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#i dont like reading on my laptop so i just stay away from that land
menacetosocietyy · 1 year
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dude you are literally one of my favorite blogs and your taste is fice is immaculate. PLEASE tell me any ao3 recs you have, i just made my account and i need more shit to read 😭
HWAT I DIDNT KNOW PEOPLE ACTUALLY ENJOYED ME ALDJEBXIW
I'm so sorry to report that I don't use ao3 bc it scares me on mobile. Too many buttons and options. I only use tumblr :'))
But thank you so so much!! I'll continue with reblogging all the things I enjoy reading and am not too ashamed to share!
I'll rb this with my fav fiction writers in a min bc there's a few lol
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The Last Dragon
Below the read more I've posted 7 very small sections of a fic that is based on this beautiful and tragic fanvid. I got literal chills watching it. If you wanna sob over our queen and her son wanting to avenge his mother, give it a watch.
I don't think I'll ever go any further, as my writing had an unfortunate run in with a brick wall, which then toppled over it and crushed any urge to write the next bit.
It's not too terrible--though it could actually be total shit, I'm not known for my writing 😂--and it was just gonna gather dust on my laptop, so figured I might as well post it. This was one of my ways of dealing with that fucked up last season within the framework of the show. I dont believe this is Dany's end, and I loathe with every fiber of my being what happened to her and her found family. And after seeing that video, the idea of Drogon doing everything he could to avenge the mother he loved more than anything appealed to that anger inside me. So I'll understand if this isnt for everyone ❤
Chapter 1
Mother.
He flies, great black wings carrying them away.
Mother.
Sharp, massive claws curl in gently. Protectively.
Mother is gone.
The cold creeps, burning against his scales the way fire never has.
Mother don’t leave.
A whisper on the wind calls to him.
Mother it hurts.
East, it sighs. It smells of smoke, and fire. Hope.
He follows, wings beating faster.
They took you.
The rage flares, searing away the cold.
They killed you.
The heat of it bursts within him, scaled skin shaking with the strength of it.
Fire and blood.
Jaws stretch wide, and the air burns red with grief.
▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪
Chapter 2
The sky bleeds red from the dying sun when Drogon reaches Volantis. The whisper that drew him there stops as he lands on an open balcony.
A woman stands before him, black hair and red robes flying up in the gust of wind from his wings. His claw gently opens, Mother’s cold body slowly sliding onto the hard stone.
Crimson, mournful eyes watch the red woman kneel by Mother, pale fingers hovering over her, not touching, for a long moment.
“I cannot bring her back, Drogon,” she murmurs, regretful.
He throws his head back, bellows fury and sadness into the sky. No, Mother, come back. I am alone.
A faint brush at the back of his mind--where Mother used to be, his brothers, the thoughts they shared together--grasps his attention. Makes him look back down at the red woman.
“I cannot give you back Daenerys Targaryen, but I can give you something else.”
His nostrils flair, and his head moves closer.
“I can give you the revenge you desire. As it stands, you may be able to raze the whole of the Seven Kingdoms, turn it all to ash, but that would not be what your mother wanted.”
Drogon growls, lips pulled up in a snarl. Sheep. All are sheep. Betrayed Mother. Killed Mother. No mercy.
She nods her head. Comprehends what he is unable to say out loud.
“Yes, they all betrayed Daenerys, took from her and killed her when her visions grew too great for their small minds. They could not grasp that the Mother of Dragons was above all a breaker of chains. She would have freed us all.”
She pauses, then continues, her voice hard. “They need to be punished. And they will be. But Daenerys’ dreams must be realized. Dragon’s Bay must remain free. The Dothraki cannot return to what they were, raping and pillaging. And the petty lords of Westeros must be laid low. Those who destroyed Daenerys must see their reigns come to an end not only by dragon fire, but by the unification of the people they have ground into the dust, unified against them.”
“A dragon has the power to do great things, but to lead men, to lead armies, that is the one thing you cannot do, Drogon. Not as you are. You must be more. And by the Lord of Light’s grace, you can become exactly what the people need.”
Drogon rumbles in frustration, steam billowing from between his sharp, clenched teeth. He doesn’t understand.
“Human, Drogon. You must become human.”
▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪
Chapter 3
They take Mother, to clean her, he is told. Remove the dagger, her clothes. Wash the blood away.
The red woman directs him to fly from the balcony, down into an open courtyard below. A large fire pit rages with a towering flame. It warms him, feels like Mother’s hand caressing his scales.
