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honeybunnybeez · 3 years

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If you want to you could write some C! Dream being soft around reader?

Secluded Cabin's and Gentle Touches

♡Pairing: Dream x GN!Reader (with hints of platonic!GN!reader x Tommy and Tubbo)

♡Genre: Fluff

♡Format: Fanfiction

♡Summary: It's not uncommon for Tommy and Tubbo to bring people over to your place so you can help calm them down after a prank, but today they seemed to drag by a familiar face that you have yet to properly spend time with. Lucky for you, he seems to be longing to talk to you as well.

♡Au Setting: Au where the war never happens but tensions are still high.

"Get back here!"

Despite the voice ordering them to stop, Tommy and Tubbo continued to run like their lives depended on it, and to be fair, it kinda did in this situation. Wet hands stained in different coloured dyes served as proof of their crimes and a green hooded man wearing an awfully smudged looking mask makes it clear who their latest prank victim was.

"What were we fucking thinking!?" but a laugh at the end of his yelling as he dodges Dream's outstretched hand makes it clear that Tommy doesn't regret his life choices at all.

"I don't know!" Tubbo on the otherhand, was starting to regret his involvement in the prank. His legs were starting to ache and his chest began to burn as he slowly became exhausted. A wild chase like this isn't exactly new to them but Dream's persistence really makes it hard for a person to catch a breather between runs. "Tommy, where are we even going!?"

Tommy opened his mouth to respond but a trail of scattered lanterns and torches answers Tubbo's question for him. Tubbo lets out a knowing, "ooooh!" And uses whatever remaining energy he can to keep up with Tommy, knowing exactly what his friend had in mind.

In the distance, they can see you sitting on your porch, playing with a parrot you had managed to tame while out searching for cocoa beans. Relief washes over them when you lock eyes with them and start jogging over with your bird in tow, a worried expression evident on your face.

They're quick to hide behind you when they get close enough, clutching the back of your shirt while trying to catch their breaths to answer your questions as to who they were running from this time and why.

"Dream-" is all Tommy can manage to wheeze out before he's coughing up a lung and swearing again.

"Ah," honestly, after knowing the pair for a good few years now, just mentioning a name gives you a pretty good idea of the type of prank they pulled and the danger they could be in. Thankfully, Dream wasn't a major threat, to you at least.

"Alright, alright, go hide in the house quickly and don't come out until I tell you guys to. If I die, make sure to take care of the farm animals and bees for me."

"Bless you, (y/n)."

"Your sacrifices won't be in vain, we promise!"

You give them a joking salute and urge them to go inside quickly, informing them that you can hear Dream approaching closer. Once the boys were safely inside, you tried your best to look as natural as possible with the limited time you had to adjust yourself. When Dream arrives, you can see that he's just as tired as the boys are thanks to the chase, though his stance continues to be tense as he frantically looks around for them, fists clenched tight until his knuckles turned ghost white.

"Fuck, where did they run off to?"

"Not gonna give a stranger a kind hello after walking onto their lawn with murderous intent?" You and Dream weren't really strangers per say, you had to meet up with him when you moved into the server after all, but due to conflicting schedules and how often Tommy and Tubbo dragged you away whenever he tried to make conversation, you two didn't know each other all that well. That doesn't mean that you didn't want to try though.

When Dream realizes where he was and who he was talking, he's quick to adjust his mask and hoodie to make himself look somewhat... presentable, as presentable as he can look with sweat marks and a messed up mask at least.

'Why did those two have to run up to your house out of all places,' Dream mentally whines to himself, clearing his throat and giving you a single awkward wave as he walks up to you.

"Hey, (y/n). I didn't know you lived in this part of the server," that was a lie. Dream did know where you live, he knew where everyone did but it would be a little creepy to just put that information out there, wouldn't it?

"It'd be a little weird if I just started screaming out my address to random people on the streets, wouldn't it?" You try to joke, earning a little laugh from Dream.

"Okay, yeah, you got me there."

You pat an empty spot beside you on your porch step, inviting Dream over for a bit of rest and he accepts your offer gratefully, practically slumping beside you as he suddenly feels just how tired he is.

"Love the new look you gave your mask by the way," Dream groans at your teasing and pulls at his hoodie strings, hoping to cover his whole mask with his hood. He's glad you can't see his face right now because he can feel his cheeks practically burning at the fact that when he finally gets a chance to talk and get close to you it's when he's a sweating tired mess who looks like a wreck at best.

"I'm going to kill those two when I find them," he mumbles under his breath.

The slam that follows within your home could not have been more terribly timed.

"What was that?"

"Must be my wolves," you lied through your teeth, knowing damn well that your actual wolves were sleeping in your bedroom, "they learned how to open doors recently, I think they're messing around at the moment."

While he's distracted, staring at your window to check what's going on inside of your home, you're quick to read through your most recent private messages on your communicator.

Tommy: HE'S HERE!

Tommy: (Y/N), WHY AREN'T YOU TELLING HIM TO FUCK OFF!?

Tommy: Fuck this, we're hiding in the kitchen.

Tubbo: We're making a run for it through the back.

Tommy: We'll hide in your barn like runaway children.

Tubbo: Isn't that what we technically are right now?

Tommy: (y/n), we're making a fucking run for it if you don't answer us in 3 seconds.

Tommy: 3!

Tommy: 2!

Tubbo: We'RE OUT! I REPEAT, WE'RE OUT!

"Yup," you pop your P a little at the end, annoyed yet amused at the string of frantic messages still continuing to pop up on your communicator as they make their escape, "definitely my wolves causing all of that chaos."

Dream knows that you're lying from the way you read through your messages but he doesn't say a word about it, choosing instead to take this golden opportunity to get closer to you without worrying about anyone getting in the way.

"Not really how you thought the day would go, huh?"

You can't help but laugh and shake your head, "Not at all, I thought it was just going to be another boring day with my bird, but hey, I'm glad you showed up to make it a little more special."

"Really?" Dream hates how happy he sounds to hear you say that, but he'll beat himself up over it another time.

"It's not everyday you see Mr. WasTaken himself visiting your humble home, now is it?" Oh, or maybe he won't.

"I guess not, that really should change, shouldn't it?" You can hear the little grin in his voice as he realizes the game your playing.

"It really should, but a quick heads up would be good, unless you'd like to deal with said 'wolves' I mentioned earlier."

He chuckles and shakes his head, mentioning how he's more than aware that those two 'wolves' of yours would probably rip him apart if he ever visited you unannounced.

It isn't long before you invite Dream inside, offering to help clean his mask as an apology on the boys's behalf. He claims that he doesn't mind but he would rather not take his mask off in front of you when he hasn't gotten to know you all that well.

"You don't have to remove it if you feel uncomfortable, I'll just wipe away whatever I can with a cloth, but if you're still hesitant, I'd understand."

He takes a moment to consider your offer, trying to see if you have any other ulterior motives. It's not that he doesn't want to trust you, he does, but sometimes you just have to be a little extra cautious even with people you like. Sensing no ill intent on your part though, he relaxes himself once more and accepts your help, letting his hood finally loosen and fall back to ease your process.

Your actions are incredibly comforting to Dream who can't help himself from leaning into your touches every once in a while. He watches you with his fullest attention as you wipe away the mess on his mask with a damp cloth. He loves how focused you look while doing so, taking in every little quirk you may have while you concentrate. His little crush on you that he's harboured ever since he saw you running around the server can't help but grow every second you give him your attention.

There's a certain draw to you that Dream can't fight off no matter how hard he tries, you just manage to hold a certain power over him and that was evident by the fact that he completely lost interest in continuing his hunt for Tommy and Tubbo even after finding out that they were still most likely on your property. Dream was a persistent man, he was never one to simply drop something with no proper reason at all. There was just this appeal to you that he couldn't describe and he was desperate to find out what it was about you that made him act differently than he normally would.

"Okay then, that's the last of it," he has to stop himself from letting out a whine when you pull your hands away from his mask, he wants to say something to try to get you to continue on longer but decides against it, not wanting to seem desperate. His eyes don't leave you even after you pull away, watching you rinse off the dirty cloth before throwing it into what seemed to be a bin filled with laundry. When you return to sit by his side, he can't help but swallow a bit of his pride to rest his head on your shoulder. It's a big risk to take, but at least he has an excuse for his actions if he ever needs it.

"Tired, Dream?"

"Mhmm," he feels himself melt when you let your fingers run through his slightly sweat damp hair, clearly unphased by the state of it much, to his joy.

"You wanna rest here for a while? I'm sure you could get a good nap in before leaving."

"That depends, can I still use you as my pillow?"

"Not like I have anything else to do for the rest of the day, knock yourself out."

"Then if you'll excuse me," his head is quick to leave your shoulder to instead rest in your lap and the blissful sigh he lets out escapes his lips before he can even stop himself. You just feel so comfortable to him. "I'm gonna drift off, wake me up in an hour or so, will you?"

You let out a hum in response and it isn't long before you start to see Dream's body go slack, his breathing now steady and deep as he slowly falls asleep. It's quite endearing seeing Dream act so affectionately towards you, something you certainly didn't expect from a guy who carries himself with a subtle wave of authority, but you definitely weren't complaining as you continued to play with his hair once again.

Dream would never tell a single soul about it, but this was quiet possible the best sleep he's gotten in years, if he even tried to sleep at all to begin with. The thought to just slow down and relax is never really on his mind, his head always spinning with things he has to do. However, with you, he's glad to know that he can look to you for comfort from now on, something he now realizes is rather hard to find on the server. It pains him to know that he'll have to leave in just a few moments but for now, he'll take what he can get from you and maybe, if you let him, he'll be sure to return your sweet gestures tenfold one day.

A/N: Hello, everyone! I am so sorry for being absent recently, I know the writer's block excuse can only go so far but- yeah ^^' I'm so sorry again for everything and I'm sorry if this isn't what you were hoping for anon! Thank you so much for the rquest and feel free to request it again if you want me to remake this to hopefully suit what you wanted. Anyways, I hope you all have a good day and thank you so much for reading!

(Requests are open and anon is on!)

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #dream smp x reader #dream smp imagine #dream x reader

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honeymoonjin · 4 years

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 9k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: medical play, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, multiple orgasms, fingering, dirty talk, bondage, ruined orgasm, unprotected sex, squirting, oral (m receiving), cum eating (not yoongi for once), this was meant to be a light palate cleanser after the intensity of day ten but i got lost in my feelings in the first half and then got horny over doctor jeon in the second half i apologise

banner designer @jamaisjoons | thank you my darling SFHS babies ! i love you

DAY ELEVEN

“I think you should be a little more concerned, PD.”

Sejin flattens the two men - oldest and youngest of the house - an unimpressed look. Jungkook tries not to wilt under his gaze. “And why is that?”

Jin clears his throat, staring right back unabashedly. “Tae’s been involved in a terrible accident and you’re just waiting here. You should be rushing over to the house to save him.”

“A terrible accident?” Sejin questions monotonously, before turning in his chair to angle his monitor so that both boys can see. On the screen is a freeze frame of a very familiar scene - Taehyung crouching on the bottom of the stairs, Jin and Jungkook huddled around him.

Ah, Jungkook realises with sinking disappointment, the cameras. Once the producer clicks play on the recording, Jungkook is faced with the HD version of himself gesture excitedly, patting Taehyung on the back and pointing to the banisters.

Cheeks flushing, the youngest member of the house watches in dread as Sejin plays back the evidence of Taehyung willingly forcing his head through two banisters, ears popping out the other side as he glances up with a beam at Jin.

Having seen enough, Sejin pauses the video, and switches back to the realtime feed. “An accident, was it?” Sejin repeats rhetorically as the Taehyung on the security camera drums his fingers lazily against the wood posts, letting out a lionlike yawn. “I’m not an idiot, you know.”

Jungkook bites down hard on his tongue. This wasn’t how things were meant to go at all. Behind Sejin’s desk, the majority of the production van is filled with all the mess of a regular office. Stacks of paper, scribbled sticky notes on various surfaces, a large whiteboard with roughly handwritten schedules and a small game of naughts and crosses in the bottom right corner. Jungkook tries not to let his eyes dwell on the whiteboard too long. Don’t raise anymore suspicion.

Beside him, Jin shamelessly shrugs with a smile. “He put his head through the bars on purpose, sure, but he got stuck on accident.” The oldest - though still younger than Sejin himself - emphasises this distinction with a single outstretched finger and an arch of his eyebrows. “So you should go help him.”

Sejin slips his glasses off and lets them clatter to the table, pinching his brow with two fingers. “Am I gonna get there and have Taehyung ask me for the latest issue of Chinese Vogue?”

Jin stiffens, his mask temporarily shattered. “I requested that in confidence.”

The production manager throws his hands in the air in defeat. “How was I supposed to know which of your bogus requests was confidential? Just half an hour ago I got a call from my superior asking why #getjinanXL was trending. You tweeted that you wanted me to buy you extra large condoms because you ‘ran out.’”

“Well, that was obviously a joke,” Jin rebuffs easily. “You know I use Magnum.”

“How would I-?” With a huff of desperation, Sejin shakes his head to clear his mind. “No, okay, back to…”

Zoning out, Jungkook’s eyes are caught by the sight on the screen as another figure walks out into the foyer. Yoongi rushes forward once he sees Taehyung, crouching on the other side of the bars as he delicately prods around Taehyung’s face and neck. The younger man waves him away in frustration, pushing at Yoongi’s chest until he gives up and leaves reluctantly. Jungkook bites his lip and looks away.

Whoops. Staring right at him are the producer and the therapist, each as expectant as the other. “Huh?”

Sejin huffs. “Why would Taehyung intentionally stick his head through the bars of a staircase banister?”

“Tell him, Jungkookie,” Jin adds with a bump of his shoulder.

“Uh…” With a hard swallow, Jungkook’s mind whirls. “He… We were… measuring,” he finishes awkwardly. “Me-measuring Tae’s head.”

“You were measuring Taehyung’s head?” Sejin repeats flatly. “With the stair banister?”

Jungkook shrugs with what he hopes is a ‘what can you do?’ expression, laughing nervously. “We couldn’t find a ruler.”

Sejin blinks once. “Then how would you know how wide the gap between posts was? Without a ruler?”

“Oh.” Jungkook stares in barely subdued panic at Jin, who widens his eyes meaningfully, urging him to turn back to the awaiting producer. “We, um, we didn’t think that far. We’ll know for next time?”

“If you want to stay on this show, there will be no next time,” Sejin warns.

Jungkook ducks his head in shame. “Sorry, dad.”

“Y- what?” Jungkook hears Sejin cough lightly, flustered. “Please, Jungkook, that’s not appropriate.”

The youngest gives a little bow. “I apologise, Father.”

Sejin clicks his tongue. “Okay, that’s even worse.”

Jungkook glances up, brows knitting and head tilting in confusion. “...whoopsies, daddy?”

Sejin buries his face in his hands, fingers tugging at the hairline. Jungkook spots several grey strands.

Clearing his throat, Jin steps forward slightly. “Taehyung is still stuck, PD.”

“Okay, fine! Fine,” Sejin announces, pushing his chair away from the desk and standing up. “But if there is a single other incident like this, I’m calling in child protective services and getting them to baby-proof this place. No more funny business. Understood?”

“No more. Promise,” Jungkook assures sweetly, heart soaring as Sejin slips past them, hurrying out of the production van and towards the front door of the villa.

The moment he’s well out of earshot, Jin claps his hands once with a victorious grin. “It was a bit touch-and-go there,” he admits, “but that’s bought us time. Quick; get the whiteboard, I’ll grab some pens.”

Jungkook grins. Like secret agents, hyung and him were. Moving quickly, the two of them manage to sneak out the whiteboard from the van, trundling it noisily across the gravel, around the back of the house.

---

“I’ll be honest,” Jimin drawls, “I don’t understand why we couldn’t have just chatted about this. Is the whiteboard really necessary?”

Taehyung deflates immediately, one hand still rubbing at the red marks on his jaw and ears. “What do you mean? I suffered for this whiteboard, Minnie.”

It’s crowded; five people huddled inside the confessional booth. But apart from the bathrooms and the rec room, this was the only place without live security cameras - purely because the only camera needed was the one for the confessionals themselves - and Jin and Jungkook doubted they’d be able to smuggle a very noisy whiteboard into the rec room when Sejin was directly outside it lubing up Taehyung’s neck with aloe vera gel.

While Producer Shin had been lured away by Jin with the promise of a homecooked meal, the four youngest men in the house were bundled into the garden shed, staring at a whiteboard that had barely fit through the door.

Jimin, still unconvinced, shrugs. From his spot perched delicately on Namjoon’s lap he watches the two younger men take a picture of what’s written on the whiteboard, then rub it all out. The man of the hour, Namjoon had been given the right to sit on the only proper chair in the room, the one the producer would normally sit in. Beside it, the wooden stool sits unoccupied. Jimin told the others that he was sitting on Namjoon’s lap because the stool was too uncomfortable, but Jungkook thinks there’s something deeper in the way he relaxes onto Namjoon’s chest, the academic alert but not tense underneath him.

Or perhaps being on this show has made Jungkook more suspicious.

“The whiteboard was vital, hyung,” he defends adamantly, grabbing one of the pens Jin-hyung had handed him, yanking off the cap with a satisfying click. Immediately the alcoholic smell of ink tingles his nostrils, but he ignores it, turning to the others. “What if Namjoon-hyung was a visual learner?”

From behind Jimin’s back, Namjoon adjusts the bridge of his glasses. “I- actually I learn best through listening.” His hand drops, hovers over the space both him and Jimin share, then rests awkwardly on the armchair. “But I appreciate the thought.”

Namjoon-hyung is so cute. “It’s okay,” Jungkook assures, suppressing the endeared grin that tugs at his lips, “We can brainstorm out loud, and Tae and I will just take notes.”

With Taehyung in his Sunday best (well, a button-up shirt so baggy it looked like he hat batwing sleeves) and Jungkook having dug out his glasses to look extra smart, the two of them were prepared to make this as academic as possible for Namjoon. Even after getting laid for the first time, academics were his comfort zone, and the two youngest were happy to oblige.

“First things first; what was it you had to do? Honeymoon?”

Jimin leans back on Namjoon’s shoulder so the taller man can see past. Namjoon shakes his head lightly, his purple hair in serious need of a touch-up; the natural brunette frames his face now, emphasising his brow. Jungkook wonders if he’d let him dye it a new colour, just for something fresh.

“Just husband and wife,” the academic corrects, “It didn’t specify, uh, anything else.” His voice is still quiet, as if speaking on it is taboo. One day he’ll get used to discussing sex openly, but until then, the others will meet him halfway.

“Okay, so, Y/n is your wife,” Jungkook states with a nod, “do y’all have kids? Is it a newlyweds situation? We need backstory here.”

The squeaking of a pen catches Jungkook’s attention before he even finishes speaking. To his right, Taehyung writes in sharp strokes across the board.

Y/N PREGNANT

“It’s the nineteen thirties,” Taehyung announces in a smooth voice, eyes finding each member in the room, “war is imminent, and worldwide men are preparing to be conscripted. Every moment spent with their loved ones is precious, and for General Kim Namjoon,” Taehyung pauses to draw a gangly stick figure giving a salute, “him and his wife Y/n-” this time a female stick figure joins the scene, a cartoonishly round stomach off to one side, “-have only one goal. To knock Y/n up before he goes to battle, so that even if he never returns they ha-”

“Wait, wait!” Jimin cocks his head to the side, brows furrowed. “Isn’t this too dark? Too elaborate? They’re fucking, not going for best screenplay at the Oscars.”

Taehyung deflates a second time, the hand holding the pen dropping limply to his side. “You don’t like it?”

Face stricken, Jimin waves his hands frantically. “No, no, I love it! Honestly! I just- I feel like Namjoon probably wants something a little simpler? Perhaps not so bleak?” The blue-haired man swivels around on Namjoon’s lap, his hand resting inconspicuously on the back of his neck, playing with the longer hairs there.

Namjoon swallows. “Uh, yeah, simple is probably good. Honestly, I feel a little unsure about all of this. What if I, I don’t know, drop character or get shy? Won’t it be awkward?”

