubbed his hands over his face. You were on the verge of tears.

“I-I never-“ you began, but Keigo beat you to the punch,

“You know, maybe I noticed that you were actin’ funny around me. And maybe I should’ve asked. But maybe if you ask yourself, and if you really, honestly give yourself the truest answer, you’d be able to admit that you knew how I felt about you. That you always knew.”

“Of course I knew!”

Your response echoed raw and deafening in the silence of the car. You’d lost your temper and shouted it at him with every decibel left in your breathless chest. Your fists were clenched atop your frigid thighs as you bent over in your seat, shivering. To your immense embarrassment, warm tears trickled down the sides of your nose.

He was right, after all. Every sideways smile he’d given you was just a little too broad to be friendly. Every time he caught you by the hand, he held it just a little too long. Every time he offered you the crook of his elbow at a stuffy charity gala and every time he poured you into a cab at the end of the night, he promised to take good care of you. Every time he looked at you at all it was with a depth that you had recognized, but never understood.

“But look at us, Kei. Look at what we do to each other.”

You sniffled, scrubbing tears off your cheeks with the heels of your hands. He reached for you, seeking to comfort, but his hands twitched midair and he drew back instead.

“Yeah,” he croaked. You tossed a glance in his direction. He looked more dejected than you’d seen him in a long time. He rested both hands on top of the wheel, the rest of his body sagging against the seat back.

“Except now I’ve told you,” you continued. “And now we both know, so everything’s fucked no matter what.”

You were met with silence. The truth was dawning on you. You hated to even consider it, but it felt like what needed to be done.

“When we get back to the city,” you started. Hawks interrupted you with a low rasp of your name.

“No, when we get back, I’m giving you my resignation.”

“Fuck, stop.”

Keigo lunged, grabbing you by the back of the neck and pulling you toward him. He rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. The warmth of his closeness weighed on you like a heavy quilt. You couldn’t even pretend not to be immensely comforted by affection from him.

“I’m not gonna let you do that, kid.”

You were both drawing deep breaths- slow, rolling gulps of air that matched over gradual time. You licked your lips, bracing your chilled palms on his shoulders. Your fingertips brushed the very edges of his feathered hair, dull and soft in the dark.

You’d talked each other down from bigger, badder edges before. But this one had sharp, jagged rocks waiting at the bottom. This one, you were going to have to jump from together.

“I can’t do this,” you pleaded. “I can’t keep myself away from you like this.”

“Don’t.” His voice was hushed and so achingly tender, like he couldn’t take the command himself.

“I can’t-“

“Then, don’t.”

He was firmer this time, and the pad of his thumb brushed the bottom of your lip. He pulled back just a hair, grazing the tip of his nose across yours. The heat of his breath puffed over your lips and his blonde eyelashes threatened to tickle your cheek.

He drew in a slow, calculated breath.

“Lemme kiss you. Lemme try again. I’m not gonna forget it this time, I swear.”

“Keigo, please.”

“Just lemme try. Just once. I’ll never ask you again, if you don’t want me to.” He pulled back the rest of the way and your body keened at the loss, but he looked deeply into your eyes. Deeply like he’d never been allowed to look before.

You licked your lips. Considered it for half a heartbeat. Then you gave a slow little nod.

“Okay.”

To your surprise, he didn’t lunge again. He took his time with you. He cupped your cheeks tenderly between his bare palms, memorizing the curve of your face. He stared, taking you in like this. At his mercy.

Finally, he leaned in and captured your mouth in a soft kiss, heartbreakingly loving. You responded eagerly, blossoming beneath his touch and bracing your hands on the broad plane of his chest. Your fingers curled in the fleece that lined his coat.

You kissed back with near-desperate urgency, shamelessly showing him how touch-starved you’d become. Dating was pointless when Keigo stole your whole heart every time you showed up to work.

The quiet press of his tongue had your jaw going slack in his hands. Your kiss went needy all at once, and he licked into your mouth with a hunger behind his movements that you never anticipated sensing from him.