Dragons cannot cry. A mournful moan makes his great neck tremble. Human. Perhaps he can cry when he is human.
People in red robes enter the courtyard, one after another, until they circle around Drogon. His tail twitches. Their closeness agitates him.
The red woman appears, crossing the circle to stand in front of the fire. Hatred fills him when he sees what is in her hands. The dagger stained with Mother’s blood. Coward. The coward’s dagger.
“I am sorry Drogon. It is a necessary piece of the ritual. Soon,” she soothes, “you will have all you need to begin your campaign against the traitors.”
Another voice brushes against that same place in his mind. That lonely place where Mother, Rhaegal, and Viserion once lived. Soon, it too promises.
The red woman turns her head, scans the other acolytes before catching Drogon’s eyes.
“Let us begin.”
Voices hum together in chant, and the sky is filled with an agonized roar.
▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪
Chapter 4
Drogon.
He groans.
Drogon, my love.
Everything hurts.
You cannot sleep forever, my beautiful boy.
He moves his head slightly. Cringes at the sharp pain.
Wake up, Drogon.
Mother? Why does everything hurt so much?
It’s time.
The voice begins to fade. He reaches out a hand, slowly, to make it stay, and freezes. He has a hand. A human hand.
Fingers curl into his palm, and the nails scratch against his skin, bite into it. His legs scrape against the stone as he slowly stretches out one, then the other.
He can still feel the fire to the side of him; it feels heavier, pressing on his skin but it does not hurt his flesh.
What burns more painfully is the missing weight of his wings. No flight for him now.
Cold fingers brush his shoulder, curve sharply to hold him when he recoils.
“Drogon?”
He doesn’t like to be held, or touched, no one but Mother, and his brothers, but they are gone. Gone, gone, gone…
“Drogon! It is only me, Kinvara!” The voice finally penetrates, and he stops pulling away.
Allowing for her help, he rolls carefully onto his back. Sharp pebbles dig into his skin. No scales to protect him anymore.
He feels her fingers move to his face, tracing the human features. “Open your eyes Drogon. See what the Lord of Light has gifted to you.”
Gift? No gift. Just more pain. Weakness. But he opens his eyes. The fire from the pit is soothing, warm. Warmer than...before. Would it burn him? His hand flinches towards it but he’s not close enough to touch.
He turns his eyes toward Kinvara. She is smiling, eyes reflecting the fire’s light.
She waves a hand towards an acolyte. “Bring me a robe. We must cover our dragon prince.”
Red cloth is laid over him, and two other acolytes help Drogon to sit. They hold him up as the other wraps the robe around him more securely.
Drogon grits his teeth, blood rushing angry and hot.
He tries to talk, mouth struggling to form the human words. “W-We—” He growls, tries again. “W-Weak.”
“For now,” she says. “But you will grow stronger, I promise you.”
Drogon struggles to stay awake, but bone deep exhaustion pulls at him, and his frustration wanes as he slips into slumber.
▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪
Chapter 5
Four moons pass before Drogon is ready to set sail for Meereen. He was like a hatchling again, unsteady, vulnerable, and he hated it. Kinvara and her priests taught him the ways of his new body, how to eat and walk, to read their words.
Coarse fabric to wear instead of steely scales.
But now it is time. Time to search out Grey Worm. Daario. The Unsullied and Dothraki. Train with them and become stronger. Much stronger.
He knew how to fight as a dragon. Armies and castles were nothing against the heat of his fire. He must learn how to wage war as humans do.
Wrapped in a red cloak, hood hanging low over his face, Drogon is ready to begin.
▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪
Chapter 6
They are waiting for him at the dock after the sun has set, Grey Worm and Mother’s sellsword, two silent figures who do not move, do not speak until Drogon stands before them.
Daario breaks the silence first. “Drogon?”
He pulls back his hood, unnaturally crimson eyes in a human face flashing in the near dark.
Daario sucks in a breath, then huffs out a laugh. “If the red priests had not sent word ahead, I may not have believed it. But by the gods, here you stand.” He reaches out an arm for Drogon to clasp.
He does so, hesitantly, but with a firm grip. Human greetings still puzzle him.
Grey Worm steps closer then kneels, bows his head bowed, fist pressed against his chest. “Ñuha dārilaros. Bisy qringaomatan īlva dāria. Īlon emagon ossēntan se nāpāstre skoriot pōnta iōrtan (My prince. This one failed our Queen. We should have killed the traitors where they stood.).”