Taehyung scratches at his chin as he thinks, the beginnings of beard scruff shadowing his jaw. “If we help you brainstorm, you can just memorise a basic script.”

“I guess so,” Namjoon muses, eyes fluttering unconsciously as Jimin continues to trace the nape of his neck with his fingertips. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I know you have your own scenes to worry about.”

Jungkook shrugs. “Two birds with one stone, we can help each other. You know; I suck your dick, you suck mine.”

“That isn’t the quote,” Namjoon protests automatically, “but- I get your point. Anyone have any advice on how I even go about this?”

Taehyung pouts. “You’re the smart one,” he points out, “I did try to help but clearly my services weren’t appreciated.”

“Oh, honey,” Jimin coos, “I always appreciate your services.” The double entendre is clear in the silk of his voice and the arch of his brows, sent with a sweet smile, and Taehyung flushes in response.

Jungkook winces, ignoring the spike of - of something green and ugly in his chest. “Okay, enough from the lovebirds, this is about Namjoon. Joonie-hyung, I would just offer to help out and join with yours but I was gonna do mine this afternoon, and I don’t think a husband would fit very well into it.”

“That’s okay,” Namjoon assures, shifting under the weight of the man in his lap. His fingers flex on the arm of the chair behind Jimin’s back, unsure. “Taehyung? Yours might work, I guess.”

Unaware of Namjoon’s indecision, Jimin suddenly stands up off his lap entirely, stalking over to Taehyung with a bemused grin. “You think our well-trained Taehyungie could be the family dog?”

Taehyung, though keening under Jimin’s sudden attention, seems hesitant. “I- I don’t know, Minnie, I haven’t really…” He trails off helplessly, casting Namjoon an apologetic stare.

“It’s okay,” Namjoon rushes out, scooting forward to the edge of the armchair. “You don’t have to, I could just do it by myself.”

It’s strange, watching Jimin so visibly caught in indecision. He hovers in the centre of the small shed, torso towards Taehyung but head twisted back to stare at Namjoon. Wanting to support Namjoon, but wanting to protect Taehyung.

Jungkook feels like an outsider invading in on a precious equilibrium. Namjoon shifts, gaze dropping. Taehyung can’t keep his fingers still as they fiddle with the buttons of his shirt. Jimin’s so still the thin silver threads of his earrings don’t even shift in the air, but his eyes flood with emotion, bottom lip twitching just slightly as he seeks for something to say.

Jimin isn’t as mean as he’d like people to think, Jungkook muses. Saving the uncomfortable decision, Jungkook clears his throat awkwardly, diverting the attention of the other three. “We could always practice? Jimin, you’re pretty. Pretend to be Y/n and give Joon-hyung some tips.”

The effect of his words are instantaneous. Jimin perks up, turning on his heel to grin down at his elder, who gasps almost imperceptibly. Taehyung’s eyes dull with something akin to disappointment. At himself or at the situation, Jungkook can’t say, but the sight of him turning to the whiteboard and swirling sullen circles of ink on the glossy surface has Jungkook’s heart breaking.

Leaving the other two to talk - Jimin resting gracefully on one of the arms of the chair, his feet dangling between Namjoon’s - Jungkook hurries forward, wrapping his fingers around Tae’s to catch his attention.

“What’s up?” he asks softly, low enough to give the two some privacy.

Sucking on the inside of his cheek, Taehyung shrugs. “Nothing.”

Jungkook isn’t deterred by the shortness of his tone, but changes tacts nonetheless. “It’s a bit weird,” he offers up, “it’s like each of us is the wingman to the other guys, but we’re all going for the same girl.”

With Jungkook’s hand still on top, Taehyung begins to swipe the pen across the board again. This time, what looks like a flower with long, pointed petals takes shape in thick black lines. Taehyung himself stays focused for a few moments of silence, until he’s ready to speak.

“But it’s not just that,” he explains in a low timbre, “it’s not just her.”

Jungkook lets his hand be maneuvered by the deft movements of the masseuse. Every part of Taehyung was so elegant, like he’d been sculpted from marble. From those slender fingers, to the slope of his nose. Lashes that brushed against his brow bone as he focused, teeth pressing just slightly into his lip, a dusky pink. “No, it’s not,” Jungkook agrees after a moment.

Taehyung lets his hand fall, Jungkook’s slipping off. With eyes hidden behind dark curls, the elder sneaks a look at Jimin and Namjoon, the two smiling and laughing, Jimin’s fingers playing with the strap of the watch on the other’s wrist lazily.

“I never know who to be jealous of,” Taehyung admits with a weak chuckle, capping the pen. “Anyways; that doesn’t matter. We’re here to help Namjoon.”

Jungkook spares a glance at the lovebirds on the armchair. “I think he’s doing just fine.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung answers shortly, eyes locked on the way Jimin curls onto Namjoon’s shoulder, the two locked onto Namjoon’s phone as he types in notes. “He’ll do fine.” Letting out a deep sigh, Taehyung scrunches his eyes shut and shakes his head, like he’s clearing the funk away. “It doesn’t matter, we’re all in this together.”

Jungkook cocks his head. “But- Well, no, this is still a competition. Technically we should be against each other, not together.”

The air leaves Taehyung’s lungs in a rushed breath. “Fuck, you’re right. I should, like, hate you, right?”

Jungkook hums with a raised brow. “I guess.”

“I should be trying to cockblock you and tell Y/n you have syphilis, yet here I am wanting to suck the dicks of everyone in this room. But also maybe hold the hands of everyone in this room. You can imagine my confusion.”

Jungkook feels his stress slip away at the genuine smile that tugs at Taehyung’s lips. Even if his eyes are still muted with sorrow, he doesn’t seem so despairing over it. The youngest reaches out to grip onto Taehyung’s upper arm reassuringly. “We could have hate sex if it’d make you feel better?” he offers up in a soft voice.

The blue depths in Taehyung’s gaze recede a little more as his smile brightens. “I’d like that.”

The two manage to hold this Hallmark moment for a little longer before Taehyung’s shoulders begin to shake with suppressed laughter. In seconds, the two are dissolving into chuckles and snickers, Jungkook throwing his head back and Taehyung hunching over with the force of it.

Across from them, Namjoon and Jimin pause their excited conversation to stare at them in bewilderment.

“What did we miss?” Namjoon asks, brow knitted but eyes wide.

“Never mind,” Jungkook deflects, heart feeling strangely warm as Taehyung grins under his lashes at him, like the two of them have an inside joke. “We should probably pack up, though, unless we want Producer Shin coming back in the middle of our top secret team meeting.”

Jimin clicks his tongue in agreement and stands up off Namjoon’s lap. Lithe like a cat, his arms come up over his head and his back arches into a stretch, eyes fluttering shut. Jungkook knows his eyes aren’t the only pair watching the way his shirt lifts to display a band of pale golden skin.

“Alright,” the porn star lets out with a relaxed sigh, arms dropping and shirt falling again, “let’s head out, then. Joonie’s sorted.”

Namjoon stands up behind him, nodding shyly. “Thank you, guys. I feel a lot better about it now.”

Jungkook and Taehyung share a look. “To be fair,” Jungkook says with a light cough, “I don’t think Tae and I really helped at all.”

Jimin sends the two of them a broad smile, eyes crinkling in good humour. “You did provide the whiteboard,” he points out. “Though I imagine your efforts to steal it without Sejin realising were in vain.”

Taehyung frowns, hand automatically lifting to rub at his jaw. “What do you mean?”

“There aren’t any cameras in here,” Jungkook offers to Jimin, “he wouldn’t have seen it!”

Jimin blinks. “Where do you think Sejin went after helping Tae out of the staircase?”

Jungkook feels the odd pressure of dawning realisation that hasn’t quite materialised. “His office,” he answers slowly, “why?”

Behind Jimin, Namjoon ducks out with a sympathetic smile. “He probably noticed the giant whiteboard missing, Jungkookie.”

The camboy opens his mouth, waits for words to come, and closes it again. “Mm,” he replies eloquently.

“Oh, we’re gonna get in big trouble, huh?” Taehyung mumbles, fiddling with the pen in his hands.

“Wait,” Namjoon offers, “I’ll tell him it was me.”

Jungkook frowns. “How does that help?”

“Sejin won’t get mad at me, he loves me. I’ll just tell him I was getting a head start on my work for next semester.”

“When did he tell you he loved you?” Jungkook asks with a pout. “He never says it back to me.”

“I didn’t- What?” Namjoon frowns. “I was just chatting to him for advice one night and he told me I remind him of his son.”

“He doesn’t have any kids,” Jimin says with a lilt of confusion.

“I think he was talking about his cat,” Namjoon admits with a pained look, “but he loves his cat, so he must love me. Anyways, I’ll tell him I was using it for study and I don’t think he’ll mind. Just clear off the board and one of you can help me wheel it back.”

Jungkook sighs a breath of relief, turning back to the board. Beside it, Taehyung is frozen with his head bent and his mouth dropped open, staring at the pen. Neither Jin nor him thought to bring a duster, so Jungkook balls up his sleeve in his palm and wipes off the-

And wipes off the-

“Why isn’t it coming off?” Jungkook asks frantically, scrubbing over the shiny lines of black. “It’s not even smudging!”

“Um, Jungkookie,” Taehyung utters lowly, curls shifting as he slowly looks up. “This is a permanent marker.”

Jungkook’s hand freezes. He steps back, eyes wide as they stare at the image drawn in thick black.

The blooming form of what looked like a lily on the bottom corner, that was fine, but the giant all-caps Y/N PREGNANT followed by a very evocative drawing of a heavily pregnant woman beside a patriotic Namjoon was going to be harder to explain.

Slowly, Jungkook swivels on his heel, coming face-to-face with Namjoon, whose eyes are almost open wider than his mouth. “Hey, hyung,” the youngest offers up with a tentative smile, “how much d’you reckon Sejin loves that cat?”

It’s late afternoon by the time Jungkook has done his penance with the whiteboard and Sejin himself, but luckily it means that Yoongi is definitely in his room when Jungkook goes knocking.

More content with his own company, the second oldest tended to retire to his bedroom early to “entertain” himself. Jungkook had assumed this was a euphemism for masturbating, but Taehyung had informed him that the doctor was making his way through an impressive collection of the Slam Dunk manga these days.

As expected, Yoongi opens the door to Jungkook on his third knock, ushering him in with a look of confusion.

“Hyung,” Jungkook begins in an entreating tone, “you have a first aid kid in your room, don’t you?”

Yoongi’s eyes widen, back straightening in alarm. “Is someone hurt?”

“No, no, it’s sex reasons,” Jungkook explains quickly, eyes wandering around the room, eying up the open closet in the back of his room. “Do you have a white coat?”

“I- what? No, I don’t have a white coat,” Yoongi stutters out, face scrunched up in confusion. “What is this about?”

Jungkook hums, brushing back hair out of his face absentmindedly as he delves deeper into Yoongi’s room, checking in the drawers of the small nightstand. “I can make do without the white coat,” Jungkook murmurs to himself, before turning on his heel to face the older man again. “Do you have stirrups?”

“Stirrups?” Yoongi asks incredulously. His arms are folded over his chest tightly, though the brown loose-knit sweater loses the intimidation factor. “Why would I bring stirrups? They’re attached to the chair anyway, I can’t just pack them away in my suitcase.”

Dammit. Jungkook collapses onto Yoongi’s bed back-first, staring blankly up at the ceiling. “You need to help me, hyung. I’m determined to win fan favourite this week, so I need to go all out.”

A sigh of realization comes from the other side of the room. “Your prompt,” Yoongi remarks flatly. “What is it; nurse and patient?”

Jungkook’s mouth drops open as he sits up. “Doctor and patient,” he declares proudly. “I asked if Sejin could promote me to neurosurgeon but he said it wasn’t relevant.” The thought dampens Jungkook’s spirits a bit. Even just regular surgeon would have been nice. “But anyway,” he continues, “whatever props you have would be greatly appreciated. I already googled a list of medical terms, so I’m feeling pretty good.”

Yoongi sighs again, but he shuffles over to his closet and pulls out a sizeable, bright green first aid kit, laying it on the bed. Jungkook gasps in excitement and makes room for him, but Yoongi just tuts. “First of all,” he explains while unzipping it, “these aren’t props, they’re medical-grade supplies. And you can’t have them all. I don’t trust you with most of the things in here.”

Jungkook frowns, but shrugs off the disappointment. Something is still better than nothing. “Okay, hyung,” he allows in a small voice, “thank you.”

Yoongi fails to hide the quirk of a fond smile as he takes out some of the stuff in the kit. “You owe me,” he says instead.

You have to give it to Jungkook; the dedication to his craft is impressive.

After he sent you a vague and rather concerning message about needing to see you in the gym for ‘health reasons’, you were greeted by a hand-written DO NOT DISTURB (unless you’re y/n) sign taped to the door.

Inside, the indoor gym had been transformed. Most of the larger equipment had been shifted to one side, leaving the other half open. In the middle of the open area is a weightlifting bench covered in a white sheet which you’re certain was off his bed. A comically out-of-place office chair is beside a table which Jungkook is using like a desk. The desk is pushed up against the mirror which fills one whole wall of the gym, and you can’t help but laugh at the infographics and charts he’s printed out on A4 sheets of paper and taped to the mirror.

There’s a fuzzy x-ray of some ribs taped next to a heart rate line, frozen mid-pulse like he took a screenshot off a video, which is next to a chart filled with increasingly smaller letters, like one you’d see in an optometrist’s office. Though everything is mismatched, the effort he’s put it really warms your heart.

The desk is where you find Jungkook. He sits with his back to you, typing away obnoxiously loudly at a laptop on the desk. On the screen, gibberish keysmashes fill up an otherwise empty Word document. Rather than a lab coat, Jungkook looks more sharply dressed than you’ve ever seen him in a ironed button-up shirt, pale blue. The back of the fabric is taut against his skin, clearly borrowed from a slightly smaller, or at least less jacked man. But it provides a streamlined view of the muscles in his back and shoulders, tucked into belted black pants to highlight the surprisingly narrow waist.

Kitschy or not, you’re grateful that Jungkook got some kind of cheesy medical roleplay if it meant you finally got to see him in fitted clothing.

Even though he must have heard you open the door and lock it behind you, he remains tapping away at the keys. His head tips slightly to the side, expectant.

“Jungkook,” you call out, disappointed and a little confused when he doesn’t respond. But you quickly realise your mistake. “Oh, uh. Doctor Jeon?”

Like clockwork, he spins around magnanimously on the chair, hands splayed out in a welcoming gesture. “Ah, my favourite patient. Do come in.”

So we already know each other then, you surmise. Remembering all these details was an unexpected, though not entirely unwelcome part of this week’s theme. Developing a backstory, information on the scene, almost felt like constructing a scaffold to continue. There was something equally reassuring and exciting about it. A bolt of arousal shooting between your legs, you step in to the middle of the open area, sitting awkwardly on the covered bench.

“Take a seat,” Jungkook adds redundantly, like he’s following a script. “Let me just bring your file up. Name?”

You pause as he wheels back around to the laptop, pulling up what looks like an Excel spreadsheet. “I thought I was your favourite patient,” you quip with a smirk, but unable to suppress your fondness at how much thought he’s clearly put into it.

Jungkook’s shoulders drop, but he doesn’t falter. “Of course, I’m just going through the motions. I’ve been in the field for so long, you know.” He shrugs demurely. “I was actually a neurosurgeon before this.”

A disbelieving laugh bubbles out of your throat before you can catch it. “You went from neurosurgeon to doctor? Isn’t that backwards?”

Jungkook’s eyes waver, biting his lip. “I prefer the simple life,” he offers as an explanation. He shakes himself out of it, and turns back to the computer once more with a warm sigh. “Alrighty then, I’ve got your file here. It’s been a while since your last visit,” he remarks, cursor hovering over a watermarked image of a clock. “I better check your vitals again.”

You watch in bemusement as he readies himself, first sanitising his hands using a small travel-size bottle that’s in the shape of a cartoon shark, then pulls on a pair of latex gloves that had been lying on his desk. Even in the strangely comedic atmosphere, the sound of him snapping the glove against his wrist makes you gasp soundlessly, thighs pressing together in need.

Jungkook notices it, eyes darting down as he rolls his chair over. He unbuttons each cuff off his shirt and rolls them up to expose his forearms. His hair is getting thicker as it grows, and even though it’s pushed back, a few locks slip forward to frame the smirk on his face.

You swallow, neck craning as he gets closer. The bench you’re sat on clearly isn’t intended as an examination table because it’s just as low to the ground as the chair, and there’s something inside you that runs electric when he comes close, looking down at you from it. With spread knees, he places them on either side of yours and pins you there, making you gasp.

The feeling of the cold gloves on your cheekbones, pressing to keep you steady is dizzying, more so when he looks intensely into your eyes, searching with a cool professionalism that you’d never seen from him before. Though it’s new, you recognise the shift in the tension of the room signifying the true start of the scene.

In your peripheral vision, you spot his tongue darting out to wet his lips, but you’re locked onto his gaze. Jungkook smiles softly. “Eyes are healthy,” he remarks, “good to know you’ll be able to see everything properly.”

The gloves catch on your skin, one sliding down to tighten on your chin, tipping your neck back even more. You’re barely breathing, waiting for his move.

“Open up and say ahh,” he instructs huskily, and you’re responding without thought, letting your lips part and your tongue relax. Jungkook frowns. “Wider.” You feel the corners of your mouth pang as you lower your jaw as much as you can in his grasp. “Keep it like that,” he demands sternly, and your heart thuds.

To your surprise, he doesn’t just look inside. You jerk instinctively in his grip as two gloved fingers slide down your tongue, but his rebuking glare has you settling again, trying to breathe through your nose as he delves deeper, smirking at the way you squirm, legs trapped between his and eyes lidded as you feel the length of his fingers heavy on your tongue.

Quicker than you can put your head around, his fingers plunge deeper, far enough down your throat to make you gag, tears springing to his eyes. His fingers leave as you let out a little cough, blinking wetly at him in betrayal.

Jungkook smirks, not bothering to wipe the shine of your saliva off his glove. “Gag reflex intact and responding well,” he notes smugly.

“How is that a vital?” you question, voice slightly hoarse.

“It’s vital for what I’m about to do to you,” he quips with a lecherous grin, and you bite down hard on your tongue to fight the urge to tremble.

“And what is that, Doctor?” you ask instead, blinking owlishly up at him.

His lip quirks. “Don’t play coy, now, Y/n, I’ve seen the way you look at me during our appointments. Tell me; why is it that you came here today?”

You swallow, eyes heavy on him. “I’ve been suffering a strange sensation, Doctor,” you make out, your voice quieter than you intended. “Can you make me feel better?”

Jungkook exhales harshly, hands dropping to rest on your knees. “And where does it hurt, hm? Here?”

You suck in a breath as his legs spread further, coming close enough that your knees press against his crotch, the hardness undeniable. A single hand shifts up to lay against your forehead, questioning, and you shake your head. His hand skims lower, pressing firmly against your sternum where you feel your heart race against it.

“Here?” he questions, and continues on when he receives a negative. Next he veers off to the side, cupping a breast and brushing a thumb over your nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt. “Does it ache here?”

You whimper, arching into his hand. “A little bit,” you offer up weakly, glad you opted out of wearing a bra in anticipation of the scene.

The answer seems to amuse Jungkook, and you shiver when you feel his other hand playing with the hem of your shirt, the gloves tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach. “I better check it out then, hm?”

You feel so exposed, the air conditioner chilling the air and the mirror reflecting Jungkook’s back as he leans in close, breath tickling your bare shoulder as his hands cup your breasts.

Without further preamble, he begins to roll your nipples simultaneously between his fingers, enough pressure to make you shiver as he studies your reactions closely. The feeling of being touched so intimately with the barrier of latex gloves feels both taboo and exciting, and without even realising you find your hands clenched in the fabric of his shirt, gripping at his biceps as they flex with every movement.

“Does it hurt when I do this?” Jungkook asks lowly, humming in response when you shake your head. “What about this?” Suddenly, he’s tugging, pinching them harshly enough to make your back arch to ease the pressure.