You broke from him first, turning your cheek to him as your lungs burned. Your mouth was swollen, and you gasped greedily for whatever stale air lingered between you. He grabbed your chin and forced your eyes back to his.

His gaze was fearsome. Ravenous. You were powerless beneath it.

You combed your fingers through his hair like you’d always wanted to, settling your palm at the nape of his neck. Your own voice was nearly unrecognizable, nothing more than a feral growl.

“Get in the back.”

Hawks took one look at the narrow gap between his seat and yours and sat up, nudging the driver’s side door open. He climbed eagerly into the road and then back into the back seat, settling in the center with his legs and wings splayed wide.

Meanwhile, you took the opportunity to wiggle out of your boots and pants and slam dunk everything into the foothold of the passenger’s seat. You climbed over the center console in your underwear and settled into his lap.

Even though you had to bow your head against the cushioned ceiling, it was a holy sensation. Your thighs settled perfectly into the crooks of Keigo’s legs, and his hands slid so naturally over the curves of your hips. It was as if you’d done this before.

You kissed him again, using the weight of your newly boosted height to descend hard and loving against his lips. He grabbed you hard by the ass, drawing you smooth and tight against his hips.

“God,” he groaned eagerly into your mouth.

“You’re so. Fucking. Perfect,” you hissed back into his, and he squeezed you harder, breaking his lips from yours to trail a hungry path of kisses along the edge of your jaw. His scruff scratched at your chin just like you imagined it would. You loved him like this- trimmed, unshaven. The rougher, the better.

“Don’t say that,” he purred dangerously close to your ear. “You’ve seen me at my worst.”

You tried not to grin, remembering Keigo barfing over the balcony of the Plaza after one too many charity-benefit martinis. Keigo caked in ooze after cutting open that sludge villain from the inside. Keigo on the verge of tears, just a few minutes ago.

“I still think so,” you pressed, and he smiled against your cheek. His wings, tired and bruised but majestic as ever, stiffened proudly. They were capped firmly by the cramped space that surrounded you, but the feathers that spread across the back seat were sleek and graceful.

You dug your fingertips between his jacket and his t-shirt, feeling the warmth of his torso all over. He did his best to shrug it open, but the material was caught up on his wings- no getting it off now.

He wound his hands into the hem of his shirt and tugged it up for you. The skin you could feel by slipping your fingers underneath was all you were going to get.

Not that it mattered to you. It was far more than you’d let yourself so much as picture before. While you felt your way across his heated abdomen, he dipped his head to your pulse point. He scraped the points of his teeth across your tender flesh, making you sigh and shiver. He pressed a hand to the small of your back to keep you close and nibbled all the way down to your neckline, leaving a trail of tiny welts in his wake.

They would fade by morning. Tonight, the feeling was enough.

He glided smooth, tender fingers up your sides. You straightened, letting him wedge your long-sleeved t-shirt up around your shoulders. You had to bend even further and press your forehead awkwardly against his shoulder to wrench it off. Once he peeled the fabric over your head, you tossed it haphazardly toward the front seat. Keigo was already going to work on his fly.

The tender press of his erection had grown apparent by that point, stiff and needing down one thigh of his thick pants. You reached between your legs and palmed it indulgently. There was an answering throb of arousal in the pit of your belly as you felt the shape and thickness of it trapped against his body, and an even stronger one when his hips pressed into your touch and he gave a low rumble of approval.

“Don’t act so surprised,” he crooned. With his pants unfastened, and the bulk of his cock shifted to the stretchy pouch of his undershorts, he slid a fingertip down the plane of your belly and curled two graceful digits between your thighs.

“Are you wet for me yet?” He shot you a deep, lustful stare. You rocked your hips against his fingers, hopeless in resisting the pleasure he offered. Keigo nudged the crotch of your thong easily aside, dipping his middle finger against your slit.

He sucked a sharp breath through clenched teeth as you gave a simultaneous yelp of stimulation. When he looked up at you again, he bore a sly little grin. You’d seen it a thousand times before, but never with such desire. And never all for you.

“You’re drippin’, kid.” He arched his palm, slipping that finger slowly upward and easing it inside you. There was no stretch, but the sensation of intimacy- of being felt in such a way by those hands that you’d never dared to fantasize about- was intoxicating in its own right.