Drogon does not know if he is asking for forgiveness or absolution.
Dragons have no real concept of forgiveness. He should be angry the traitors were allowed to live. But Grey Worm is kin, as the little scribe had been. Mother’s old bear too, and the white-haired knight. Everyone who had been under Mother’s protection, had been under her children’s protection as well. And would continue to be.
“Rise, Grey Worm.” His voice is rough and sharp edged, and it seems to startle the two men to hear him speak. “Those that hurt Mother, that used her and took her life will be punished as they deserve. But I need your help. So rise. Let us repay them with fire and blood. For Mother. For Missandei. For them all.”
He holds out a hand, waits.
Grey Worm looks up, eyes bright with unshed tears. His lips tremble, then firm. He takes Drogon’s hand.
▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪
Chapter 7
They convene in Mother’s chambers, the map room he would never have been able to fit in before almost cavernous to him now.
Spread out around the table, the three men pull together a plan as they look down at the map.
First, they will weed out the opposition in Essos, solidify their hold in the east. Astapor, Yunkai, they will all come to heel, every slave freed. They would be as clever as Mother had been, keep the number of innocents lost as low as they could. Drogon would prefer to burn through the Good Masters, snap them up and tear them apart, but for Mother, he would be patient, and take the slower path. All the slavers would still die, and their victims would live, and live free.
But for what Drogon had planned, he needed steel in place of claws, armor instead of dragonhide. He needed Grey Worm and Daario to make him as fearsome as a human as he’d been as a dragon. And that would take time.
He ground his blunted teeth together; he hated waiting. Hated it. But let the traitors think they were safe for a while longer. It would be all the sweeter when he ripped that feeling of safety away, just as they ripped Mother away from him. His brothers. His home.
They would feel his pain. And then they would feel nothing at all.
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ressyfaerie · 3 years
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Dark Tyson fic; during G-Rev, Tyson snaps from stress and feelings of abandonment and joins Team BEGA. (Bonus points for Brooklyn getting close to Tyson to make Kai jealous. Black Dragoon optional, or maybe Boris gives him Black Dranzer...?!)
I saved the best for last. 
I am a big fan of dark Tyson- love it. I’ve been thinking of this prompt for DAYS. I’m very excited to write this- as you know I am the angst queen. For the sake of this fic, g-rev timelines are going to be confusingly switched around, just because it makes more sense for the fic, and also- I’ve forgotten some important plot points and dont have the time to rewatch g-rev LMAO. Anything in * can be Tyson’s or Kai’s private thoughts! 
So I finished writing this, and it's LONG. so I’ve actually uploaded it to archive first, because reading it on tumblr seems like a chore and a half, so here’s the archive link: 
https://archiveofourown.org/works/30739397/chapters/75866906
It came out to 50 pages, and it’s 5 chapters on archive. 
And here’s the first ‘chapter’ of the fic: 
So here we go:
It was odd to see Kenny angry. 
He tossed his laptop to the side, picking up spare bey parts in his hand. 
“Kenny! I’m just saying- What are our chances? Without everyone else, we’re useless as a team-”
“I’ve been working so hard Tyson…” Kenny shook in anger, beside him. Hilary tried to place her hand on his shoulder to comfort him, but he shook her off. 
“How could you say we’re useless?! When we’ve been trying so hard!?” 
“It’s not enough! You know me and Diachi can’t work together-” 
From the corner of the room, Diachi screeched, “Hey loser! I’m right here!” 
“I know, you shitty little cherry tomato!” 
Hilary tried to be the mediator, “Tyson, are you sure that’s how you really feel?” 
Tyson nodded, “Our team has no hope. Now with BEGA taking over everything we can’t even get any parts, it’s useless-” 
“How could you say that Tyson!” Kenny yelled louder than he ever had in his life, “You’re the one who’s supposed to be uplifting us! You’re the leader-” 
“I don’t want to be a leader! We had a leader remember? And a coach?” 
“You can’t give up!” Kenny begged and shook with anger, Tyson felt horrible, he knew Kenny had been working so hard, but they had lost too much, he felt there was no hope of recovery. 
“Throw out your research Kenny, we’re done.” Tyson stared at the wooden floorboards of the dojo, completely defeated. 
“AaaaH!” Kenny had launched himself forward- landing a strong right hook on Tyson’s cheek. 
Tyson fell backwards, landing on his side and quickly sitting up to rub his cheek, “What the hell Kenny!?” 