You squeal, fingers digging in deeper to the corded muscle of his forearms. “Yeah,” you gasp out shakily, “h-hurts.”

Jungkook doesn’t stop. “But you like it, don’t you?” he accuses as he continues his rough treatment. “Coming into my office, begging me to touch you like this. Fucking filthy.”

A moan slips out as you rock your hips against the bench, seeking friction for the heat between your legs. “Please, Ju- Doctor Jeon, it hurts,” you cry out, gaze imploring as you blink up at him.

All of a sudden, he pulls back entirely, hands falling back onto his own knees as he watches you. “Show me,” he instructs, eyes hazy.

You shiver, the cool air shifting over your naked torso as his stare burns molten hot. “Show you what?”

Carding a hand through his hair to push it back, Jungkook wets his lips. “Show me where it aches the most,” he explains, voice like crushed velvet.

This was a side of him you’d never seen before; neither the competitive dom nor the obedient sub. His sexual versatility never fails to surprise you, and you find yourself hopelessly lost in the calm dominant air he exudes. Shakily, you part your legs.

He scoffs lightly. “That isn’t much help if I can’t see it. Undress.”

A rushed exhale leaves you at his shortness, but you stand up and push off your leggings and panties, kicking them to the side. It’s far harder to bare yourself to him this time, and as you sit, you can’t help but hesitate.

Jungkook raises a brow at your pause, leaning back like he’s disappointed. “I’m a very busy man, Y/n,” he chastises, “these appointment slots aren’t long and if you don’t want the next patient coming in while you’re choking on my cock, I suggest you do as I say, when I say it.”

Your legs fly apart the moment his voice lowers into a growl, clenching automatically at the open air at your most vulnerable place. “Please help me, Doctor,” you plead lowly.

Jungkook curses under his breath and comes forward again, placing a single gloved hand over your core. You jerk instinctively but keep your legs open at his warning glare. Even through the gloves, he has to feel how wet you are, slicking up the latex without him moving it. “It hurts here, hm? Lie down on your back and I’ll take a look.”

Your breath picks up as you turn and lower yourself onto the white sheet, legs dangling over the end. To your surprise, Jungkook doesn’t come around but returns to the desk, rolling his chair away and rifling through what looks like a first aid kit. You crane your head to watch him, narrowing your eyes in confusion as he returns with what looks like two rolled up lengths of gauze bandage.

“This isn’t the usual gyno office,” he explains, unravelling one slowly, “so we don’t have stirrups. But don’t worry; I’ll make sure to keep you nice and open for me.”

Like he’s done this a million times before - though the rational part of your brain knows he’s probably making this up as he goes along - he begins using the bandage material to bind your ankles to the legs of the bench, wide enough that you have to shuffle right to the edge, spread wide. He doesn’t say a thing when he ties them, mumbling to himself like he’s recalling instructions, and slips in his fingers to test how tight they are.

He’s kneeled between your open legs now, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch as he runs his fingertips over your sopping folds, eyes lidded with arousal. “Does it hurt here, Y/n?”

You shake your head, fighting the urge to scoot even closer. “Inside,” you explain, sighing in relief when two fingers plunge inside your walls, scissoring to stretch you out.

Jungkook has one hand on your thigh to hold you steady as he rocks his fingers back and forth like he’s seeking something, and the feeling of the latex, so slick with your juices, has you trembling immediately. “It’s important in this line of work,” Jungkook breathes out as his fingers widen even more inside you, “to be thorough, so just relax for me, let me in.”

The moment you try and unclench, his fingers curl and press up against your g-spot, and it’s like a line of electricity connecting all your nerves together lights up. Your legs instinctively flex in an attempt to close around his hand, but the taut bonds keep them spread, and you sob at the reminder, arms giving out so that you end up flat on your back again.

Jungkook chuckles. “Looks like we found the problem,” he remarks cheerily. His fingers continue their assault, targeted now as you writhe beneath him, and the wet sounds of the latex as he increases to three digits echo obscenely in the large room. “That’s it.”

The joints of your fingers ache as you cling onto the edges of the table for dear life, unable to stop the rising wave of pleasure that threatens to crash. It’s so close you feel it in your teeth, eyes rolling back and babbling nonsense to try and get him to go faster, harder.

Faintly, you hear the sound of him humming in amusement, and your mind conjures the mental image of him, sleeves rolled up and gloves dripping with your arousal, hair falling in his eyes and teeth glinting as he grins and brings you to orgasm. It’s that thought that finally begins to tip you over the edge, and just before the wave crests, you feel his fingers slip out.

“Looks like it doesn’t hurt anymore,” he remarks cheekily.

“No, no, no, don’t stop,” you blabber mindlessly, but it’s too late, and your orgasm washes through you as he sits back and watches the unsatisfying roll of pleasure take your body.

Irrationally, you feel tears prick at your eyes with the cruelness of his actions. “It sti- It still hurts, Doctor,” you sob, reaching a hand down to cup yourself, wanting more even as you hiss with the sensitivity.

Jungkook tuts in fake sympathy. “My fingers can’t reach any further, Y/n, if I couldn’t reach where it hurts, I don’t know how I can help you.”

Your bottom lip trembles as you blink your eyes open again, struggling to focus on him. “Use your cock, Doctor, please, I’ll do anything.”

“Is that so?” You could just about cry in relief when you hear a belt buckle jingling, and Jungkook kneeling over you, lining himself up. You can feel the tip pressed against your entrance, just enough pressure to tease you. “Too impatient for me to even put a condom on, naughty girl.”

“Fuck, I don’t care, just fuck me, Doctor,” you whine, your sentence punctuated by a strangled cry as Jungkook snaps his hips forward, bottoming out in a single thrust.

Somehow you’d forgotten just how long Jungkook was - while he wasn’t the thickest or overall largest, and even the thought of mentally cataloguing the guys’ dicks was strange - there was a graceful rising curve to his length that felt like it pierced right through you, and as he starts a punishing rhythm, you feel the air punched right out of your lungs.

“Is this what you wanted?” Jungkook growls. “Acting innocent when you just wanted my cock to fuck you stupid, hm?”

With every thrust, your body is rocked back and forth on the bench, and you feel the bandages that bind your ankles to the legs of the table loosen, a little bit at first and then enough that they slip off completely. It feels odd to no longer be tied down, and Jungkook notices how your body is suddenly shifting far more than it was before.

His pace slows down and you feel a gloved hand wrap around one of your ankles. “Do you want them back on? I don’t think I tied them so well,” Jungkook notes hesitantly, and if you weren’t wildly chasing your orgasm, you might have cooed at his character dropping away to reveal the Jungkook you’re more used to.

As it is, your mind can only care about one thing. “I don’ need them, just fuck me!” you plead, and Jungkook exhales sharply, lifting your ankle until it rests on his shoulder, holding down your hips to fuck into you once more.

With the new angle, you can just about feel him in your guts, and your mouth drops open soundlessly, the only noises escaping your lips are gasped breaths as you feel a deeper orgasm begin to build.

“Oh fuck, I’m close,” you manage to slur out, a raw scream bouncing off the walls as he lowers a hand to rub at your clit, the slippery glove only making him thumb it faster. “Fuck, don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking-ah!”

Your sentence is cut off violently as an orgasm rips through you as suddenly and overwhelmingly as an electric shock. If you’re making any noise, you can’t hear it, your mind like white static as you sit there and let it take you. Every inch of you is singing, down to your toes, and as Jungkook continues to fuck you into oversensitivity, you feel another release, one that makes you shudder and Jungkook swear violently, spilling inside you as he grips at the flesh of your hip.

It takes a while for the blur in your mind to clear, vision swirling in hazy technicolour and whole body trembling. Jungkook must have taken the gloves off at some point, because you feel the softness of his hands as they seek out yours, gently squeezing to rouse you more.

“Y/n,” you hear him say, voice still distant. The fog dissipates more with the calling of your name, and you feel yourself tune in again, once more becoming aware of the cool breeze of the aircon on your heated skin. Jungkook leans over you, eyes bright with enthusiasm. “Y/n. Have you ever done that before?”

You knit your brows in confusion. “Huh?”

Jungkook lets out a light chuckle, sitting back. He’s still inside you, barely softening, and you groan at the sensitivity of him shifting. “Look,” he guides, and you glance down to see your stomach and thighs, shiny with wetness, too thin to be cum. The liquid soaks his shirt, too, leaving dark patches. “That was fucking hot,” Jungkook gushes, his doctor persona well and truly evaporated by now.

You laugh weakly, an exhausted smile stretching at your lips. “I don’t think so? Fuck, that was a lot.”

“You were amazing,” Jungkook praises, squeezing your hands one last time before letting them go. He begins to pull out, then, and you shudder at the emptiness, remnants of his cum dripping out of you as he lowers your leg to the ground again. You sit up carefully, still lightheaded, and watch as he quickly rushes over to the desk, returning with a gauze pad damp with water from a bottle.

He uses it to clean you up in comfortable silence, though you can’t help but bite your lip when you notice he’s still hard. Just as he finishes wiping away the last of the wetness from your thighs and begins to wipe himself off, you reach out a hand to halt him.

“Doctor,” you coo teasingly, “won’t you let me clean you up? I wanna repay you for making the ache go away.”

His chest heaves as he shudders out a breath. “Really?”

You blink up at him as he stands in front of you, his cock right in front of you, glossy with your combined cum. “Don’t you wanna test my vitals one more time, doctor? Just to make sure?”

He gulps as you lean closer and lick a single stripe up the underside of his cock. It’s only slightly bitter, and well worth it for the look on his face and the feeling of his hands carding through your hair.

“I’ve got some filing to do,” Jungkook offers up, chest puffing as he slips back into his role, “if you’re going to clean me up like a good little girl, you can do it while I get back to work. I’m a busy man.”

You bite your lip as he cups the back of your neck and urges you to stand, leading you towards the desk. It’s just tall enough that you can sit on your knees below it, mouthing at his cock as he sits back in the office chair.

Giving a guy head isn’t your favourite hobby, but there’s something weirdly erotic about licking your own cum off of him as he types away, all but ignoring you. As you clean him up dutifully, you realise it’s a challenge, of sorts, to suck him off so well that he breaks concentration.

His jaunty clicks of the mouse and punching of keys continues away as he sighs lowly, feeling your lips wrap around his tip. You tongue the slit, keeping yourself steady by gripping the meat of his inner thighs and let your eyes slip shut so that you can fully focus on the minute sounds he lets out.

As you take him deeper and deeper into your mouth, testing your limits, you begin to learn the rhythm of his typing, recognising what makes it falter. His tip is sensitive, particularly where it meets the shaft, but it’s when you lap at the skin below his base and suck his balls into your mouth, tonguing at them languidly, that makes him break concentration fully.

“Hngh, fuck,” you hear him make out in a strangled voice, a hand coming down to stroke at his own length.

You bat it away immediately. “I thought you needed to work, Doctor,” you tease, “just let me take care of it.”

Jungkook groans but doesn’t protest when you wrap a hand around him and jerk him off, fingers tight around him as you suck at his perineum, making him moan prettily, the tapping of keys sparse and uncoordinated.

“Fuck, gonna- gonna cum again,” he warns, thighs tensing with the urge to thrust up into your grip.

You switch positions to suck his length into your mouth, rolling his balls in your hand and bobbing your head. Jungkook’s falling apart so beautifully, gasping out little ah, ah, ahs with every breath.

The moment you feel him stiffen up even more, you suck in a breath through your nose and swallow him down to the back of your throat, tearing up as your gag reflex kicks in.

He cums with a cry, shooting ropes of cum down your throat, and you wring out every last drop until he’s hissing and pulling away.

Jungkook helps you up from under the table with shaky hands and tucks himself away, panting. “Holy shit,” he says with a exhausted laugh, “I should have gone to medical school.”

The two of you spend the late afternoon showering and then returning the gym to its former glory. It’s not until even dinner has passed before you recall the rule of the Bangasm Bomb - a different bed every night.

You’d slept in Jungkook’s bed on the Monday night, and so you’d have to seek shelter elsewhere.

After getting into pajamas, you step out into the second-floor hallway, glancing around to see if anyone’s door is open. Jin’s is open - he’s still downstairs having a beer with Yoongi - but you’ve used his bed before. The only other one that’s ajar is the bunkroom.

Inside, Namjoon has his nose inside a book by a Japanese author you’ve vaguely heard of, and Hoseok folds a pile of laundry on his bed.

“Room for one?” you call out hopefully. The two of them have each chosen a separate bunk so they can see each other, but while Namjoon has a bottom bunk, Hoseok’s hair just about brushes the ceiling on the third and highest bed. The two of them glance up in unison, matching grins as they wave you inside.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Hoseok chimes out cheerfully.

“I was wondering if I could stay in a bed here tonight. I can’t room with Jungkook again.”

Hoseok’s eyes warm in recollection of the scene the three of you shared on Monday. “Well, we’ve got plenty of space. Pick a bed; any bed.”

It makes the most sense to choose the third stack of beds, on the far wall from the door. With only two beds instead of three, it’s easy enough to choose the top one, a perfect halfway point between Namjoon and Hoseok. “It’s not so bad in here,” you remark, tugging up the sheets so you can slip under.

“As far as punishments go, it does seem pretty tame,” Namjoon notes, adjusting a pair of thick reading glasses that balance precariously on his nose. “Though I do feel like it’s the equivalent of a naughty corner. Even if it’s comfortable, it’s the social factor that makes it undesirable.”

“It’s basically a sleepover for losers,” Hoseok surmises.

Namjoon pauses and nods. “Well said.”

You chuckle. “You two seem to be getting along well. Doing a lot of bonding in here, are we?”

“Not a whole lot else to do,” Hoseok points out. “We’ve been chatting away the boredom. Did you know Namjoon thought he could speak to crabs when he was a kid?”

Namjoon lets out a wounded noise, carefully marking his page with a bookmark before tossing the novel to the side. “I never said that! I said I thought they were trying to speak to me, okay?” The academic pokes his head out to look up at you. “Hobi-hyung is scared of Big Bird from Sesame Street!”

Instead of defending himself, Hoseok nods with an indignant pout. “Yeah, I fuckin’ am.”

You let out a peal of laughter. “Wow, you’ve only been in here three nights and you’re already sharing childhood trauma? Jin’s gonna be devastated he missed it.”

“Jin had the chance to come join me and he chose not to,” Hoseok declares. “As far as I’m concerned, Namjoon is the only man in this house I respect.”

Namjoon beams, eyes crinkling behind thick frames. “Thanks, hyung. I respect you, too.”

Hoseok’s chest puffs up in pride. “You better after all the things I’ve taught you.”

Namjoon’s blush is telling. You lean forward in interest, glancing back and forth between the two. “Wait; what did you teach him?”

“Well, we’re not gonna tell you,” the dom responds petulantly, turning his nose up, “it’s a surprise for your scene together.”

You pout, leaning back onto the pillow on your bed. “That’s no fun.”

“Oh, it’ll be fun when you get to experience it firsthand, trust me.”

Namjoon lets out a sigh at Hoseok’s teasing, slipping his glasses off and placing them on the nightstand beside the bunks. “Don’t hype it up too much, hyung, I’m not that good yet.”

“You’ll get there, young grasshopper.”

You frown at the uncertain look on Namjoon’s face. “I can go ask one of the others to room with them if you wanna, uh, practice some more.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen. “No, it’s okay. This can be my rest day.”

Hoseok sighs sweetly, rubbing his eyes. “Actually, rest does sound pretty nice. We can pick it up tomorrow. Night, Joonie. Night, Y/n.”

You and Namjoon chime out a simultaneous reply as Hoseok climbs down the stairs to deposit his pile of folded laundry on the empty bed below, returns to the top bunk, and tucks himself in.

Namjoon seems equally relieved to be able to go to bed early, curling up with a pillow cuddled to his chest. “Sweet dreams,” his low timbre calls out.

You smile fondly at your two boys, snuggled up with peaceful faces as they drift away. “Sleep well,” you offer up, before getting comfortable and letting your own eyes slip closed.

#bts x reader #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #networkbangtan #ficswithluv #magicshopnet #goldenclosetnetwork #ksmutclub #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #btswritersnet #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #bangtanidx

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vivianrvergiou · 4 years

Text

Bad Luck~ Obey Me

After a particularly bad fight in the House of Lamentation, a series of unfortunate events unfold. Pairing: Mammon x Mc Warnings: slight bad language but other than that everything’s ok. Recommended song: 5SOS- Teeth This is my first time writing for the Obey Me fandom, especially for the Greedy Monmon, so I do hope you enjoy!

Normally, the House of Lamentation was always buzzing with voices and energy, as its restless demon residents and human one would go about their day, but today this was not the case. Today, everyone was gathered around the breakfast table, glaring daggers to one another but daring not to speak a single word. You and Beel were the only ones trying out the food, while the other ones were ready to slit each other throats.

‘No one will leave this table until the culprit confesses.’ Lucifer announced, resting his hands on the table with deceiving calmness, but all of you could see the vein of annoyance popping in his head.

‘Mammon just confess it is you and be done with it.’ Satan practically growled at the white-haired demon, who threw his hands up in surrender.

‘Oi, didn’ do it dude. How many times should I tell ya?’

Satan’s green eyes flash with rage and he clenched his fists in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. Right beside him, Levi is rocking himself back and forth, muttering under his breath about levels and assassins and music blasting at full volume. Asmodeus on the other hand, had folded his hands above his chest and refused to even acknowledge anyone around. Still, he pipes up.

‘I want the one who ruined my beautiful hair PAY!’ Asmo throws venomously ‘Do you know how hard it was to get my original colour back?!’

‘Who cares about your hair! That damn assassin keeps getting me on every level! I haven’t slept in two weeks!’

‘Try scratching yourself raw then Levi.’ Belphie muttered, throwing dagger glares to everyone on the table ‘With only exception (y/n) and Beel, any of you could’ve done it. Especially the scumbag, good-for-nothing, greedy bastard like Mammon.’

Lucifer nods ‘This is what we are here to find out. I can promise you that the one responsible will pay dearly. Torture, tied up and hung from the ceilin-’ He growls, and you almost choke with your cereal, cutting him off ‘Anything funny (y/n)?’

You shrug ‘Hard to take you seriously when your teeth are painted pitch black Lucifer. You should wash them every now and then.’

Your snarky remark earns you a murderous glare from the first-born, while Belphie, Satan and Mammon chuckle, with Mammon choking on his spit when Lucifer turns his gaze to him, red eyes dripping with a wild mixture of cruelty and raw anger eating away at the colour. Still, Lucifer is barely managing to contain his anger and not flog you all for your disobedience.

‘It has come to my attention (y/n) that you, Beel and Mammon are the only ones who haven’t fallen victims to this sort of… misfortunes. Care to explain why?’ his eyes never stray from your face, searching for the signs that would possibly betray you.

Alas, as you shrug your shoulders and munch down on a cupcake, your face remains innocently even ‘Maybe because we are next?’

‘No, noononono, don’t go sayin’ that (y/n). The Great Mammon is not up for this shit.’

‘While the rest of us where! So, spit it out already!’ Satan roars and hits the table with his fist, making everything on it bounce.

It had all started about a week ago, when you and Mammon decided to let the others know you were officially dating. Of course, both of you had been pinning after one another from the moment you stepped a single foot inside the house, but it was only a few months later that you had enough and confessed to the greedy demon who was elated, alas not the same could go for the rest of his brothers. A huge fight had broken out, the likes of which you had never seen; all the brothers -with only exception being Beel- were beyond themselves, with all sorts of insults being thrown at Mammon, who after a while simply stormed off to cool down (read cry) and you telling the rest of them off before following him.

Eventually, although reluctantly, the rest of the brothers cooled their heads down.

Alas, bad luck was about to rain down on them.

And first victim, was Levi only a day later.

Levi was kind of sore about the news, so the Otaku decided to just game his frustration and sadness away. The game he decided to give a go was an RPG game from the human world y/n had gifted him with the other day, called Assassin’s Creed, and no matter how much it hurt his heart to play it and his envious nature to rise within, it was still a good game he wanted to play.