Keigo was, apparently, feeling it, too. His eyes were deeply lidded, glazed completely by his own desire. The tip of his cock had found its way over the waistband of his undershorts, weeping shiny precum against his stomach and the bottom of his shirt.

He curled a blunt fingertip inside you, massaging your tender front wall. The feeling rappelled up the column of your spine and brought deep trembles forward. It brought fresh handfuls of wet slick from your depths, gliding down his palm and between his fingers. He took the hints your body offered and rubbed faster, watching the way your expression morphed from desire to pleasure.

“Stop,” you hushed, leaning forward and pushing your lips to his. He drew his hand back from you immediately, settling it on your thigh. The wet little print it left against your skin wasn’t lost on you.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” you replied. “Just ready for you.”

He gave a low, loving little chuckle and shifted beneath you. “Can’t hold out any longer?”

You smiled into his hair. “Don’t want to.”

“Fair enough.” His smile was even, but the tug in his voice betrayed his fraying nerves. It thrilled you to know that you weren’t the only one putting way too much emotional stock in this. It was immensely validating to discover that he’d been anticipating it, too.

He wiggled and squirmed against the backseat, shucking his pants and underwear down over his thighs and letting his cock pop out. It bobbed against his stomach- thicker than you’d imagined- framed by a trimmed scruff of tawny hair that disappeared under his shirt.

“Fuck,” you sighed in spite of yourself.

“I know, right?” He rasped. He reached for you, cupping your jaw. He brought your forehead down to his, giving a weak laugh. “What the hell have we been waitin’ for?”

“We just needed the bottle episode to shove us together,” you giggled. “C’mon, we’re a walking trope right about now.”

“We’re about to become a different trope if you don’t let me fuck you.” It was his turn to play the desperate card. But the ache between your thighs had not dulled, even a little.

He wrapped his fingers around the base of his shaft and you lifted your hips. He gave the heated tip a playful little swipe along your slick slit, but his game backfired when both of you let out tight cries of sensation.

You rocked your hips forward, taking his tip eagerly inside. The sensation was toe-curling, made even better by the way he held you tightly against him, nosing at your ear and kissing any patch of skin he could reach.

He brought his free palm to your ass as soon as you were situated, helping you slide the rest of the way onto his cock. With your knees braced on either side of his lap and your feet pressed tightly against the front seat, you let him bottom out. And for a moment, you just sat there.

“Jesus,” Keigo sighed, lolling his head against the seat behind him. You still had your head deeply bowed, trapped in the space that seemed just an inch too tight.

“I…” Your thighs shuffled. Your hips gave a little squirm. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough. Keigo cracked an eye and lifted his chin, sensing a problem.

“What’s the matter?”

“I just…” Your cheeks went hot. You licked your lips. “I can’t move.”

His gaze cast downward, to the place where you were joined. He took in the press of your thighs, the curve of your neck. He snorted.

“No, you can’t. C’mere, kid, I gotcha.” He planted that palm on your ass again, drawing your hips forward and up, as far as you could take them. Your head and neck bowed with the rest of your back as he draped your upper body over his chest and held you tightly against him.

Then he planted his feet and gave one good, deep thrust. Your innards gave a jerk. Oh, fuck.

“That’s it,” you panted into his ear. He nodded tensely.

“Yeah?” He prompted. “That’s workin’ for ya? Alright, alright. We’ve got this, kid, c’mon. Lemme show you somethin’ good, okay?”

One thrust sent you spiralling. But the rhythm that he dove into- steady, tough, fluid- sent every nerve through your body into meltdown. You were entirely incapable of dealing with such pleasure, combined with the emotions that swirled through your lovestruck brain.

It felt as though you had been holding out needlessly for all this time. Like all the hurt and frustration and heartbreak you shed over him would be evaporated, now that you understood that he wanted you like this, too.

Like that was all there was. You, Hawks, and the free love you could now share.