Kenny was furious, “you can throw away everything we’ve worked for if you want! Telling me to throw away *my* research?! You need to get yourself together Tyson!” 
Tyson was left speechless, Hilary nodded, agreeing with Kenny, “if we’re going to defeat BEGA we need a Tyson who can hold himself together.” 
“You’re heads messed up dude,” Diachi remarked, “We can’t work with you until you fix yourself.” 
Tyson could feel the anger radiate through his body, “if you guys think I’m so messed up then maybe I should just leave!?” 
“Then go.” Kenny hissed through clenched teeth. 
“Fine! Good luck with hopper-” Tyson slammed his hands on the floor throwing himself to his feet, “Your beyblade that fucking hops- Beyblades aren’t supposed to hop Kenny!” 
He slid open the shoji doors fast, and threw them closed, rattling the old dojo like an earthquake. Outside in the gardens, he cursed. 
“Tyson?” 
Hearing his grandpa’s voice behind him, he aggressively swung his body in his direction, “What is it Gramps? I’m not in the mood-” 
“What’s going on with you and your friends?” 
“Friends!?” Tyson spat. 
“Oh no... Tyson-” Ryu shook his head. 
“What? What is it? Is it something wrong with me?” Tyson’s whole body was stationary, emanating white anger.
“Your friends didn’t leave you to hurt you.” 
“Not my friends- Friends don’t betray each other to go to different teams.” 
“You *know* they didn’t betray you.” 
“Then tell me why Kai went to BEGA.” 
Grandpa stayed silent, he didn’t have a good reason why Kai went to BEGA, and no one knew why. 
“I’m sure like Max and Ray, he just wanted to fight you again.” 
“And Hiro?” 
“He wanted to train stronger opponents for you-” 
Tyson suddenly laughed, “he could have trained *me*.” 
Ryu placed his hands in front of him, trying to calm his grandson down from a distance. 
His Grandpa was more serious than he had been in years. 
“He could have- I know it wasn’t the best thing for Hiro to do, but- he did it because he loves you.” 
“Okay Grandpa, you have an answer for everything huh? Then answer me this- where’s my dad?” 
The garden turned ice cold. 
“I’m sure he’s around Tyson-”
“Does he not have a TV? Or a post office? How can he sit in some country, and not see what is happening to his own son!?” Tyson’s voice bellowed through the courtyard. 
“I don’t know Tyson- he loves you.” 
“No he doesn’t- It seems no one does-” Tyson was holding back angry sobs. 
Ryu took a step forward, “Tyson I-” 
“No!” Tyson screamed and threw his hand in front of him to keep him back, “stay away from me!” 
The doors to the dojo opened, no doubt his make-shift team coming to see the commotion. 
“You guys stay away from me too!” Tyson grasped his head and scratched his nails into his scalp, “Everyone just- stay away from me.” 
No one could say anything, Tyson glanced around at the quiet group, “what? Are you guys afraid of me now or something?” 
“Tyson, you need to calm down-” Ryu tried. 
“No? Don’t tell me to calm down!-” Tyson took a step backwards, trying desperately to flee the situation, then it occurred to him- he could. 
Tyson stared down the gravel beneath his feet, the world felt blurry, and in that moment his vision flashed red, he turned away running at full pace through the yard, and out the gates, flying down the street as he heard his only paternal figure and teammates calling for him. 
Down the road, over a bridge, along the ocean, towards the river. 
The sun was setting now, twilight was blanketing the world. 
At the top of the riverbank he began to head towards the river, not knowing why. He slipped on the smooth grass landing on his back and groaning in pain. 
He placed his hands over his face and cried. 
He sobbed for everything- everything he lost, his friend’s, his reputation, his spirit. 
He pulled himself off the grass and shoved his head in between his knees, still crying. Anger, sadness, regret, he felt it all at once. It was eating him from the inside out.
He let out a frustrated scream while jabbing his fingertips into his biceps, trying desperately to turn to dust, to become one with the earth. 
He didn’t hear the footsteps approach him. 
“I would ask if you’re okay- but I know the answer.” 
“Whoever you are- Just leave me alone- please.” Tyson buried his head further into his knees. 
He felt someone sit beside him, the grass crunched under their weight.
“Everyone’s left you.” 
“I know that-” Tyson could barely make out the words. 
“They left you for better teams, brighter pastures… You must think you’re not good enough for them.”
Tyson shook his head. 