One by one he scored the best scores on the levels and progressed, until he reached the tenth level, when a very strange assassin emerged through one of the narrow streets, wearing a bubble pink robe and before he even knew it, Levi’s character was shot dead.

‘What the absolute sh-‘

He loaded the game again and made his way through the streets but again the assassin appeared and shot him. Over and over and over again, at some point he lost track of how many times his avatar had been killed; shot, slashed, an arrow to the body, a kick to the head, a leap of faith on top of him, he was one step away from smashing his controller. He tried everything: going through a different street, avoiding the place, picking up another mission, playing the game from the start but every. single. time. the assassin would emerge and kill him. The Avatar of Envy was beyond himself with rage, until he decided to corner and kill it before it got him again.

‘Aha! Got you now!’ he screams victoriously as he points his arrow to him and shoots him clean through the head.

ICAMEINLIKEAWRECKINGBALL,INEVERHITSOHARDINLOVE,ALLIWANTEDWASTOBREAKYOURWALLSALLYOUEVERDIDWASWREAKME!!!!!YEAH,YOUWRECKME!!!!

It blazed through the speakers on full volume, making Levi fall out of his chair with a scream. It did not stop, it did not lower the volume, the whole computer turned unresponsive until he would wrench the cable off the wall, having a very angry Lucifer breathing down his neck along with the rest of the residents, since it was four in the morning. Every time he would load the game again, when he would find the assassin, the song would blare up all over again. He had triggered a virus but none of the commenters online could help him through it.

He was determined to win though, which left him screaming at the screen in frustration for the 400th time. As well as leaving him with no sleep for a good two weeks.

Yet Asmo, who was the second victim, would vehemently argue that he had it worse.

Nothing betrayed what was about to go down for him.

He had a good laugh with Levi’s punishment for blazing the song at such a wild hours in the morning -and good for Lucifer because none of them cave-demons knew how bad for the skin was to wake up at such ungodly hours- so to relax and pamper himself before going out the following night, he filled with bathtub will all sorts of bath salts and soaps. Making sure to apply his favourite skin and hair mask to chase away the tiredness.

‘~Hmmmm, hmmmm, all perfect!’ he mused to himself and relaxed back with a good glass of wine.

You were with Beel and Belphie in the kitchen preparing dinner when you heard it.

‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!’

A bloodcurdling scream rocked the house from its base and as you rushed to the hallway, all you saw was Asmo running around in circles with only a towel wrapped around his hips.

‘IT’S NOT COMING OFF! MY FACE! MY HAIR! IT WON’T COME OFF!!!’

His hair to your ultimate surprise had turned in all the colours of the rainbow, while the face mask he wore simply refused to come off, making the Avatar of Lust lose his shit. At some point, all you saw was the towel loosening but Belphie was quick to cover your eyes before you got flashed. Took them two hours and a very angry Satan to restrain Asmo and help him pull the mask off -thankfully with some alcohol it came straight out- but his hair was unsalvageable, which made Lucifer himself go to the shops in order to find hair dye.

Even with that though, the colour was as close to his original as it would get and no matter the fact he still rocked it, Asmo was very angry about the whole thing.

Yet none of them were suspicious, until bad luck hit Belphegor.

The Avatar of Sloth picked up his favourite cow pillow and made his way to the planetarium for some peace of mind and an opportunity to sleep peacefully and forget about everything. Cuddling to his pillow, he was asleep in no time but at some point, he felt a strange itch cover his body; nothing to worry about he could just scratch it.

Oh, dear Diavolo, no.

The more he scratched the more he would get itchy and the irritation of being pulled out of sleep was doubled when he woke up and every single inch of his body SCREAMED at him to scratch it, which he did until he started scratching himself raw. Beel found him completely turned onto his demon form, scratching away and cursing all the gods and demons he knew and didn’t know. Eventually, only a cold shower seemed to ease the itch and Beel made sure his covers were clean before going out to bring him some of his favourite orange juice; Belphie particularly liked it after a nap and there was a spare cup in the fridge.

Belphegor was thankful of his twin as he took it onto his hands and took a sip, but instead of the familiar fruity taste, the taste of ready-to-make macaroni and cheese flavour assaulted his mouth. Beel was very understanding when his twin spat it out all over him but Belphie was fuming.

Satan on the other hand, could agree that all these misfortunes were kind of strange, but nothing to worry about too much.

So after he laughed and enjoyed his brothers misfortunes over dinner, he returned to his room to read a new book y/n had gifted him and when he finally felt tired, he set his digital alarm on his nightstand -Asmo had bought it for him and he used it to wake up with some calm songs- and went to sleep. There was a thought twisting and turning in his mind as he slept, a gut feeling that something was amiss, but he couldn’t quite place it, instead slipping into unconsciousn-

WHOLETTHEDOGSOUT?!WOOFWOOFWOOFWOOFWOOF!WHOLETTHEDOGSOUT?!WOOFWOOFWOOF!WHOLETTHEDOGSOUT?!

To say Satan literally flew off his bed and turned into his demon form in a split second would be an understatement. The alarm blazed in full volume and would not stop for the world, until he Avatar of Wrath tossed it out of the window, sending it into orbit. Taking deep breaths to calm his nerves down, he made his way to his bathroom to get ready to slash that fucking a-hole who did this to his alarm.

He didn’t really notice his toilet seat being covered by a thin layer cellophane.

And he was barefoot.

Fucking hell.

Lucifer was not really worried at all.

Who in their right minds would prank the Avatar of Pride? No one was that masochistic and he prided himself in being terrifying on a good day, much less when you saw him angry. So, he privately enjoyed the little war raging around his brothers in silence, urging them not to do anything that would shame Diavolo in any way due to their rage. Of course, he was curious to see who was doing all this, but the culprit would rise eventually, nothing stays hidden for long.

That’s what he thought when he went about his chores on the seventh day. Placing his clothes to the washing machine and brewing a nice cup of human coffee Barbatos had given him, an exceedingly rare brew, he made his way to his office to start on the numerous papers he had today. Closing the door behind him, he sipped a bit from the liquid, finding it strangely salty; hm, maybe it was a new kind of coffee? It wasn’t unpleasant for his throat, just very very salty. Making a mental note to let Barbatos know it wasn’t too good, he pulled his chair out and leaned to sit down.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

Everything happened in a single moment.

As Lucifer’s butt sat on the chair, a piercing honking sound erupted through his entire study, making the demon jump up in surprise and his hands to shake, resulting into covering his clothes with his coffee- which was not coffee at all, but squid ink which had permanently made its way on his teeth, turning them pitch black.

‘MAMOOOOOOOON!’

To say he was beyond himself would be laughable. Thankfully, he had a spare change of clothes, which he would need because to the horror of the entire household, his clothes came out of the washing machine pure white with a few random black and pink spots on them. Someone had mixed bleach with the washing powder and none of them knew about it.

So now, Lucifer raises an eyebrow ‘Something tells me you know a lot more than you let on y/n. It is not hard to figure out all of the misfortunes started after our fight and you seem strangely calm.’

‘What do you want me to do? I helped Asmo with his hair and Belphie with the scratching. If you wanna, you can search my room. Search everything, turn it upside down, even go through my panties drawer.’ You challenge with a smirk.

Never missing the way Lucifer straightens back and his cheeks colour a faint pink, while the rest of the brothers riot in the proposition.

‘That would not do. But I do have my eyes on you.’

Pushing your chair back, you rise on your feet ‘Whatever you say Lucifer. Now, if we’re done here, we’ll be late for school. I’ll go grab my stuff.’

Leaving them to burn holes in your back before starting to argue with renewed vigour with one another, you exit the dinning room and make your way back to your room. Picking up your stuff and pulling your hair up in a ponytail, you are interrupted when your DDD goes off and you see Solomon’s name flashing over the screen.

‘Hey Sol. Good morning.’ You walk over to your panties drawer and pull a fresh pair of socks, ignoring the squid ink, itch powder, funky hair dye and the bleach, hidden in a small plastic bag under your panties ‘Yes, thank you for running this errant for me. I’ll tell you everything but for now let’s just say they got what they deserved for making fun of Mammoney.’ You flash an evil smile.

Solomon was very amused to hear the stories.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me x reader #mammon x mc #poor mammon #pranks #got it coming #obey me fandom #obey me fanfic

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liveshaunted-moved · 3 years

Text

headcanon dump; sally jackson

sally loves her children so fucking much

most of sally’s books get published in the font Dyslexie and in fact, she uses this font when she writes on her computer, therefore making it easier for percy or annabeth or any demigod easy to read when she get’s them to preview it

sad thought of the day…. sally and percy only being able to give affection when gabe wasn’t around because he hated it, so that meant when she would drop him off to school ( bc she sent him to boarding schools to protect him from gabe you will have to pry that headcanon from my cold dead hands ), and pick him up. or at her work if she could.

and then, them still not being able to adjust to it after gabe is gone and when paul does come along, they do kind of ‘hide’ it until they realise that paul isn’t gabe. because yes they know he isn’t but there are still micro things that they do have to re/unlearn

sally is proud supporter of percy & who ever makes him happy

sally and percy are so much a like. most of his traits, he shares with her, not poseidon, for sally was the one who raised him. his stubbornness and loyalty? from her. his need to protect those he cares about, even if it means he gets hurt? that’s so from sally.

because percy is so much more then posideon’s son, he is also sally’s son.

his love of blue food is from SALLY not POSEIDON, sally loved blue and it happens to be percy’s favourite colour too. blue is a sally&percy thing

sally had a miscarriage, and she is one of the very few where it was welcomed. not because she didn’t want another child, she had always imagined herself with more then one child, but the idea of having another child under gabe’s care frightened her and she couldn’t afford / get access to an abortion. this had happened while percy was in school ( a boarding one ) so he doesn’t know about it

it should be known that sally never sought for percy’s approval of paul, she already knew off the bat that paul was a good person. there was no reason for doubt for her, unlike with gabe when there was a little bit of doubt even before she saw gabe’s true colours. the only reason percy didn’t know right away was because she was still figuring it out, she hasn’t dated since she married gabe, it’s a hard thing to navigate.

sally will never have any ill feelings towards poseidon. she took everything in stride, so he wasn’t going to raise percy with her, she didn’t care because she would do her best to give her son the best that she can with what she had.

she never accepted any of poseidon’s offers, because she learnt that you have to earn things. and she was just a ‘summer’ fling for poseidon, that hadn’t earned a place in his home under the sea. and she wouldn’t have felt right accepting it knowing that poseidon had a wife.

she just needed to know if paul and percy would get along, and it was just a matter of when she was ready to let percy know.

when hades had captured her, she was right before her death. she was meant to die, but asked thanatos to bring the mother of percy back to him, alive. it was going to be a way to get his helmet back, as that was also stolen, and believed to have been stolen along side the master bolt. sally was kidnapped for leverage for the son of poseidon.

sally was alive, and for the most part was in mobile, but she of everything going around her. she heard the whispers of hades, of the ghost and how he was accusing her son of such a crime. of how hades has a plan, that if what he thinks is going to happen, that he’d get ahead of it.

her time in the underworld was at least a month, and for a mortal being in the underworld and not being dead can be harmful and it was to sally’s mental health. but, for years, she’s always put on a brave face for her son. and honestly, this why she flinched when gabe raised a hand towards her. usually she could hide her fear of her husband from her son, but the mental toll of having been in the underworld and being made inmobile did a lot.

when she was mobile, it was when hades favoured someone else that wasn’t working for him to talk too. sally would take this time to tell him that he is mistaken. her son would never, ever do such a thing.

sally would often, after finding gabe’s true nature, take percy to her work whenever she could. this is why she sent him to boarding schools too, so he has limited exposure to gabe and his nasty ways

ever since she got her scar on her hip, she when she swims where a fullbody swimsuit & a pair of shorts because she didn’t want to let percy know how badly gabe has hurt her. this scar had happened when percy was seven and in a boarding school, and it healed just before he came home in time for their usual trip.

sally is everyone’s mother? you want a mother figure, sally offers herself up. she’ll bake you cookies and muffins and homemade meals. give you a blanket to keep you warm.

sally also totally asks, and pays for, rachel to do artwork for her books.

sally supports all her children. all demigods are now her children, i will says this until i die

this is just in, your friendly reminder that, sally jackson is in fact, by definition a murder who is getting away with that fact. she placed medusa’s head in front of gabe. she was feed up with his abuse, and feared that he would go back on his promise and actually hit percy because of everything that’s happened. she feared for her son’s safety more then ever.

sally totally uses dyslexic friendly font on her computer, and for her writing. she also, once she gets published, fights for her books to only be printed in dyslexic friendly fonts.

sally has always been able to see through the mist. very clearly. at school. was once even mistaken to be a demigod, only for the satyr to realise that sally was in fact mortal. this has also lead to a very young sally to be labelled as someone with a very creative imagination.

and that label, got her interested in reading and writing, and her want to be a writer.

the wedding was small, nothing too big. just those close to her and paul.

this was her wedding dress, it just showed up the day of the wedding - she knows it was a gift from posideon

she totally invited annabeth, tyson & thalia

this just in, sally wore blue laced wedding dress. it had blue accents in it

sally, sung often to percy when he was a baby, and when he had nightmares.

sally would have never allowed gabe to stay as long as he did if he laid a hand on percy. herself, that was a different story. that was a set rule between the two, that gabe keep his hands off of percy, and sally would stay with him.

gabe was drunk, and sally can be very petty at times. this was how the whole blue thing came about. gabe was drunk and having a fight, while sally was making a cake, with blue food colouring because percy was coming home soon from his first time at school. and somehow they were on the topic of food not being able to be blue. so, it was from then on, sally decided she will go out of her way to make sure that she will get any food blue, and when it comes to cakes and the like of homemade things, blue food dye was right at the ready. and she loved it so much. because it became an inside thing with her son.

sally and poseidon lasted longer then just the summer., bu a few months after that and that is when percy was conceived. and poisdeon had to go because sally was in more danger now that they were going to have a child. sally understood, and let him go. holding no bitterness towards the sea god. she has made it this far in life without the help of others, she can do it again, even with a child.

she absolutely HATES the idea of someone not feeling safe, or having a place to call home. maybe it came from her having a child that could be in danger, or that is just the way she is. but, after gabe was gone, she would always be willing to lend a hand out to those in need ( mainly demigods ). most of the time just for a place to sleep and crash, and a place to feel SAFE and know that they can trust her.

despite her parents dying in a plane crash, sally never truly actually feared flying. she only ever ‘feared’ it when she had percy, for zeus might want to strike her son out of the sky and THAT is what scares her the most.

SALLY WOULD DIE FOR HER CHILDREN BEFORE SHE WILLINGLY PUTS THEM IN HARMS WAY. she knows the demigod life comes with a harsh reality which is part of why she didn’t want percy to go, why she held it off for so long having known about it since percy was like 3 years old.

sally sent percy away to boarding schools, to protect him. to get him as far away from gabe as possible. it was a way she could protect him, sending him away defeated the purpose of her marrying gabe - but, she hoped and prayed that the times that percy was home, that gabe’s sent lingered on her son for just long enough to keep him safe

gabe, for the first few months of his relationship with sally was nice, to her. her tried to woo her, despite him not smelling well. that was always with him, he never knew how to shower properly and sally counted that as a plus, because it would mask her son’s scent as a demigod. they got married quickly, and that seemed to be when gabe’s behaviour would change. she would refuse things, refuses to do things in the bedroom and he would get mad at her. he started to show his true colours as a awful human being, that is wasn’t just a bad smelling person, but the smell matched the personality. gabe was a verbal & emotional abuser.

she never divorced him. because he masked percy’s scent and because he was NEVER physically abusive towards PERCY, her on the other hand. that is a different story. gabe has hit her a few times and she did her best to hide it away from percy.

she stayed with gabe purely & solely to protect percy, because in her eyes, percy’s health & safety comes way before her own.

sally will fight for her son, she HAS fought for her son. there is nothing in the world that will ever stop sally from doing her best to protect percy, even if it means putting herself in danger. her son, always came before her. his needs came before her own. if they could only afford so much food, it would go to percy before it would go to her

honestly, the moment percy had called her, sally nearly collapsed from pure relief. her son was alive, THAT was the main thing, her son being alive. she knows his life can be dangerous, she knows it may not be long, but that doesn’t take away the fear and make it any less painful knowing that his life is in the hands of the fates.

#why be blah when there is aquamarine ( sally canons )#we're standing on the edge of queue #abuse tw #miscarriage tw #long post tw

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mochachims · 4 years

Text

BECAUSE PINK IS YOUR FAVOURITE COLOUR

pairing: park jimin x reader

au: bts quarantining au , university student jimin x student reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: none , just a whole load of fluff

if only the shortening of daylight hours actually meant that the day didn't feel so long. these days you spent the cold darkening early evenings hold up in your shared apartment. normally, winter wouldn't bother you so much, it was your second favourite season after the calm poise of autumn. yet spending days quarantining, not able to leave your home unless it'd be for your once a week lectures, was really starting to take a toll on you.

and that's how you end up here.

in the closest mini mart to your block of apartments, dressed in an oversize hoodie that wasn't even yours and leggings that were god knows how old with your glasses perched on the bridge of your nose, steaming every couple of seconds as you tried your hardest to breathe slowly. the tips of your fingers that could just about scrape the cloud of fluff that wrapped around your body grazed a couple of items, flinging them into your trolley as you leaned into it, your body weight pushing it along the isles and not even your arms. you let out a sigh staring at the piled packets of ramen, knowing that it had been long since you had eaten a home cooked meal. these days you could only count on your peach flavoured milk, cup noodles and 3am pizza delivery binges to get you through the hard courses of uni. to say you were stressed would be an understatement. it had been so long since you saw your other friends, yes you called and face timed and each of you spammed the group chat- each of you minus jungkook, the graphic designer by day and overwatch killer by night who never seemed to be online, or maybe he was and just didn't respond. it had been the longest while since you had been home and seen your parents and hugged them oh how much you craved physical affection. it wasn't just lack of physical attachments, god help your mental health as that one lesson lecture in uni had been utterly useless, after all you spend all your hours rewatching the videos, searching online, completing assignments and prepping for exams with yourself only. you might as well just not turn up to your friday lecture, i mean you were teaching yourself the entire course anyway. a slight tap of the shoulder popped your bubble of contemplation and brought you back to reality.

there in the middle of the frozen foods isle was your best friend; arms wrapped around you like a koala, tingling breath on your neck as he breathed into his infamous back hugs-the only thing getting you through the lockdown period. you pause for a moment and let the cloth of your hoodies- his hoodies- tangle themselves, basking in all his warmth and familiarity. truth be told, you don't know what you'd do without park jimin. the light of your life- no he was your life. there for you at four am where you screamed at your computer, or there for you at 4pm lifting your drunk and limp body to your bedroom, not before brushing the cheap grocery store wine out from your teeth. sometimes you genuinely think that park jimin was too good to be true, to good to be in your life and the only reason why he happened to be there at every moment in your life was the fact that he was your roommate. he had no choice to stand you because he lived with you and had been living with you for the past two years.

a whine escaped your pale, chapped from the cold lips and a chuckle from his berry ones as he shifted his weight from off your back and leaned on the trolley, taking the cart away from your hold and stacking his items in delicately.

"what have you picked minnie?" and even in the dripping dim white light of the mart, you could still see the small smile that played upon his strawberry lips.

"just some fresh vegetables and sauces, thinking maybe instead of takeaway we could find a recipe online or something?" the huskiness in his voice did not allow you to miss the fatigue that was laced in his words, that and the fact that it was one am and both your online lectures start at eight. he glanced at you, his warm copper eyes finding yours and he smiled.

"let's pay and head back home yeah?" the mask muffling a few of his words but you understood, you had always understood him. you both passed the next few isles, one hand of his pushing the cart and the other wrapped in yours, fingers and hearts intertwined. small talk wasn't needed and at this time, with the both of you drifting in and out of sleep, fighting with the bleaky lights to stay awake, this comfortable silence was enough for you.

"wait here a second babe," he called out to you, and you lazily looked up. a neatly arranged row of hair dye boxes lay in front of you, a range of shades of all colours yet your gaze fell short once it reached the central tones of pink. the same box that jimin had already had in his hands. your fingers called out to his now dark hair and caressed the strands slowly, you always had been in love with dark tones on jimin, the contrast between the black and the sweet honey of his kissable skin.