“I’m n-not-“ Keigo stuttered, piping up after a series of breathless pants and airy groans, “n-not gonna last much longer, kid, you’re… really gonna make me feel it.”

“Yeah,” you breathed back. You looped your arms tightly around his neck, tilting your hips forward. You could feel the barest hint of stimulation when your clit brushed his belly, so you leaned into it- aching for your own release.

His rhythm doubled as the intensity of your pleasure spiked dangerously high, and when you gripped him hard and rocked your hips in time with his, there was a low, warning pull that echoed all the way up to your throat. You were close. Very close.

Your head dropped backward and Keigo leaned forward, drawing his mouth up the vulnerable column of your throat. He panted hard and heavy against your pulse point.

“That’s it, kid, that’s fuckin’ it, baby, oh, God, I’m g-gonna f-fucking… I- shit, I- can’t… fffuck!”

Keigo let a vicious roar tear from his throat as he reached his vibrant peak. His erratic thrusts brought you to a tight little climax, too, and you clung to him and whined and rode through the pleasure as he fucked madly up inside you, spurting messy shots of cum into your depths.

Gravity took hold of his pleasure, dripping it onto his shaft and pooling it in a sloppy mess between you. And when it was all finally over, you collapsed against his body and you both stayed, airless and spent, wrapped tightly around one another.

It was the bright flash of headlights on the back of his neck that brought you to the surface, moments later.

The inside of the car was warm and stuffy and damp. Had you just come in from outside, you might have realized that it reeked of sex. Sweat and breath and fluid and feeling. The windows were near-opaque, fogged by the dampness of your lovemaking.

It was a moment you might have loved to capture, if you weren’t about to be so rudely interrupted.

The light in your rear windshield was bright white and flashing orange. Unmistakable.

“The tow truck,” you wheezed, scrambling off of Keigo’s lap. “Oh, fuck.”

“Get dressed,” he muttered weakly, already scrambling to get himself cleaned up and decent. He was far more dressed than you were, so you did your best to climb back into the passenger’s seat and slide back into your own clothes. You banged your shin hard on the center console, and your head on the ceiling as your body flailed in retaliation. You crumpled into the front seat and nearly kneed yourself in the mouth trying to scramble back into your pants.

By the time you climbed out of the car, fully dressed, with a few additional bruises, Hawks was already standing on the shoulder, talking to the driver. The driver was wagering a few guesses on what might be wrong with the car. Hawks’ eyes had already glazed over.

“Hey,” he greeted, as he spotted you emerging over his shoulder. He introduced you quietly to the driver before the ballcap-wearing, bearded man spoke again.

“Yeah,” he gruffed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll give you a lift to garage nearby. It’s kinda late, but he keeps weird hours. I bet he’ll take a look for you, it’s prob’ly an easy fix.”

“That sounds great,” you gushed, clasping your palms together. There was a lot of stiffness settling in around your hips and thighs. You couldn’t be sure if it was a result of the compromising position you’d nearly been discovered in or the whole lot of not moving you’d done for hours before that.

Either way, it felt good to stretch your legs.

“You c’n go ahead and hop in the back,” the driver directed, waving the key that Keigo had apparently already given him in indication. “I’ll get you hooked up, no problem.”

Keigo opened the truck door for you, and you climbed over the passenger’s seat into the back. He followed closely behind you, tugging the door shut and slouching into the opposite side.

You sat in silence; hands clasped between your knees. A confusing air settled between you.

You felt vulnerable and raw and moony. You wanted to hold his hand and curl up to him in the back seat. Kiss his cheeks and tell him how good it was, tell him how much you felt.

For you, though, it could never be that simple. There was no free love for heroes like you.

Pay later, always.

Keigo felt the weight of your gaze. He turned to meet your eyes and shot you a thin smile. You’d seen the look that he’d turned to hide from you, though.

The truck driver climbed into the front seat before words could pass between you. But you didn’t need to hear them to know what they were going to be.

You didn’t need a warning to understand what Monday morning at the agency was going to look like.

#hawks x reader #hawks #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo #hawks x you #takami keigo x you #boku no hero academia #mha fanfic #my hero academia #bnha fanfic

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