“You are. You’re better than all of them, probably better than all of them combined.” 
 Those words made Tyson perk his head up, wondering who his savior tonight could possibly be. 
The purple hair stood out first, he wore a compassionate smile. 
Tyson locked eyes with his arch-enemy but made no effort to change his expression.
 “You’re allowed to be sad- and angry.” 
Tyson became more frustrated, *why is it out of everyone I know, the evilest person tells me what I need to hear?*
Boris had an interesting voice. Tyson tried to dissect the tone, but he could only detect… Affection. 
“What are you going to do now… World champion?”
Tyson felt his body go numb at the comment, so much was expected of him, but he had no way of accomplishing any of it. 
Tyson tried to inhale before answering, a cough got stuck in his throat, and he answered in a hoarse voice, “I’m not sure.” 
Boris continued smiling, he stared at the orange sun, just about to disappear under the horizon, “Do you want to show your friends how capable you are?” 
Tyon managed to hold his head up for a moment, he slowly nodded. 
“Good for you.” 
His words seemed to calm him down against his will. 
Tyson mumbled, “I won’t join BEGA.”  
“I’m not asking you to. But I do have everything you need to arm yourself. Parts, training rooms, places to sleep, all the food you could ask for” 
Tyson shook his head. 
“No strings attached. Come see my training facilities tonight, if you don’t want to be there, you can leave.”  
Tyson felt cold, the shadow of the setting sun crept over them, an ominous darkness crawled over his face, then Boris’. 
“Or would you rather go back to your home tonight?” 
Boris made a point. Tyson had no intention of going home tonight, but he had nowhere to stay. 
His eyes darted back and forth, deep in thought. 
Boris pushed himself off the ground and stepped to the top of the hill. 
On the road next to them, a fancy car.  
The purple-haired man opened the passenger door and gestured with his hand. Tyson gave him a blank stare. 
“Come on, world champ.” He emphasized the last words just right- reminding Tyson how much was on his back, “what’ll it be?” 
Tyson’s brain wasn’t working, logical thought was too much to process. What he did know was- he didn’t want to sit on this riverbank crying the rest of the night. 
Boris waited, for minutes, holding the door open. 
Tyson sniffed, he rubbed his nose with his forearm, crawled to his knees, and pushed himself off the ground. 
“Good job, champion.” Boris grinned, giving him the unnecessary compliment. 
Tyon was beside him now, he rested his fingertips on the top of the car door, feeling the cold black metal under his nails. 
“It’ll be warmer inside when I turn on the heat,” Boris reassured Tyson, inspecting his skin, covered in goosebumps from the cold.
“O...kay…” 
Tyson crawled into the passenger seat weakly.
He did turn on the heat. The heated seats warmed Tyson’s whole body. He watched the street lamps roll past as he hunched into the leather. 
Boris drove like an old man- but also a maniac. Driving the speed limit, but taking turns at the same speed. 
The BEGA building towered over the whole city. They pulled into a parking garage, the gates rose with Boris’ presence. 
After parking in a special stall, Boris turned off the car and climbed out, he walked to Tyson’s side opening the door for him. Tyson didn’t have the energy to complain that he could have done it himself, and instead, followed the older man to a specific elevator. 
They rode the elevator in silence.
When the door opened, Boris walked ahead, Tyson followed cautiously. 
Inside another heavy metal door was darkness, Boris flicked a switch and the lights invaded the room. 
The room was filled with dirt and boulders, in the center, a beydish carved into the earth. 
 “This room was made to be destroyed,” Boris explained. 
Tyson pushed his hands into his pocket, caressing Dragoon with his hand. 
“You’re welcome to destroy it- if you’d like.” 
Tyson still felt emotion linger in his chest, the frustration was killing him, it was a tempting offer, but he knew if he wrecked his blade in the process, he had no way of fixing it. 
“I’m not recording, I’m not analyzing you, I’ll just step back. You do what you need to do.” 
Tyson pulled out his launcher and loaded Dragoon, he directed his launch to a rock.
“AAAUUGH!” Tyson roared as he put all his anger into letting go. 
Dragoon split the rock clean through with ease, the two halves crashing to the ground. 
Tyson continued to scream and throw his hands giving Dragoons orders at a lighting pace. The room was soon covered in dust from the obliterated rocks, while sand rolled over the floor. 
Tyson was holding his chest, trying to get air into his lungs with fast painful breaths, he realized the amount of air he needed wasn’t arriving, so he continued to destroy the room. 