"pink?" you questioned, quietly trying to imagine the pastel painted on his head. jimin paused and stared at you, your attention busy on running your hands through his hair. he watched you silently, for his heart was loud enough to shatter the glass doors. he watched as even on the verge of falling asleep, the stars in your eyes sparkled. that even when you complained how dry the harsh winter was making your skin, it was still soft when he cupped your cheek with the palm of his hand. that even through your hardest moments and your excessive lip biting, he wanted to so badly kiss away the doubts that spilt from your lips and then plant a slow peck on your forehead, encouraging you that whatever was on your mind he wants to know- he wants to share. he wants you.

"why pink?" you asked, now turning your attention on to him and for several moments, his heart stopped and thumped and then slowed. irregular beats matching his incapability to gather his thoughts and form a single coherent sentence.

because it's your favourite colour, he wants to say. it's the colour of your favourite strawberry lipgloss, your stupid peach milk that takes up all the space in his fridge, your fluffy sweaters that feel like a cloud when he 'accidentally' falls asleep and cuddles into you, the colour of your blushing cheeks whenever you see something you love, whenever you see him and try and hide your flustered state that he loves to see. its the colour of your beating heart that he wants to hold and make his own.

because you are pink and he loves you.

the two of you make it home, running in the cold and out of breath. you dye his hair the same night and he loves the feeling of your soft fingers in his hair so much that he decides that he's going to dye his hair more often for moments like this. and when he washes it all away and catches you struggling to stay awake despite his desperate attempts to get you to sleep before another hard day.

you stop and stare at him in awe. the blush that hugs his soft waves, it's wet each strand is but you can still see its vibrancy that lights up your small living room. the rosiness shining a perfect shade against his milky skin. he notices that its been a good few moments since he had showed you and since then you havent stopped smiling, your eyes havent stopped twinkling. in fact your smile widens at your favourite colour on his hair and jimin knows that he wants you to always smile like this, smiling because of him just makes his heart jump to cloud nine and make a home there.

"how do i look?" he asks after what seems forever in a few unspoken moments.

“beautiful” you whisper, letting out the breath that you had been holding in. fingers aching to reach and just touch it, touch him.

and yes, you are beautiful.

#bts fluff #bts bangtan sonyeondan #bts one shot #bts fanfic #bts park jimin #park jimin #jimin au #jimin fluff

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sirrriusblack · 5 years

Text

March 10

“No.”

“Yes!”

“Not a chance.”

“Remus John Lupin get your obnoxious ass down here this instant!”

“Oh, ‘obnoxious ass,’ how classy,” Remus called from atop the stairs. He shook his head and made his way down to Lily, dressed in a stunning green silk dress. She wanted to go clubbing. She rolled her eyes.

“What are you wearing?” She pouted, and Remus couldn’t help but smile. He was wearing the furthest outfit from a club outfit possible. Trackies, mismatching socks, an old t-shirt and a sweater with more holes than fabric. Lily grabbed his sweater from the hem and pulled it off, despite Remus’ shouts of protest and his head getting stuck in the neck. In a moment it was on the floor and Lily was dragging him back upstairs. They reached Remus’ room and he stood in the doorway as Lily began a frenzy through his wardrobe. Every few moments she would pick something up and throw it toward Remus. He didn’t catch any of the items. Finally satisfied, Lily stood up and smiled at him. He shook his head.

“It’s my birthday, shouldn’t I have a say in what we do?” he asked, amused. Lily huffed.

“Morally, yes, but I don’t particularly care. You haven’t been out in weeks!” she half-shouted. Her red hair swayed with her as she moved. Remus ran a hand through his own tangled locks and sighed.

“Fine. But I am not wearing this.” He held up a bright green floral print shirt. He didn’t even know he had owned it. Lily snorted.

* * *

“See! Isn’t this fun?” Lily’s voice was loud in Remus’ ear and he flinched. They were standing by the bar, music with too much bass pumping around them. Remus rolled his eyes. They were searching for a bartender. What kind of club doesn’t have a bartender?

“So much fun, Lils,” Remus said sarcastically. Lily whacked Remus in the shoulder.

“Shut up and smile, dickhead,” she said, right as two people came out of the back room and into the bar. At the sight of the long haired one, Remus smoothed down his hair and shirt, earning him a knowing glance from Lily. He glared right back at her. The bartender, however, didn’t spare Remus a glance. He shook his head. He shouldn’t just assume people are gay anyway. The other bartender—positively straight, Remus decided—came over instead. He looked Lily up and down and smirked.

“James,” he said, introducing himself with a wink. “What can I get for you?” he drawled, staring into her eyes. Lily blushed and Remus rolled his eyes. Regaining her composure, Lily smiled.

“Can we get two birthday specials please?” Lily glanced to Remus as he bit his lip. James leaned closer to the counter.

“Is it your birthday, darling?” his eyes glinted and Remus cleared his throat, feeling like an intruder between the two. Lily smiled sweetly.

“No, it’s Remus’,” she said, placing a hand around Remus’ arm. He grimaced. James leaned back, still smirking at Lily. He tore his eyes away like it was a difficult thing to do and looked toward the other bartender.

“Two birthday specials, Sirius,” he shouted. The bartender— Sirius— looked up. His gaze fell on Remus and he looked him up and down, causing Remus’ cheeks to burn. He thanked the flashing lights for hiding his blush.

“And just what type of birthday special would that be?” he asked, his voice husky. Remus shifted positions and pointedly ignored Lily’s amused gaze.

“The drink type you perv,” James replied, hitting Sirius with a tea towel. Remus found this compeletely ironic with the way James has been ogling Lily a second ago, but he didn’t say anything. James’ mysterious player mask had since been wiped from his face and he grinned at Remus. “Happy birthday, mate,” he said, swinging the tea towel back over his shoulder.

“Thanks,” Remus replied, but James was already at the other end of the bar. Lily took a seat one of the bar stools and looked at Remus, waiting for him to sit too. He rolled his eyes and sat, bringing his feet up onto the bars on the bottom of the stool. In a moment, Sirius had two shot glasses out and was shaking a liquid with brute force. A strand of his hair, which was now held up in a bun, fell into his eyes. Remus wished he could see what colour they were. Sirius, catching his gaze, winked and Remus quickly looked away. James was over talking to another customer, out of breath and sweaty. Remus cringed before a glass hit the wood in front of him. He looked up to see Sirius, fingers still around the glass, looking directly at him. He flashed a white toothed smile and Remus had to try very hard not to reach a hand up to touch his face. Grey. Sirius’ eyes were grey. After a moment and with another quick wink, Sirius let go of the glass and started drying glasses.

“Alright, lover boy, on the count of three,” Lily said. Remus actually looked at the drink now. In front of him was a shot glass, filled with pink liquid and lined with sugar and lemon. He picked it up.

“What’s actually in this?” he asked Lily, who shrugged. She pushed her hair over her shoulder and turned to face Remus more.

“Don’t know. I don’t think I really want to,” she admitted, which definitely didn’t make Remus appealed to the idea of drinking it. “Apparently it’s strong though,” she said. “Or maybe Alice is just weak.” Remus laughed at that. It was his birthday. He might as well.

“Okay. One... two... three,” Remus finished and drank it. Neither Remus nor Lily said anything. He looked up to see Sirius watching and looked back to Lily. She grinned.

“That was absolutely horrible,” she laughed. “No offence,” she threw back to Sirius. Remus laughed and watched Sirius smirk.

“None taken. It’s beer and lemon juice with pink food dye,” he said, laughing. “Positively dodgy,” he added, which probably wasn’t the best thing to do in interest of his job. Remus winced and looked at Lily.

“You let me drink that?” he asked. Lily smiled and nodded.

“You’ll live. Can I get just a shot of vodka?” She called to Sirius. He raised his eyebrows but nodded, walking over.

“And you?” he directed the question to Remus, who was paying notice to the silver dog tags hanging from the bartender’s neck. He blinked and tried to ignore the knowing smirk on Sirus’ perfect face.

“Uh, a whiskey on rocks, thanks,” he mumbled. He pulled at his collar, itchy and tight. Lily laughed.

“You’re such and old man,” she said. Sirius smiled at him and started making their drinks. Remus caught Lily looking over toward James, who was concentrated on wiping a spot on the bar.

“Fancy him?” Remus asked, which snapped Lily out of it. She scoffed and dragged her eyes from James.

“No,” she denied. Lily was never good at acting. “Do you fancy him?” she pat back. Remus blushes as Sirius placed both of their drinks on the counter. “Thanks,” Lily said and downed her shot. Remus was dragged into the dance floor a moment later.

* * *

Panting heavily, Lily requested another shot of vodka, this time from James. Sirius walked through the curtain leading to the back of the bar and locked eyes with Remus, who’d just sat down on a bar stool a little way away from Lily. He didn’t feel inclined to intrude on her and James’ flirting. Sirius placed a box down and started throwing out empty bottles. Remus thought back to the dance floor, where he’d spent the whole half an hour or so looking between Lily and Sirius, who’d spent the whole half hour glancing up at Remus as they danced. Sirius’ bottle duties lead him to Remus’ side of the bar.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked, flashing a smile that caused Remus to practically die. He had two options here, grow an unnatural amount of confidence in the next three seconds or shake his head and smile politely. He did the latter. He sighed and watched Sirius for a moment.

“When does your shift end?” Remus spewed, the words coming out quick and tangled. Sirius looked up and he seemed to get the gist of it. He looked over to Lily and James, still flirting. James was leaning over the bar running his hands through his hair and messing it up even more. Remus looked back to Sirius. His ear was lined with a range of silver rings and studs, and topped of with a silver sword hanging from his ear lobe. His right ear was blank. Remus’ hand went subconsciously up to the thin silver ring on his nose, and suddenly it felt very boring.

“Uh half twelve,” he replied, his voice still husky. Remus nearly sighed. Sirius wiped his palms on his apron and turned around. “So, it’s your birthday?” he asked. Remus nodded before he quickly realised that Sirius couldn’t see him. He’d gone back to throwing away the empty bottles. Over the clinking of the glass and the music—still not good enough to dance to—Remus raised his voice.

“Uh, yeah. 21st,” he said. Sirius raised a groomed eyebrow. Remus ignored the line cut in the other one.

“That’s big. You didn’t seem too excited on the dance floor.” Sirius picked up the box of glass bottles. Remus opened his mouth to reply but Sirius held up a hand and went out the back. Remus looked around the club. Some pop song he didn’t know was playing and an army of sweaty drunks were grinding against each other to it. Remus shook his head just as Sirius came back through the curtain. He looked up and down the bar to see if anyone needed serving, but James was all over it while still watching Lily. Sirius walked back to Remus and smiled.

“Sorry about that,” he said.

“It’s all good, you are at work,” Remus pointed out. Sirius nodded.

“So you were saying?” he prompted. Remus thought back.

“Oh yeah, I don’t really dance,” he said. Sirius raised his eyebrow again.

“At all?” he asked. Remus shook his head. “So there is not one song that you hear and just have to dance to?” he smirked, leaning forward to put his elbows on the bar. A chain hung from his neck and it swung with his movements. Remus thought.

“Well, I can’t confidently say that I wouldn’t at least sing along if ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’ came on,” he admitted. Sirius barked a laugh.

“Queen,” he said approvingly. Remus nodded. “I like you,” he added. Remus tried not to feel warm at that.

“What about you?” he asked instead. Sirius furrowed his brows. “A song that makes you dance,” he clarified. Sirius smiled like he hadn’t been expecting the question.

“Oh, uh... I’ve gotta say ‘I’m Still Standing’,” he admitted. Remus chuckled.

“Elton John,” he said approvingly. “I like you.” Sirius laughed. ‘I like your laugh, too,’ Remus almost added. Sirius stepped back.

“I’ve got to get another box,” he said, walking back to the curtain. Remus nodded.

“Yeah. Alright,” he said, not quite wanting Sirius to leave. He turned to Lily. Her chin rested on her palms as she watched James. Remus chuckled again and Sirius walked back in without a box. Remus looked at him, confused. He was a little bit away, so Remus wouldn’t have been able to hear him if he had tried to talk, but he tapped his wrist to let Remus know to wait a minute. He obliged, watching Sirius start making drinks for two girls a little bit down. Remus turned back to the dance floor and watched as everyone jumped around, smiling and laughing. The music died down and Remus nearly fell of his chair at what happened next. His head snapped back to Sirius, who was grinning at Remus. Don’t Stop Me Now blared over the speakers. He mouthed a quick thank you before he ran over to Lily, who had already stood up and was waiting for him. They danced for the whole song and Remus smiled wider than he had in a long while. I’m Still Standing came on next. Remus kept dancing, but he found his eyes sliding over to Sirius every few moments. When he wasn’t with a customer, he was harassing James with his dancing, singing into bottles of vodka as he mixed drinks. Remus smiled. The song ended and more generic pop songs played. Remus checked his phone. 12:24am. Lily and Remus sat back down at the bar and watched the two bartenders work under the pink and blue lights for a moment.

* * *

“Are you—“

“Do you want to—“

Remus and Lily started talking at the same time. They could barely hear each other over the music, but the point got through and they both laughed.

“You go first,” Lily shouted. Remus nodded and pushed a curl out of his eyes.

“Do you want to hang out with James?” he yelled out. Lily blinked.

“It’s your birthday,” she shouted back like that was the obvious answer. Remus shook his head.

“Technically it’s not anymore,” he stated. Lily rolled her eyes. It was past midnight and no longer his birthday.

“You’re a git.” Remus flicked her, smiling.

“Honestly I don’t care, you can hang out with him if you want.” He may or may not have been saying that so he could hang out with Sirius. Which was stupid, because Sirius probably wasn’t gay. Though he had been watching Remus, being extra nice. But he was flirting with some girls buying drinks. So no. Unless he was bi? But if he had that many options, wouldn’t he definitely be dating someone? Remus shut off his thoughts as Lily smiled.

“I kind of do,” she admitted. “But only if you’re totally okay with it.” Remus nodded. She held up a hand. “Because if you’re not one hundred percent, totally okay with—“

“Lily. Go ask him out,” Remus cut her off. She smiled.

“You have to ask him out, though,” Lily said. Remus raised his eyebrows.

“You don’t even know if he’s gay,” Remus reasoned. Lily only snorted in response.

“Bye Lupin,” she said squeezing his hand. “I love you!” she finished, walking off. Remus shook his head.

“What does that—nevermind. I love you too,” he said and watched Lily practically skip over to James.

* * *

James had murmured something to Sirius, gone out back and reappeared a moment later. He had a hoodie on in place of his apron, and had gone straight to Lily. She’d grinned and took his hand and they’d walked out the door. I’d ordered a shot of whiskey, needing it for what I was about to do.

“It’s 12:35” I said to Sirius. He nodded, pouring out my drink.

“Indeed it is. I’m waiting for Marlene,” he explained. Remus gave him an odd look.

“Co-worker. It’s her shift next,” he said, handing the shot glass over to Remus. He grabbed the glass but didn’t drink it just yet.

“Is she late often?” he asked. Sirius brushed a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Nah, not usually. She has a date with this girl she’s been in love with for like ages.” Well at least he wasn’t homophobic. He started pouring two cocktails for a guy in a bright blue shirt.

“Huh. Cool,” Remus said. Sirius hummed.

“Yeah. She just ditched you on your birthday?” he asked. Remus guessed the ‘she’ he was referring to was Lily.

“It’s not my birthday anymore,” he pointed out, earning a smirk from Sirius. “But no, I told her it was fine. She seems to really like James, which is odd, because she doesn’t like people very often,” Remus said. Sirius smiled.

“I thought she was your girlfriend at first,” he said. “I was wondering why you weren’t biting James’ head off for flirting with her,” he said. Remus laughed. He really laughed.

“Nope. Just no.” Remus couldn’t even imagine dating Lily. Sirius looked up from the cocktail glasses, which he was very carefully lining with salt.

“Gay?” he asked. He poured the drink into the glasses and handed them to blue shirt. Remus shook his head.

“Bi,” he said. Sirius nodded. “But I just... yeah I couldn’t imagine dating Lily.” Sirius smirked.

“Why not? She’s pretty,” he said like it should mean something.

“Yeah, sure, but it’s just wrong.” Remus shuddered thinking about. So, so wrong. Sirius laughed.

“I get that,” he said. Remus didn’t know what that meant. He didn’t ask, though. Instead he though of how Lily had snorted, how she’d told him to ask Sirius out. Remus downed the shot and opened his mouth, ready to talk past the burning in his chest. Ready to ask him out.

A girl rushed through the curtain suddenly, still tying her apron. There was a hickey on her neck, only just visible behind her long, platinum blonde hair. Only it didn’t look at all fake. She winced when she saw Sirius, her dark red lipstick bold against her white teeth.

“Sirius! I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to be so late! We just—uh... got caught up,” she chuckled nervously. Sirius laughed.

“I’d hardly call ten minutes late,” he said. “It went well then?” Marlene smiled and winked at Remus before she looked back to Sirius.

“Very,” was all she said. Remus could guess what that meant. He thought of what he’d been about to do. He didn’t even know if Sirius was gay. It was stupid and he should just leave. He turned to Sirius.

“Uh, it was nice to meet you, Sirius,” he said. “But I should get going. Thanks for the drinks,” he said, laying a fifty dollar bill on the bar. Sirius furrowed his brows.

“That’s too much,” he said, but that seemed to be the last thing he wanted to say. Remus nodded.

“Keep the change. Good service,” Remus said, walking away. He could have sworn he heard his name called out over the music, but he brushed it off and stepped out into the cold air. The music quickly stopped and he breathed in the air. He could have just asked. It wouldn’t have hurt to ask. Maybe he should have gone back. But he didn’t. He called an Uber instead. It was ten minutes away. He sat against the brick wall of the club and looked up at the stars.

A few minutes passed before a face appeared in place of the stars, but Remus wasn’t complaining.

“Sirius?” he said, standing up. He wished he hadn’t. Sirius was changed now, and he was standing in front of Remus, perfectly casual, and dressed in ripped black jeans, a black shirt (too tight for Remus’ own good), Black Doc Martens and a big, chain-adorned leather jacket. Remus could have died on the spot.

“Remus, hey,” he said nervously.

“You’re off work,” Remus replied, pointing out the utterly obvious. Sirius cracked a smile.

“Yeah. Do you—have you got anything on tomorrow?” he asked, playing with a zip on his jacket. Remus rubbed at the back of his neck. It was a Sunday tomorrow.

“No, I uh, no I don’t,” he said.

“Okay, cool. Can I... hang out with you, maybe?” he asked. Remus blinked. What was that supposed to mean?

“Sure... why?” he asked before he realised how much he sounded like a dick. Sirius blinked. “Ah, sorry... I just mean. Well. Yeah, why?” Sirius smirked at Remus’ flailing hands.

“I...” Sirius sighed. “Okay I’ll just... can I kiss you?” He blurted out. Remus’ eyes widened.

“What?” He didn’t know what else to say. Sirius closed his eyes.

“Shit. I’m sorry. It’s just you said you were bi and I just assumed—I’m sorry—“

“Yes.” Remus smiled. “Yeah, you can kiss me.” Bloody hell, he wanted Sirius to kiss him. Sirius smiled.

“Yeah?” Sirius looked into his eyes, and Remus noticed that they weren’t just grey. They were silver and bright and wonderful. Remus nodded. Sirius raised himself up to match Remus’ height, not by much but enough. When he closed the gap between them, though, Remus almost melted. His lips were soft, they were everything. This was everything. They finally broke apart, Remus’ hand tangled in Sirius’ hair and their breaths clouding in the night air. Sirius smiled. “Happy birthday, Remus.” Remus laughed and kissed him again.

“Not my birthday anymore, Sirius,” he said and Sirius chuckled.

“How were you planning on getting home?” Sirius asked. Remus held up his phone.

“Uber.”

“Cancel it. I’ve got a motorbike.”

Oh god.

“Cancelled.”

263 notes · View notes

gellavonhamster · 4 years

Text

herr lucifer, beware, beware

Dracula x Carmilla crossover || Lucy Westenra & (/?) Carmilla Karnstein

ao3 link eng || ao3 link rus

Out of the ash

I rise with my red hair

And I eat men like air.

– Sylvia Plath, Lady Lazarus

Lucy dyes her hair for the first time in her life already after her death.

Twilight reigns in the room, where the air smells of perfume and mustiness; all windows are curtained, and the only light is coming from some thoroughly melted candles. This, however, causes difficulty neither for Lucy, as lately she has no trouble seeing in the dark, nor for her new acquaintance who has armed herself with a thick brush and is presently putting dye on Lucy’s hair. The flame of the candle standing on the table in front of Lucy keeps trembling nervously. A drop of dye falls on the bed sheet that Lucy is draped in as if in another shroud.

“It’s green,” Lucy murmurs as she casts a glance at the swamp-coloured stain on her knees. In truth, she does not care much about the future colour of her hair – it is no longer possible for her to go for a stroll in daylight anyway.

“That is just for now. On your hair, it will look red,” assures her Carmilla. That was how she introduced herself: “Call me Carmilla. This one is my favourite name.” It was her idea to dye Lucy’s hair. “It’s a small town, darling. You don’t need to be recognized. It’s enough that this much people are aware that you do not rest in peace.” ‘This much’ means her Arthur and Professor Van Helsing and Dr. Seward and Mr. Morris. Lucy watched them from behind the wall of someone’s moss-covered crypt while Carmilla – back then she didn’t know her name yet – was covering Lucy’s mouth with her hand and whispering in her ear: “See what they brought with them? They came to murder you. Forget what they meant to you, for they have ceased caring what you meant to them.” Lucy struggled to break away but couldn’t, because Carmilla, petite and delicate and outwardly not older than she, was as strong as five adult men – neither could she not look at the sharp wooden stake in Arthur’s hands. Then she let Carmilla lead her away from the graveyard, and left Arthur and the others by the crypt, possibly to wait for her until morning.

“It smells like grass,” Lucy observes. The dye smells of grass indeed and, ever so slightly, of cucumbers, for some reason.

“It’s henna, my dear. It’s made from dried leaves.” After the final dab, Carmilla throws the brush into a basin, pulls the bed sheet off Lucy, tears off a piece of fabric with ease, and wraps it around Lucy’s hair. “Now you have to wait for about two hours, and then wash your hair.”

It appears that Carmilla finds it all amusing – dyeing Lucy’s hair, picking out her own dresses to give her. Lucy follows her instructions almost mechanically, without much thought. The world around her is now far too full of sounds and smells and colours, much more than it used to be, and her new life is far too full of rules she doesn’t understand properly yet and finds perplexing. Therefore, if Carmilla needs her in order to stave off boredom, then she needs Carmilla in order to learn to navigate this new world without dying for the second time. Besides, she is all but constantly starving, and Carmilla is a much more experienced huntress than she, and doesn’t mind sharing, seeing as she doesn’t waste time on small children, and adults have plenty of blood to spare to satiate the two of them.

There is never any blood left for the ones they suck it from, though – unlike Lucy, Carmilla doesn’t let her prey walk away.

“It is high time for us, child, to discuss what we are going to do next,” says Carmilla, as if having sensed that Lucy is pondering over the reasons why she needs Carmilla and Carmilla needs her. She sits down on the edge of the table, and looks at Lucy downwards. In the dusk, her eyes shine like those of a cat. “What do you remember about the one who granted you eternal life?”

What does she remember about the one who killed her?

“Not much,” Lucy says tentatively. Strange as it may be, these memories are clearer now than they were back when she was alive, but still fairly vague, still seeming as much of a nightmare as before. “He was tall, with long dark hair, with a sharp nose. With a dark moustache. With a… cruel face. I don’t know who he was and where he came from – I’ve never seen him in Whitby before.”

“I know who he was,” says Carmilla. Her face, usually so sweet and gentle even as she drinks the blood of another victim, looks just as cruel now. “Vlad Dracula, a Transilvanian count.”

“Are you acquainted?”

“Not in person,” Carmilla looks away. She still looks angry, but aside from hate, a certain suppressed pain is discernible in her countenance. “He took something from me.”

“Took something?” Lucy echoes.

Carmilla gets up, approaches her from behind, and puts her hands on Lucy’s shoulders.

“Have you ever been in love, darling?” she asks. Her dainty hands stroke Lucy’s shoulders through the thin silk of the dressing gown.

Lucy thinks of Arthur – but she is no longer able to think of him the way she used to when she was alive. She is drawn to him as strongly as never before – but at the same time she is also drawn to her other two suitors, whom she only used to fantasise about briefly and lightly, and she cannot figure out what part of this attraction is love, and what is hunger. She thinks of Arthur’s slender neck, of blue lines on Dr. Seward’s pale wrists, of the outlines of veins on Mr. Morris’s strong arms. Of Mina in her bed, blanket thrown off in her sleep, throat bared to the July night. Of their blood that calls to her more vehemently than the dreams of kisses and embraces – although of those as well.

“Yes,” she replies. If there is one thing she is sure of, it is that she has been in love.

“So have I,” Carmilla tells her quietly. Her hands stop moving.

“What was his name?”

“Her name is not important,” and Lucy feels, inexplicably, a strange joy upon hearing how calmly Carmilla pronounces that ‘her’. She pictures Mina again – Mina, who probably has no idea that her Lucy is gone. “What is important is that she was special. Against my nature I knew that I would not deal with her the same way as with all my previous lovers. I wanted to make it so that we would always be together. To make her the same as me and you. She knew what I was, and agreed to my proposal, just asked me to give her time to settle some affairs she was to leave in the past. That’s how special she was.” Suddenly, Carmilla’s nails sink into her shoulders. “Then he came.”

“What happened next?” Lucy asks. It hurts, but not too much – her reborn body is far tougher than before. She can bear it for a while if it helps her find out what Carmilla wants from her after all. “He bit her first, didn’t he?”

Carmilla snorts with disdain.

“No. What would that have changed? What would have a man’s bite meant against mine? No, he just drank her dry. All to the last drop. When I found her, she was already dead. Not dead like us, my dear – completely dead.”

So that’s it.

“You want revenge,” Lucy says. Carmilla loosens her grip a little, and bends down so that her cheek is touching Lucy’s.

“Do you not?” she enquires.

Lucy thinks of Arthur – of the sharpened stake in his hands, of the wedding they didn’t get to have. Of her mother, dead with a mask of horror on her face. Of herself, a carefree and happy girl that exists no more.

She enjoys wandering at night, but she used to love the sun.

“Probably,” she admits gingerly. Carmilla puts her chin on Lucy’s shoulder.

“Then,” she says with satisfaction, “come to London with me.”

The next couple of hours they spend preparing for the journey – packing dresses and shoes, undergarments and toiletries. In the process, Carmilla enlightens Lucy on the subject of the enemy they are going to face. According to her, he’s not just a vampire – he’s also a sorcerer, and thus more powerful and dangerous by a long way.

“How will we beat him then?” Lucy cannot help wondering. Carmilla shrugs.

“By the power of grief and rage, love and loss,” she says. “Also, we’ll catch him by surprise. He doesn’t expect you to come for him, all the more not me. Men like him have a short memory.”

Already towards morning, Lucy bends over the bathtub and washes off the henna. Examining the strands of her wet hair in the candlelight, she sees that they are red.

“I have learned to do without mirrors a long time ago,” remarks Carmilla, hugging her around the waist. “But sometimes one cannot help missing them. Let me assure you, darling, that this colour looks good on you.”

Red like dried blood – her own blood spilled by Dracula, his blood that will get spilled when she and Carmilla get him, the blood of Arthur and Mina and Dr. Seward and Mr. Morris who – somehow it feels so easy to believe it right now – will all be with her sooner or later.

Lucy smiles.

“That’s what I thought,” she says.

#lucy westenra #carmilla #dracula #bram stoker #joseph sheridan le fanu #lumina #my fic #gella talks dracula #talk talk talk #the last hurrah before plunging back into the abyss of work and hate

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coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe · 3 years

Text

Coffee and Blood or Coffee with André, Bleeding with Piper

Quick Tag List: @kuruumiya @spacelizardtrashboys @enigmaticandunstable @nattinngrst @amyofaquitaine

This passage contains potentially: drinking (recreational), sexual 'jokes', swearing, violence.

Summary: In this 'chapter' Kirby hangs out with both André and Piper, sharing drinks with the giant and sparring with the Scotsman. We also get more of an introduction to the rest of the Daughters of Darkness and Damien.

Kirby’s POV:

I woke up earlier than expected on the following Thursday, around four-forty-five in the morning, before sunrise. I decided to get a head start on my usual morning routine, brushing my teeth, showering, washing my long blonde hair and brushing it whilst drying it with a hairdryer.

I have decided that the moment I get enough money, or the moment it gets too unmanageable, I will cut my hair and possibly dye it. I remember back when I was a teenager I had dyed my hair all sorts of crazy colours. When I won the tag tag titles back as a part of the Celtic Warriors, my hair was a dark green, in contrast to Erik's (My tag partner's) ginger locks.

I managed to find a black shirt and some sepia hued trousers in the mess that was my suitcase, having let Holly borrow my old graphic band tees a couple days ago meant that she had rearranged my stuff in a way that no human would think possible. By the time I had gotten dressed the hotel landline next to the bed started ringing, hesitant at first, I decided to pick it up.

"Hello, Mademoiselle Lucifarian?"

"André?"

"Oui, uh, I was wondering if you would like to get breakfast together, around six?"

"Oh, uh, Oui, I would love that, where should I meet you?"

"The hotel lobby, the sooner the better, people are staring at me."

André hung up the phone and, after putting my hair up into a ponytail and a watch on my wrist, I headed down to the hotel lobby, the ideas of where André could possibly take me ranging from quaint cafe's to any bar or pub that would be open this early.

By the time I got down to the lobby I could see a small crowd around my fellow giant. He waved me over and said his goodbyes to the gaggle of fans and we left.

Somehow, in the middle of New York, André had managed to find a quaint little café. We found a small table at the back and got to talking, and eating. I had taken my mask off and placed it beside the small sugar bowl on the table. André ordered our food and then starts the conversation.

"So, uh what did you do before you came to America?"

"Oh, I wrestled in a tag team while in England."

"What did you do before wrestling?"

"I can't remember much, I think just school. Kid stuff. You?"

"I wrestled in France under many names. Before that, I was schooled until I was fourteen."

"You left school at fourteen?" I took a sip of the coffee he had chosen for me, tasting a hint of whiskey and cocking an eyebrow at him.

He smiled and nodded, taking a swig from the pint of beer in front of him. André is known for his drinking, although I am also a giant, the fact that he's paying for the two of us to drink so early in the day makes me cautious of how much he drinks, or am I more afraid of how much he'll make me drink. I shake the thoughts from my mind and take a larger sip from the Irish coffee he has blatantly ordered me.

"Drey." I look over at his plates, unlike my one plate, a full English (minus the black pudding) André has a whole side of the table covered in food.

"Drey," good lord, I've already given him a nickname, "Drey, how can you eat all of this? A lesser man would have no chance to get through that."

He puts a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter and our conversation continues for a while until André brings up an uncomfortable subject.

"Why do you hide your face?"

I shift in my seat and André's brows furrow slightly with worry. He picks up the mask before I can put it back in it's rightful place, turning it in his hands, examining it in all it's small details.

"I guess it drives up my asking price." It's a bold-faced lie and I know it but it's better than revealing all my insecurities before I even have my first match, or even cut my first promo in the WWF.

André nods solemnly, he can tell I don't want to talk about it any further. He pays for the meal, I put my mask back on and we parted ways. I went back to the hotel, changed into my work out gear, grabbed my gym bag and headed to the nearest gym.

I set myself up at a heavy bag and begin my usual workout after warming up. Punches, knees, kicks. And right when I'm in the middle of my workout I feel a tap on my arm. I whip around and whip my hair into my arm.

"Oh, it's you, Roddy," I try to get my breath back in-between words, upon regaining my breath I continue, "What d'you want?"

"I just wanted to say, you have excellent form." The smug smile on his face tells me everything.

"I'm not in the mood, Roddy, bugger off." I growled at him.

Roddy scowls before continuing the conversation, "Alright missy, those are fightin' words"

"Oh really?" I challenge.

"Really."

We begin walking over to the makeshift ring.

"Really Roddy?"

"Really Gluttony."

Out the back of the gym, open air but clean of any twigs or bugs, simple but sturdy. The Squared Circle.

Piper gets in the same way as last time we sparred as do I. I get a quick glance at Piper's reaction, his eyes widen slightly, he's still surprised by me jumping over the ropes.

"You must have a thing for proving your agility, Gluttony," He stops momentarily and it's as if I can see the cogs turning in his mind, "What is your name?" He finally says after a minute of silence.

"I'm Kirby Lucifarian," a white lie but technically whilst in the ring my surname becomes 'Lucifarian' and no longer am I a 'Trevor', "Most people know me as Gluttony, however."

"Even with that mask on?"

It's honestly a good question but I don't want him knowing every little detail of my gimmick.

"Even with the mask on."

"Really?"

At this point he's taunting me and so I put my fists up to start the sparring session, "Really really."

During the sparring session he questioned me on my work with the WWF.

"When's your first match?"

"Saturday, West Milford, New Jersey, Why d'you ask?"

"Can I watch?" He smirks before trying to Irish whip me into the corner and failing.

I stop, making myself a dead weight in the middle of the ring, "What!?"

Rod takes a couple step backwards, I follow him, backing him into the corner of the ring.

"What did you just ask me, Piper?"

He puts his hands up over his head, "Hey, I'm just messin' with ya."

"No, no no no, what'd ya jus' ask me? Ya dafty, what'd ya jus' ask me?"

Now fully backed into the turnbuckle, Rod puts his hands on my shoulders to keep me out of his face, "I only asked if I can watch you wrestle."

Upon hearing a lack of fear in his voice, I cock an eyebrow, confused and take a step back.

Upon realising that he's stunned me, Roddy takes his chance and punches me in the gut.

I double over, winded but not too hurt.

When Roddy gets close enough I hit him with the Vampire's Bite.

He falls back, slamming his back into the mat.

I get up and check him, unknowingly letting him kick me in the groin, hard.

"Ya hit," I heave, "A little low, Roddy."

He lets out a laugh and reaches out a hand.

I help him up and he pulls me into a hug, "I'm sorry about that, ya dafty."

I glare at him and he lets out another laugh, I fail to keep my composure and laugh with him. I look over at the building, a clock on the outside wall reads four-thirty, pm.

"Another time, Roddy?"

"Ya gotta go somewhere?"

"Yeah, I'm supposed to meet Damien and the girls for dinner at five." I point the clock out to him.

He looks at the clock and once again I see the cogs turning in his mind, "Maybe the clock's wrong."

I laugh and he shrugs.

"Ya never know, d'ya. Kirby?"

"Yes, Roddy?"

"Ya never said if I can watch ya wrestle on Saturday."

I give him a glare before sighing out a "Sure, Roddy."

He smirks, his dumb face making me want to punch him in the mouth."

I slip on the wet grass, getting out of the ring and fall over onto a jagged rock, splitting open the palm of my left hand and the my right shin. I yelp out a quick 'shit' and Rod rushes over to me, helping me up.

He grabs my stuff whilst I clean myself up in a nearby bathroom. When I get out of the bathroom, Rod walks over to me with a roll of gauze.

"C'mere," He grabs my wrist and wraps the gauze around my hand, wrapping the bandage around two or three times before cutting the gauze and tying it off and moving to wrap the gauze around my leg.

He rolls up the right leg of my leggings and I give him a look of 'Do you really have to do that' and as if he can read my mind he mutters out a small 'shut up' and continues to bandage my leg.

Piper gives me my gym bag and lets me walk back to the hotel. I reach the hotel with a slight limp from the pain now coursing through my leg every time I take a step or put my weight on the leg.

I take the elevator and reach my room, hearing Sam's voice already in the room, "God, she's got a spare key, hasn't she." I whisper to myself before opening the door.

Sam, already dressed in a suit, springs off the bed and runs to hug me.

"Hey, Fireball."

"Hey, Tall-ass."

Sam lets me go before noticing the bandages.

"What happened?" Her voice instantly turning from 'Cute Little Sister' to 'Italian Mafioso Interrogator' in an instant.

"Me and Piper were sparring, I slipped when gettin' out of the ring, why?"

Her eyebrows raise and I can immediately tell what she's thinking.

"You were, 'Sparring'?"

"Not like that, Sammie, actually sparring, he kicked me in the groin, we weren't 'Sparring' like Billie does, alright?"

"Alright," she looks down at her wrist watch, moving her leather glove to do so, "We've got three minutes."

Putting the final flourishes of my suit, which matches Sam's, into place, "Let's go then, Sammie."

We leave the hotel, Sam helping me lessen the weight on my leg and head to what we both would call 'The Fanciest restaurant in New York'.

The table Damien has reserved for us, under the 'Lucifarian' name, is bigger than expected.

"It's as if Damien's expecting more than just the eight of us." Billie points out, smoothing out her short, midnight blue dress.

"Good evening ladies." Damien brings Sam, Billie and myself over to our seats.

As per usual, I am at the opposite end of the table to Damien, he always keeps an eye on me but keeps me at arm's length.

"How did you get hurt, Kirby?" Damien brings up the injuries I sustained earlier yet again.

"I fell over earlier while at the gym."

I don't want Damien knowing about me and Piper sparring, he'll admonish me for hanging around Piper without him there. He looks at me with a slight suspicion in his eyes.

I order a glass of Rosé wine and a bowl of French Onion Soup.

"So, Sam's said you've been 'Sparring' with somebody." Holly asks.

"Actual sparring Hol, not 'Sparring'." I clarify, taking a moment to size up Damien and make sure he doesn't question me further.

When the food finally arrives I shift my focus from Damien to the food. The fact that the last time I ate was this morning finally hits me and just looking at the bowl of soup makes my stomach growl ravenously. Upon hearing this, the rest of the girls struggle to contain their laughter.

"I know, I know." I shrug off the humiliation of my loud-ass stomach and manage to finish my meal and wine before the rest of the table.

After the meal, Damien makes us (except for Vickie) pay for the cheque. We go our separate ways. I go back to the hotel and sit on the edge of the bed, still in my suit.

"Man, I gotta wrestle with injuries now, how's that for a debut." I mutter to myself and shift my focus to getting out of the suit so I can sleep.

I take a long look at myself in the mirror and sigh, before questioning myself, "Why am I so afraid of Damien knowing I sparred with piper?"

And with that question still in my mind, I go to bed and quickly fall asleep.

END OF COFFEE WITH ANDRÉ, BLEEDING WITH PIPER / COFFEE AND BLOOD

#Lucifarians #wrestling fic

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love-the-purple-cat · 4 years

Text

Oh don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me - Chapter 1 Part 5

“Yer hair again?” She asks, idly kicking one of the men when they try to get up.

“Not quite. They got mad I beat up their men who made fun of my hair and decided that I needed to be taught a lesson.”

She snorts unattractively. “Do ya even like yer hair colour?”

Once again, Ichigo pauses in though. “...Why do you ask that?”

“Cause, no offence, but yer hair keeps gettin' ya inta trouble, and ya don’t even seem ta’ appreciate it. If it’s too much then just dye it sumthin' borin'.”

...It’s not that he hadn’t thought about it, it’s just that it was one of the few connections he had still with his mother. Dyeing it seemed like a betrayal, and felt like giving up and admitting defeat after fighting others about it for so long.

“Ah, that does sound like a good reason not ta' dye it,” She says when he unintentionally thinks aloud. “But yer missin' ma' point: Are ya happy wit' yer hair? The colour will still appear when ya grow it out, it’ll just be temporarily hidden.”

He lightly fingers a strand. It was getting longer.

“I'll think about it.”

She nods. Neither pleased nor displeased.

------------------------

“Come over this weekend.”

They are eating lunch in her classroom, in a way celebrating becoming friends after knowing each other for a month. Her classmates occasionally throw them looks that they ignore.

“Sure. What are we goin' ta' do?”

He thinks of the box of black hair dye that he got on his last shopping trip with Yuzu two days ago. Yuzu had looked at him questionably but hadn’t said a thing to their family. “I need help with my hair.”

Cherī raises a brow, not getting the hint.

“I’m...” He swallows, eyes flickering to the other people in the room. “I’m thinking of trying something new. That thing you talked about a few days ago.”

It takes a moment longer for her eyes to light up in recognition and understanding. “Sure, where will we meet up?”

The corner of his lip twitches up.

---------------------------

“Yer mom famous or sumthin'?”

He looks to where she is examining his mother’s poster. “No, my dad got it after she died.”

She appears to be contemplating something before looking away. “So, where’s yer bathroom? Ah’m not gonna lie, da dye will stain yer bathtub/tiles like a bitch when ya wash it out. Best ya put on some old clothes too.”

Ichigo nods and leads the way, feeling nervous and calm at the same time.

Cherī orders him to sit on the edge of the bath, or bring a chair but then there’s a chance that it would be stained so he doesn’t. She starts by brushing his hair and parting it before beginning. “Ya sure ‘bout this, Ichigo?”

“Yeah.” His tone is breathless, heart thumping hard in his ribcage and something is lodged in his throat.

“Okay.” Her voice is soft and quiet, though not in comfort. It just is.

His eyes close, a foreign calmness taking over him as she works on his hair. It isn’t as short as it used to be, but it isn’t as long as he would have guessed it would be after not seeing a hairdresser for nearly a year.

“An’ now we leave it fer 25mins.” Her voice arouses him from the half-asleep state he had been in. He turns to look at himself in the mirror, but she blocks his view. “Let’s leave that fer later, okay?” Her voice is soft again.

He swallows thickly and nods. “Okay.”

They go to his room. They don’t talk, not really, but the silence doesn’t feel suffocating. She looks around the small space, and the though of how empty his room looks strikes him. There is only the essentials of a bed, a desk with a corkboard over it, and a chair. It doesn’t have any personality.

But, why does he care what his room looks like to an outsider?

“Ya got any favourite books?” Cherī asks, done looking around the bare room.

“Shakespeare.” He answers automatically.

“He’s good. Don’t know much ‘bout his works, only Romeo an' Juliet an’ that’s just a general idea. Ah like Dracula, an' Dr.Jekyl an' Mr.Hyde. Ya know, books wit' what could be considered a homoerotic undertone nowadays.” She looks at the notes stuck on the board. Most of them are related to school or past commitments so he doesn’t see a problem with her looking.

“Ya got any relatives? Ah got at least two first cousins an' a bunch of other great aunts an' uncles that ma' parents want me ta know ‘bout even though Ah only meet ‘em once every five years. Kinda pisses me off when they get annoyed that Ah don’t know any of their names, but that’s what happens when ya barely see someone.”

He blinks. This was the first time since the first day that she is mentioning family. “Not on my mom’s side, I think. But on my dad's...”

Did he have relatives in Soul Society? There were quite a few similarities between him and Kūkaku, and Ukitake-taichō had mentioned that he looks like his former lieutenant Shiba Kaien.

“’s okay ta' not know.” Cherī says. “Family’s confusin' sumtimes, an' it doesn’t help when they keep secrets, or don't bother mentionin' important stuff.”

She was right. His father had kept the fact that he was a shinigami from him, what’s one more secret?

“Time ta' wash yer hair. Ya need help wit' that?”

“No.”

She doesn’t smile, nor does she frown. “Okay.”

-------------‐-----------------

He doesn’t like how he looks.

No...

He hates how he looks. He looks way too similar to Kūkaku, with his sharp chin and eyes.

He looks way too similar to them.

What was one more secret?

-The past is never dead. It’s just buried underneath soil and concrete-

“Ichigo,” Cherī calls, brown brows furrowed in concern. “Are ya okay?”

No. “Yeah.” He croaks. He clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah, just getting used to the new look.” He tries to smile but it must have come out as a grimace with the way she frowns.

“Okay. Ya got a dark hat or sumthin'?”

“Why?”

“’Cuz we're goin' ta' da store an' we're gonna buy ya a new dye.”

“This one is fine.”

“No, it ain't.” Her voice is a touch harder. “It’s makin' ya sad an' that’s da opposite of what we were aimin’ fer.”

“Cherī-“ He tries but is cut off.

“There's nothin’ wrong wit’ not likin' how ya look. Nothin' wrong wit' not likin’ black.” She says, and for a single moment, it feels as though she is talking about something else, like she knows what his inner tumour is about. “Let’s go get ya a new colour, Ichi.”

He nods, and chokes out an “Okay.”

-----------------------

They're at one of the shops on the main street.

The first thing that greets them when they enter is hair dyes on one side of the aisle and deodorants on the other. Ichigo browses through the ‘natural’ colours first before going to the more ‘fun' – as Cherī calls them – ones.

All the colours of the rainbow were here: red, green, blue, purple, yellow and orange, along with a couple of other colours, each having different shades from lighter to darker.

“When Ah first started dyeing ma' hair,” Cherī says, picking up a box and examining it. “Ah did it in ma' favourite colour – purple. Months later, Ah found out that if Ah planned on continuin' ta' dye ma’ hair fun colours, da colours would need ta' be ones that can easily be turned inta the next. Fer example: Ya dye yer hair blue, few months pass and ya want a new colour, yer either gonna havta bleach it or yer gettin' it done in green. Understand?” She places two bleaching kits in the basket.

Ichigo nods, examining the colours. His eyes stray towards the blue dyes, specifically the one that reminds him of Grimmjow.

He swallows.

Several months have passed since he had last seen the Espada; how would he react if he were to see him now – powerless and alone?

Well, he glances at Cherī as she compares two different shades of pink, not quite alone.

“Do ya like blue?” She asks, both boxes securely placed in the basket.

“Yeah,” He wets his lips. “I do.” It feels like he is confessing a sin by saying those words and thinking about his enemy. Were they even enemies now?

“Then get it.” She doesn’t reach for the box, preferring to wait for him to do it.

“It will clash with my complexion.” He argues weakly. Raising two girls since he was nine forced him to dive into fashion and learn the rules: body types, complexions, colour schemes and such. There were many other things he had to learn and do while his father was in mourning to survive but now was not the time to think about the past.

“So? This ain’t a fashion statement, Ichi. It's about makin' ya feel good and happy. But... if ya want a more autumn colour we can get red.” She reaches for the box and he grabs her wrist.

“No, not red.” Red reminds him of Renji, who reminds him of Rukia. Neither has bothered to visit him the months following Aizen's defeat. The excuse of him being unable to see them wouldn’t fly, not when he knew Urahara keeps gigais in his shop.

-There are bodies in the soil-

“Okay.” She says, slowly pulling her hand away. “Not red then. Bad memories?”

He winces, releasing her wrist to rub at his neck. “It’s... complicated.”

The girl huffs, “What does it remind ya of?”

He meant to say, “Nothing”. He wanted to say, “Renji”.Hell, he could have said nothing and she would have accepted his silence as an answer. Which is why he is so surprised when the word leaves his mouth without his permission.

“Blood.”

And it is true. The shade she was reaching for also reminds him of blood. It makes him remember the wound he had been inflicted in Hueco Mundo, where he quite literally died and was dead for a while, long enough for his inner Hollow to take control and battle the cuatro Espada Ulquiorra and win, before he managed to wrestle back control of his body. It also reminds him of the markings on his hollow mask.

Cherī looks surprised - not mortified, just... surprised. “Okay,” She repeats. “Not red.”

She’s examining the colours, searching for one that would fit his complexion, when he reaches forward and plucks the blue, Baby Blue, one and puts it in the basket. She doesn’t question him, doesn’t even indicate to have seen him do it but he knows she saw him and he appreciates her silence.

“What ‘bout green?”

His first though is Ulquiorra with his acid green eyes, marble skin, and black black bat wings that carry him over the sands of Hueco Mundo.

His second is Nelliel.

“I like it.” He picks a turquoise shade called Mermaid.

“Pink?”

He likes pink, he's worn it often enough when he was younger and his sisters wanted to dress him up, but...

“No, not today.”

“Bad memories?”

He thinks of Yachiru, the girl with what he would describe bubblegum pink – even if that shade is called Cupcake here – hair and the man whose shoulder she would ride on.

“Not really.”

She nods, then juts her chin violently towards a reddish-pink colour named Love Letter. “What ‘bout that?”

The colour is nice so he gets it.

They continue on like that for a while, choosing and comparing colours - some of which repeat since Cherī also likes them - until the basket is overflowing. As a final colour Cherī chooses Snow – a pure white colour that reminded him of his inner Hollow's hair.

There's so much hair dye that he wonders whether he would ever be able to use each at least once.

The cashier is baffled by the amount but remains silent while she rings them up. It's as the numbers climb higher and higher that he begins to worry, given that he hadn’t brought that much money. But before he can open his mouth Cherī is already handing her credit card with a, “Could you also add one strawberry and one cherry flavoured chapstick? Thank you.”

He turns to look at her in bafflement. This was the first time he hears her speak ‘properly’ and it honestly unnerves him.

“Not ev'ryone can understan’ me, Ichi.” She says, handing him one of the bags.

They make their way to his house, talking about which colour they should do first. Cherī wants to see him in Love Letter or Milan – a light yellow colour that reminds him of an éclair's filling – but he says that he wants to try Baby Blue. She nods and gives him the strawberry chapstick.

“Yer lips are chapped.” She says and he accepts it.

#bleach #bleach au #ichigo kurosaki #kurosaki ichigo #cherī akao #akao cherī #Protector and Cherry AU #The Past is Never Dead AU

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #399

“i was raised by the devil’s own kin, taught me that a good time was never a sin”

Do you like wine? NOOOOOOO that shit is gross. Explain the grossest thing that's ever happened to you? Having an infected pilonidal cyst drained. Would you rather go on holiday somewhere warm or somewhere cold? Cold, for sure. What would be your ideal pet? I reeeeaaaally want a very visibly sunset morph ball python one day. The really pretty ones are expensive as fuck, but omg, I want one so badly. What was the last book you were required to read for school? The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. It was fantastic. Would you chew somebody else's gum? EW FUCK NO. What was the last type of meat you ate? Chicken. How old were you when you had your first kiss? 16. At what age would you allow your kids to dye their hair? Whenever they wanted, as long as a professional did it. Which fast food place do you eat at the most? Probably McDonald's. Bats are not spooky or are they? I adore bats. Do you like the song "Womanizer?" Unabashedly, yes, haha. I love the beat and it's really catchy. Do you know how to change a tire? Nope. How big is your backyard? Very small. What is your favorite Nintendo 64 game? I've actually never played a Nintendo 64. If you want children, what are some of your reasons for wanting them? I don't want any. Does a career in finance sound interesting to you? Absolutely not. When you cook a dish that has beans in it, do you prefer to use canned or dry beans? I. HATE. Beans. What’s something that makes absolutely zero sense to you? Those that deny the existence of dinosaurs. Fossils don't lie. Do you like strawberry shortcake? No. What’s your favorite dessert? That's so hard, but probably cheesecake. What’s the last you got out of the freezer? Vanilla ice cream. Do you know anybody who is ambidextrous? Sara. Have you ever been 4-wheeling? Yes. Will you be attending any weddings in the near future? No. If you have glasses, have you ever smashed them? No. What was the last thing you got a really good deal on? My APAP mask. Insurance covered it way more than even the women in the office were used to so had to look into it. Insurance has been nice to me lately, from TMS to this. What was the last reason you took medicine? I had a massive headache. Any important birthdays coming up? My older sister's was today, and her eldest daughter's is in two days. Mark's birthday is the 28th, and that's like a holiday in my book lmao. What colour are your headphones? These earplugs are pink. How do you express your creativity? I mostly write RP and rarely poems. I also like to draw sometimes, and I'm big into photography. Gypsies or gnomes? Gypsies. Dragons or fairies? Dragons are my favorite mythological creatures. Elves or pixies? Elves. Where is your favourite place to get breakfast? Maybe Cracker Barrel? Or Waffle House. What was the first sport you learned how to play? I want to say soccer. I hated it. Nickname you’re called the most? "Britt" is the most used. Do you sleep on your stomach? I can't now with my mask. -_- That's how I usually slept. Have you ever been called a bitch? Yes. Would you ever want a super-realistic baby doll? Fuuuuuuuuuck no. I don't like dolls, never mind realistic ones. Ladybugs or bumblebees? Ladybugs. <3 What is the best thing that ever happened to you? My first round of a partial hospitalization program and meeting my psychiatrist. Both that therapy and proper medication is the reason I'm alive. What is something really hurtful someone you love has said to you? That I was an "ungrateful bitch." What Facebook groups have you found the most helpful? One for advanced ball python husbandry. There are some SERIOUS elitists in there, but it does have great information. Did your mom ever own a typewriter? I think she did? We used to have one, so. What would you have your bridesmaids wear? Maybe orange. I want to wear a black dress and get married in the fall, so, Halloween vibes! :') Where do you want to go on your honeymoon? I think Alaska. Do you wear a watch every day? I never do. Have you ever personally been a victim of homophobia? No, thankfully. Not yet, anyway. Do you think you’d be happier if you had a pet? I am much happier with pets. Were you ever hospitalized as a little kid? No. Have you been hurt more by friend break-ups or romantic break-ups? Romantic ones. Who is/was the best friend you have ever had? Sara. Do you own a trenchcoat? No, but I wish. They're badass. Name the hardiest piece of technology you own? My iPod that I've had since middle school. That bitch STILL works, and I use it heavily. Are you currently in a smoking environment? No; people aren't allowed to smoke in our house. Have you ever owned a tire swing? No. Does anyone you know own a bird that can talk? My old friend Alex did. I don't know if I can call her my "friend" anymore because I haven't seen or heard from her in well over a year at the bare minimum. Do you ever not speak to someone because you’re afraid you’ll annoy them? STORY OF MY LIFE. Is there any drama going on in your circle of friends? No. But I don't really have a "circle" of friends to begin with. Have you ever lost your luggage at an airport? No. Have you ever been on a rollercoaster that actually scared you? I don't go on rollercoasters. If given the opportunity, would you act in a commercial? No. Do you believe in finders keepers in most situations? No. How many pills do you currently take a day? Ugh... Now keep in mind this number encompasses medications that I just have to take a larger dose of that particular med; I don't take this number of different prescriptions. AS a whole though, I take uhhh. Somewhere around nine or ten in the morning, and six at night. I might be off about my morning pills. What do you take medication for? Bipolarity and depression, anxiety, OCD, severe heartburn, even more intense nightmares, uhhh... maybe I'm forgetting others? Idk, man. I'm on too many. Have you ever had a bag stolen? No. What class from high school did you love the most? Art. What class did you hate the most? Economics. If you don’t have a car, do you wish you did? Not at this very moment, because it'd be useless as I don't currently drive. Have you ever had a job you loved? Nope. What, if anything, do you substitute for fries? I just eat normal fries when they're offered. Have you ever been in a building that was on fire? No. Have you ever written a poem for someone? At least twice. Have you been best friends with someone of a different race? Yes. Who’s the last person who cussed you out in anger? I think only my grandmother has done that. Who is the person you are closest to that you’ve meet online? Sara. Have you friended your parents on FB? Mom, yes, while Dad doesn't have one. What do you absolutely have to have to make your birthday feel special? My family. Mice or roaches? I love mice, but roaches creep me out. Have you ever received a gift and truly did not know what it was? Yes. A family friend is good at that. Is there anyone whose grave you visit? No. Do you like being in pictures? NO. Do you travel a lot? Not at all. Have you ever eaten a dog treat? No. I've eaten a guinea pig treat though, haha. And it wasn't awful. Have you ever wanted to get drunk and get your mind off everything? Yes, but turns out my alcohol tolerance is too high while only liking weak alcohol to begin with. Have you played cards recently? No. Is there a certain song you like to headbang to? I don't do that, I'd get way too dizzy, and besides, I don't want a headache. Anything you might be giving up on soon? I've been wondering if I should (for the most part) abandon human photography. I've lost so much passion for it, and besides, I feel like I'm going nowhere with it. I know I really, really shouldn't, though. Have you ever captured a moth? I put a caterpillar in one of those little plastic habitats once as a kid that grew into a moth. I then released it, of course. When was the last time you changed your picture on Facebook? It's been months. Do you have a really fat cat? No, he's healthy. Do your initials spell a word? No. Have you ever made a business card for yourself? No. Did you love playing hide and seek as a kid? Yes, that was my favorite! Are there any recipes you have memorized? No. Do you know your multiplication times tables? No. Do your parents allow you to have your privacy? Yes. Have you ever been severely burned? No. Did you ever dream that you had a baby? I've had many, actually. Guess with who. What was the weirdest thing you've ever seen cross the road? I want to say a turkey? Or maybe it was beside the road.

#survey #suveys #random questions #lyrics: ''boss's daughter'' by pop evil

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thesugarace · 4 years

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Alright

I finished HLITF season 1 for Kaga and I SWEAR TO ALL 12 ZODIAC GODS

VOLTAGE. PEAKED!!!! AT KAGA’S SEQUEL

THIS STORY IS AN ABSOLUTE

(Early warning: minor/major spoilers and a lot of rants/fangirling/thirst etc etc all bec I just absolutely love this story and I feel the need to share this love with everyone. Also, I keep seeing everyone hating on MC in this but I actually really liked her here and so I MUST defend her)

Okay

First of all look. loOK. LOOK AT THESE CGS!!!!

CAN YOU BELIEVE WE GET A HOT AND SEXY KAGA CG, A LITERALLY STEAMY ROMANTIC CG AND A BOMB AF STORY ALL FOR $3 EYE-

And oh my huedhaut dont even get me started on the story. It was absolutely on point. It has everything a HLITF story promises to have:

justice in the eyes of our straightlaced MC vs the PSD ✔️

Conflict btwn Kaga and MC precisely because of that ✔️

Our girl pulling a vanishing act bec she refused to compromise her values ✔️

the refusal of each side to back down and their love for each other TEARING THEM APART INSIDE ✔️

OUR GIRL SHOWING OFF HOW INSIGHTFUL SHE REALLY IS AND FINDING A SOLID AF LEAD ✔️

MC’S GROWTH in finding a somewhat compromise between her principles and what is required of her as a PSD detective ✔️

And of course, my absolute favourite: ANGSTY ANGSTY MY-WORLD-IS-ENDING-BECAUSE-MY-MC-IS-IN-DANGER-ANGSTY KAGA ✔️

Okay, I need to address the one thing that everyone just hates about this story en masse and it’s MC. Personally, I dont agree with her about the some parts, especially the interrogation because she did hinder an investigation and in law enforcement that is one big No-No but I do see where she’s coming from, especially with the surveillance thing and the whole copping out and literally running away to the countryside. I saw reviews abt her being completely naive but seriously, put yourself in the position of the one being spied. She’s so against it because to the suspect, what they’re doing could be harmful to him, especially so if he was innocent. I think as a person, she believes in the more publically-accepted justice - the kind of justice that everyone wants but is really very difficult to obtain.

And this is where we get to the beauty of this story. As per their MO, the PSD is ready to do whatever it takes to get the culprit even it means breaking the law. They’re desperate to get the culprit because people are actually getting hurt and the longer this guy gives them the slip, the more people are going to get hurt. Even in MSB, its been established that to the PSD, the end ALWAYS justify the means and they dont give a shit if they look like criminals for it. So this is where the conflict arises between MC and the PSD guys. For the PSD, there’s an opportunity where they might get the culprit but its illegal and for MC, what the PSD wants to do is too risky for something only based on suspicion; she wants to stay on the legal path but she has no lead whatsoever and time is not on either side. People dont seem to realise the weight of MC’s viewpoint and have a tendency to think of ‘officers doing something illegal’ as something as light as jaywalking or smt. No, these institutions have a wide reach and one misstep could bring harmful repercussions onto countless innocent people not to mention the implications of their actions on their integrity as an institution of the law and the integrity of the entire justice system. However, the PSD’s side is a lot more true to reality albeit in more complex situations: their duty beyond all else is to prevent crime and there are times when there really seems to be no way. I’ve been working in law for the past few years and this is a classic dilemma that has been simplified but quite well executed in this context. Justice is not as clear cut as the right way, the right end. The law may simply be black words on white paper but different circumstances dye it with their own colours. This is where MC is lacking. She’s like a freshman at law school - someone who truly believes in the importance of justice but actually has little idea what that actually entails. She is not entirely naive but more in a sense that she’s never been confronted with these kind of complex high-stakes situations (she worked in a police box before this for Ichthys’s sake) and that inexperience disables her from seeing and evaluating the entire situation from the PSD’s pov. For her, its like playing poker for the first time and she’s already betting with the million dollar chips.

The second thing I REALLY must defend her in is the whole quitting from the academy. For the love of Zyglavis, she did NOT run away just because Kaga told her she’s not suited for PSD, it was just the trigger. Lemme put it in a different scenario (btw this scenario is not meant to mirror the situation, its only meant to evoke how MC felt in the story) Imagine you live in a city and you and your significant other are living together. A pandemic has struck your city but everyone refuses to wear a mask and the government is even encouraging people not to wear a mask. You know that wearing a mask slows down the spread of the virus and you are trying to convince people to wear one but they just ignore you. The number of cases is dropping and people think its because they dont wear masks unlike other cities but you know that people should still wear masks or the numbers might spike. So you try to convince everyone to wear a mask and people start berating you for being so stupid as to believe that masks will slow down the spread of the virus when the numbers are dropping without the city wearing them. You go home and your significant other berates you for forcing other people to wear a mask and says ‘since you wanna wear a mask so badly, get out of my house and move out of town’ That’s what it felt like for MC: the absolute frustration + sadness from the rejection of what she truly believes in by the people she’s surrounded by. Time and time again in the story, she’s confronted with the fact that the justice she believes in is not the justice PSD serves. For someone who is working towards joining the PSD, that has to be killing her inside every time. It just serves as a reminder that she is not suited for PSD nor is she what PSD wants in a detective, something she has been struggling with since MS1 but she perseveres perhaps because of her dream to become a detective or because of her aspirations to someday be Kaga’s equal or at least be someone he considers he can rely on. I really believe it’s the second one, after all, it was his rejection of her that really broke her inside and finally convinced her to quit. That’s why if you buy the ending set, you’ll see in the extra stories that Kaga gets extremely angry AT HIMSELF that MC quit the academy. He knows that our persistent Kappa doesnt give up so easily, not even when he scolded her for ruining his interrogation. Its because all these factors built up and he was the one to push her over her limit. So yes, our girl is not fragile yall. She’s just been through so much and I honestly dont blame her for leaving like one order of R&R for our MC here, she deserves it thanks.

Okay, I need to end this soon cause its starting to get too long but what made me really love her here is the whole LIME thing. That part made love her so much because even when she quit on the academy, there’s still a fire inside her to do what it takes to achieve justice, even if it meant relying on the people she didnt agree with. Even when she was so broken inside believing that she’s not one of them, she’s not needed by them, she’s not worthy of helping them; she just wants to help!

IM SO FREAKING SOFT FOR HER BECAUSE THIS GIRL WHO HAS BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH IS STILL FIGHTING IN HER OWN WAY AND JKASHFHASKJHAKSHKJHGA BRB CRYING

ALSO

THAT BLOODY PHONE CALL OH MY FREAKING SCORPIO THAT PHONE CALL. I died when he told her that quitting is not an excuse to leave his side. THESE TWO EYE-

Okay, you have to read that phone call scene from both sides because then you’ll see how much these two are being stubborn because they still dont accept the other’s pov abt the case but at the same time how much they love and miss each other is gnawing at them inside AND THEYRE STRUGGLING TO HOLD ALL THOSE EMOTIONS BACK WHEN THEY HEAR EACH OTHERS’ VOICES OVER THE PHONE FREAKING KRIOFF TAKE THE WHEEL PLEASE

Anyways, I really enjoyed reading season 1 for Kaga, especially because of his MC - I see her actually growing from the small police box officer to a PSD cadet and the sequel, especially, shows promise in how she’s going to navigate the world of law enforcement and facing difficult choices. Our girl really decided to return to the academy without finding a proper middle ground between her values and what PSD requires of her but she showed determination to work on it so I really hope we get to see more of that in later seasons. Also, WHIPPED Kaga is my fav but soft Kaga is up there as well. MC SAYING HE SOUNDED SAD OVER THE PHONE AND HER TEARING UP I CANT. THESE TWO ARE BAD FOR MY HEART.

Okay, Im not sure what I’ll be reading next. I kinda wanna start on his season 2 but considering how amazing this season is for Kaga, Im really curious abt the other characters so I might start on them before starting any season 2s. Also, idk if I would make these long argumentative-ish essays a thing but just idk why, my brain is really good at spewing essays out when it comes to HLITF and I think its fuelled by the panic from all my unfinished work so yay

Thanks for reading!!!

#rediscovering hlitf #HLITF #Hyogo Kaga #seiji goto #hideki ishigami #ayumu shinonome #shusuke soma #her love in the force #voltage inc.#otome #voltage otome #voltage romance sims #voltage guys

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missjoker96 · 4 years

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Hello my lovely clown friends! :)

This is part two of "Arthur getting new medication"

I hope you guys like this story.

Enjoy it. ♡♡♡

It's Arthur's point of view.

The clown comes out to play

Disclaimer: mentall illness

I was half asleep and dreamed at the same time.

It was early in the afternoon.

After the passionate kiss of my beloved (Y/N) ended, we both became tired and layed down on our couch in the living room.

We cuddled up together and wanted to rest a little. It was peaceful to lay on the couch with the one you love. And to think about nothing like the world around you stand still.

I could hear her breath against my face and her heartbeat, because my hand was on her chest. Everything was perfect and nothing or nobody could disturb us. The only problem was my shadow, because he begged for coming out and I couldn't hide him anymore. It was too early to show (Y/N) my other self, but I couldn't wait anymore. Joker wouldn't wait longer, because he wasn't patient. I made (Y/N) curious and the result is to risk it and give her a look at my protector, the clown in red suit. Red has always been my favourite colour. My suit explains it and (Y/N) knew that. I could tell her anything, but I am always getting nervous when she looks at me with this curious face expression as if I hide something from her. I want to be honest with her and I have promised her that.

Suddenly I opened my eyes and looked at (Y/N). She looked so sweet and innocent during her slumber, but then I heard her whispering my name. This made me happy and I kissed her cheek.

"I love you, (Y/N)." I whispered into her ears and stroked her hair.

She smiled and opened her eyes. I hope I didn't wake her and smiled back at her.

"I love you too, Arthur." She kissed my lips and placed her hands on my cheeks. I loved it when she did that and began to play with my curls. (Y/N) loved it to play with my messy hair and I always giggled and enjoyed it. I could have continued like that, but then the final question came.

(Y/N) looked me in the eyes and asked me.

"Can you introduce me Joker?"

I heard him inside of me. He wished to come out and say hello to (Y/N). And I thought about the consequences, because he would take the over hand in the end. He was my shadow and created by childhood trauma. I couldn't ignore him. It was impossible. My eyes were fixed at her and I slowly answered.

"I can do that. He is already begging for freedom and I can't hold him back anymore. He is part of me, (Y/N)." I felt nervous again and this time it was worse. It was a sign to finally show her my dark side. After taking a deep breath I kissed her lips deeply and spoke those hard words.

"I am going to show you Joker now."

I couldn't believe what I've just said, but it had to be done. (Y/N) was glad and smiled at me in a sweet way. She stroked my cheeks again and said something that turned me on. Or better said it turned Joker on. "Then don't let him wait longer. Let him come out, Arthur. I am curious."

I smirked and could feel the presence of my shadow. The only missing parts were the suit, the make up and the hair dye.

"Give him about twenty minutes. Joker needs time to prepare himself for you, (Y/N)."

I could see the excited look in her eyes as I left and went into the bathroom. I locked up the door and got undressed until I only wore my underwear anymore. Then the transformation could begin. First I took the green hair dye and put it around my hair until my hair was covered green. I gave my hair and my head a soft massage to let the hair dye soak in. Of course I listened to music while I turned into Joker and it was nothing more than my favourite song That's Life from Frank Sinatra. I hummed the lines and danced around in the small bathroom.

"That's life.. That's what all the people say."

Once the hair dye soaked in, I washed it out and combed my hair back. I used hair gel to fix my stubborn curls and made my hair look shiny. The next step was the white face paint. I brushed it all over my face and a few parts of my neck too. Arthur slowly disappeared and the most important part came now. I painted blue triangles above and below my eyes and the left one longer than the right. I loved that part so much and continued with the wide red fake smile. This damn smirk. Every clown needed a red smile and a red nose, because this was the next step. I painted my nose red and two red eye brows above my blue triangles. My Joker make up was finished.

I grabbed my suit and put on my red pants, my green shirt, the yellow vest and the red jacket. I wore white socks to my brown shoes and felt not like Arthur anymore. He disappeared and Joker appeared. The clown was ready to introduce himself to (Y/N).

I turned the radio off and unlocked the door.

My body language fully changed as I entered the living room where (Y/N) read the latest newspaper.

I smirked widely and felt very confident and sexy.

Before I could say anything, (Y/N) fixed her eyes at me and looked kinda shocked and surprised at the same time. Did I scare her with my clown make up? She should be used to it, because of my Carnival make up.

Well, Carnival and Joker are two different clowns. Two different personalities, but always the same person behind the mask.

I kept my eyes at her and she stood up and covered her mouth with her hands.

"Oh my god! Is that really you, Arthur?"

She must have been shocked, because I have changed a lot with the make up, the hair dye and the red suit. My favourite part of this clown look.

I stepped closer and took out a red rose from behind my back. It was offered to my beautiful girlfriend and I smiled at her.

"It's Joker.. Please call me Joker!"

She looked at me from head to feet and noticed the red rose which I offered her and took it thankfully. She must have been speechless and didn't know what to say.

I decided to ask her.. "Is everything alright, (Y/N)?"

She smelled at the rose and looked into my green eyes. "Yes, Joker.. You are so handsome and sexy in your red suit. Thank you for the rose!"

I smirked and offered her my hand.

"May I take you outside for a walk, sweetheart?" I love to call her that, because she means everything to me. I might be Joker now, but I'm also Arthur. He hides behind the make up while Joker had his time and fun.

(Y/N) blushed and took my hand before she answered. "I would love to go out with you for a walk."

I could see the shyness in her eyes, but also the excitement. I wish I would feel confident with Arthur too, not only with Joker now. Sometimes you need to do the wrong thing to get things right.

"I am glad to hear that. Let's go then!" I leaded her towards the door and opened it for her. (Y/N) smiled and took my hand while we walked to the elevator.

I wasn't sure how she felt, but I was excited to go out with her in my full Joker mode. This was a sign for me that this could only mean the best or the worst, because people haven't seen Joker with a girl yet. They respected me as Joker, but not all. A few were against me and hated clowns. I touched my pockets and felt my gun and a knife. My weapons against my enemies. (Y/N) wouldn't be happy if she finds out that I'm carrying two dangerous weapons with me.

We left the building and Joker's adventures could begin..

"Are you ready to walk these streets of Gotham with Joker?" I asked (Y/N) and she smiled at me in a lovely way.

"Of course my handsome Joker. Show me this city!" She sounded excited as I thought and we both began to walk away from Anderson Ave. I felt so good and people noticed me. They saw me! Joker was visible.

My red suit was visible.

Good that I chosed red. It was always a good colour and my favourite one.

"I will show you everything I know my sweet (Y/N)." I would show her everything. And it would take the whole afternoon if not even more, but this was my time to let the clown play his games. (Y/N) looked at me and crossed her arm with mine which made me smirk again. My smirk was already big enough, because of the red face paint. I could feel a real smirk under the make up and this was truly beautiful.

"Was that a smirk under your make up?"

I heard her asking and agreed.

"Yes, it was a real smirk. I can't tell if it was Arthur's or Joker's smirk." I was joking, because I knew the real answer and (Y/N) knew it too. She laughed and patted my shoulder gently.

"This must have been a joke, right?"

She kept laughing and I joined her.

"Hahaha.. not at all, because I have a better one to tell. Would you like to hear it?"

(Y/N) shook her head and listened to me while we kept on walking. We have passed already the William Street and I saw people looking at me in a weird way. Didn't they know me? I have brought chaos to Gotham and those people looked at me as if I was the bad guy. I mean I became bad, because of society's fault. They want chaos and they got it.

But back to reality..

I was lost in the past for a moment, but (Y/N) took me back to the presence with a soft hand shake. She even asked me if I'm okay and looked at me.

"Joker?"

I suddenly blinked my eyes and answered her. "Yes?"

Her voice helped me to come back and I realized that I was hallucinating again, but from the past. The past of Joker's beginning.

This happened if I didn't take my meds.

"Is everything alright with you?"

(Y/N) looked worried at me and I had to find a good answer to make her believe me.

"I am fine, (Y/N). I was just thinking about a good joke, but I don't know a good one."

Too bad for Joker, because he usually know good jokes and began to laugh. It felt funny and I laughed very hard. People stared at me and I laughed.

"Hahahahahahahaha.. Hahahahahahahaha."

(Y/N) looked at me worried and took my hands. She squeezed them gently and waited until my laugh calmed down.

Once it was over, I breathed gently and smirked again. "Forgive me, but people stare in a weird way as if they have seen a walking dead zombie. A zombie, hahaha. A little invasion could do better for Gotham."

It was because they saw me. They saw Joker and I enjoyed it. At least I thought so until I heard a laugh. It came from the side and it was a young man. Did he laugh at me?

(Y/N) took my hand and told me to ignore them, because they were stupid if they laughed at me. I couldn't ignore that and anger grew inside of me.

"Why do you laugh at me?" I asked and fixed my eyes at him. He took a look at me and came closer. His friends were waiting and watching from a short distance.

"What's your problem, clown? I can laugh at whoever I want."

This guy didn't respect me as he should. I wasn't a fucking circus clown if he thought that. This angered me even more and I had to control myself.

"I have a problem with you, yes. You know who I am, right?" I made it worse with questioning this guy.

I felt sorry, because of (Y/N). She had to watch and listen how I argued with this respectless guy. He didn't look rich or poor and didn't wear a suit like some kind of business men. He simply looked like a man of middle class and about 30 years. Younger than me, but it didn't matter. I just wanted to know the reason why he laughed at me and then we would continued our own way, but he provoked me and this was his biggest mistake.

Finally he managed to answer my question.

"No, why should I know a freak in red suit? Did you escape from a circus, clown?" The guy laughed again and his friends joined him.

My patience was over and I wanted to scream into the air, so everybody could hear it. I didn't care if people watched me, because this was enough to wake Joker's dark side.

I grabbed my knife, because it was decent and didn't make loud noises like a gun. I carried both with me, but this time I chosed the knife. I hid it under my jacket and looked into the guy's eyes. He should know who I am before I hurt him.

"Ohh. You should know me. I am no circus clown. I am a freak with a knife, because you have just insulted Joker. Time to play a little, huh?" I smirked evily at him and held my knife against his neck.

(Y/N) noticed the knife and screamed.

"Joker! Don't do this. Please, I beg you."

She meant it good with me, but Joker took over hand and he was someone who should be respected or feared in the end. And I didn't listen to (Y/N). I listened to the music in my head and laughed very crazy.

"Hahahahaha.."

I pushed the knife into the guy's chest and he sank to the ground in front of my eyes. His friends couldn't believe what I have done and one called the police. The others were bothering my girl and I became mad. They even touched her and tried to hurt her, because I have punished this respectless guy. My eyes were fixed at them and I forgot to grab my knife again. It was covered with blood and I wanted to punish them too for bother (Y/N). Nobody was allowed to bother Joker's girl.

"Alright, I guess you both are next.. Get your dirty hands off from my girlfriend."

I threatened them with the bloody knife and wanted to protect my beloved one. She should see that Joker can protect her. And I could protect her, no matter what it costs.

But the fun ended as I heard a serious voice behind me..

Cops.. They found me!

I heard them talking seriously.

"Hands up and let your weapons fall."

The voice wasn't familiar to me. It wasn't Detective Garrity or Detective Burke.

It didn't matter. They got me and I couldn't run off like in past. What if they carried loaded guns? I couldn't risk that and looked at the two guys.

"You both will regret it sooner or later. Nobody should mess with Joker or his girlfriend."

They stared at me like (Y/N) and the cops grabbed my arms and hand cuffed me.

I have been arrested and could have escaped if I wanted. Joker has been arrested and his girlfriend had to watch how the cops took him away.

The cops looked at me and didn't say any word at first. Maybe they wanted me to talk first, but I only laughed. The thought of using my knife against a clown hater was a funny thought and the cops finally spoke.

"Stop laughing you freak!"

He leaded me into the police car and got into the driver side. The other one seemed to enjoy it and only laughed at his partner.

"He wants to laugh. Let's see how long he will laugh once he sits in a dark room."

How sweet. They thought it would bother me to be locked up in a dark room. I prefered the white room more, but I didn't care. My thoughts remained on (Y/N). What if she hated me now for doing such a stupid crime?

This was my biggest fear now and I kept my mouth closed the whole way to Arkham.

We arrived at the place where I felt safe.

Safer than at Appartment 8J.

If I told that (Y/N).. She would be sad to hear that and it hurt me.

Back at Arkham..

The cops grabbed my arms and took me into the building.

"Be a good clown or we have to teach you some manners." The voice belonged to one of the social workers here and I only smirked at the woman.

"My name is Joker.." I said and looked into her face with a wide smirk.

The woman rolled her eyes and pointed at the jail straight ahead.

"Bring him into the dark room and check his pockets. We can't trust this.. Joker!" She called me Joker.

I liked this woman already, but I couldn't forget (Y/N).

The cops leaded me to my room and took my gun from my pocket. It was my only weapon anymore, but who cared.

They locked me up and I was alone again.

I took a seat on the cold ground and thought about a funny joke.

My laugh set in again and it turned out to be a hysterical one. I laughed so hard that other prisoners knocked against the wall.

"Hahahahahaha.. Hahahahahaha.. Hahahahahaha.. Hahahahahaha.."

I put my hand on my throat and coughed to get some air to breath in.

"Shut up, freak!" They had no idea that they talked to the saviour of Gotham.

That wasn't the problem. I would escape from Arkham. They maybe thought that I'm a stupid clown, but I was clever.

I had my own ways to escape from an Asylum.

And then it was silent. Maybe I could have some peace. I layed down and tried to sleep, but it was hard for me. The time felt endless and I tried it with closing my eyes and force myself to fall asleep.

Impossible.

Finally I gave it up and stared at the locked door in front of my eyes.

What if someone comes and opens it in front of my eyes? It was my chance to escape and steal a gun from a cop. And then shoot him in his face. The perfect crime!

I would do that.

Suddenly someone unlocked the door.

I couldn't believe my eyes!

It was (Y/N).

"Hello Joker. I'm here to bring you out. We talk about everything later. Hurry up!"

She was sweet. Did she really come here to help me breaking out of Arkham?

She must truly love me.

"I knew you would come and help your Joker to escape from Arkham. I love you so much, (Y/N)." I wanted to kiss her, but she was faster and smirked.

"You were naughty, but I forgive you. Let's get you out of here. I gave them all a sleeping pill and they won't wake up the next hour."

I stared at her surprised and followed her out of the dark room and we both hurried to the exit.

We walked hand in hand out of Arkham as if nothing happened and ran through the city. Of course we took the way back to Anderson Ave and once we arrived, we continued to walk again.

I smirked at (Y/N) while she caught her breath.

"You are so fast. I had to do to follow you, Joker."

"That's something we both have in common. Arthur and I, but I have to thank you for saving me."

She looked at me in a way as if she wanted something else. I couldn't wait and pulled her into a deep passionate kiss.

I was glad that she accepted my kiss and put her fingers into my green curly hair.

This day was special, because (Y/N) helped me to escape from Arkham.

And I couldn't wait for the day where Joker saves his girlfriend...

#JokerFanfic #ArthurFleck #DCUniverse #ShortStory #Joker #Part2 #Request

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