After all the rocks were annihilated, he fell to his knees. He was out of tears, his eyes were wide open. As he witnessed the destroyed room under his body, Boris began to clap. 
“Bravo! Amazing, spectacular! A performance only one person in the whole world could accomplish!” 
Dragoon obediently arrived at Tyson’s knees, he picked him up and inspected him. 
*Trashed. I’m sorry Dragoon.*
He shoved him safely back into his pocket. 
“Fantastic job, Tyson.” Boris was in front of him now, holding out his hand to help him up. 
Tyson wanted to refuse, but his legs were like jelly, he grasped his hand using it as his crutch. 
“You must be thirsty after a performance like that! Come- I have a room prepared.” 
Tyson found himself in an extremely fancy penthouse. Extravagant food was laid out on a table with every kind of drink next to it. 
Boris had gestured to a couch telling him to sit down, when he did, the soft plush absorbed him. The comfort felt amazing on his aching muscles. 
“What do you want to drink, champion?” Boris popped open a wine bottle and poured himself a glass. 
Tyson watched him cautiously, he had never seen an adult drink alcohol so casually in front of him- he was underage after all. 
“Do you want some of this?” Boris gestured to his crystal glass and grinned. 
“No- Just water, thanks.” 
“Any food?” Boris asked as he handed him a glass of cold water from the table. 
Tyson accepted it and began to drink, he stopped for a moment, “not hungry.” 
“You’ve been through a lot tonight, that’s understandable.”
Tyson took another worried sip, “Yeah.” Tyson’s eyes darted side to side.
“You must be wondering about the room?” 
“Is this your place?” Tyson took a good look at the penthouse this time. 
“Actually, it was supposed to be yours, when I finally convinced you to join BEGA, but-” Boris took a sip of his wine, “it seems like that just isn’t going to happen.” 
Tyson felt a wave of exhaustion fall over him. He felt like he had been hit by a truck. 
“Let me show you around,” Boris suggested. 
Tyson decided to follow, he needed to get off the couch before he fell asleep. 
He showed him the kitchen, balcony, hot tub, fireplace, and finally the bedroom. 
“King Size bed, very comfortable, you can lay down if you want.” 
Tyson could sense his eyes closing, it had been a long day, he had never felt this tired, even after training all night. 
Boris sat on the edge of the bed, patting the spot beside him. Without questioning, Tyson was sitting beside him too. 
“It’s okay to rest sometimes. Have you ever seen a champion win on fumes?” 
“I have.” Tyson tried to grin, but failed. 
“Go to sleep Tyson.” 
“No- not here.” 
Boris took his empty water glass out of his hand- he gently pushed his shoulder, Tyson collapsed backwards into the bed. 
“Sleep.”
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jordanlahey · 4 years
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“A Blast from the Past...” (2/?)
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Pairing: Poly!lost boys x Reader
Summary: The boys feast and chase downs local witch coven and it didn’t work out in their favour. Home was home but at the same time it wasn’t.
Warnings: language, innuendos
Word count: 1761
A/N: sorry it too so long I’m just catching up on fics now. Also can we appreciate this gif of Paul and Dwayne? 😍
"So you're telling me you are really from 1987 and some witch got mad at you and you came here is a cloud of red?" I repeated what david had told me, trying to make sense of it all, it didn't quite seem real but then again they are vampires and I have powers so what even is real anymore? I stay quiet trying to think of something anything.
"Don't forget we ate the witches whole coven." Paul chimed in, he seemed to be so proud about it but he just seems like a happy-go-lucky guy.
"What if I could help you find a way to get back? I'm not sure if I really count myself a witch per se but I can try find something?" I suggest, it's not the best idea but it's worth a shot. The boys all looked at each other seeming like they were having a silent conversation between the four of them.
"What's in it for you? Why do you want to help?" David lit another cigarette, blowing the smoke out as he leaned back into his chair. If was a fair question, what is in it for me? Nothing I'm just trying to help but was there really a need for me to answer?
"I can't think of anything at the top of my head. I mean while you are all sleeping during the day I can do something to keep unwanted visitors away so that another incident like earlier doesn't happen again?" Another silence in the room, I could sense that they were uncomfortable talking about anything in front of me considering we had just met, I would be uncomfortable spilling anything if I couldn't trust someone. I pull out my phone to heck the time it was nearly 5am and the sky was starting to brighten.
"Hey what's this thing?" My phone was snatched out of my hands by Paul as he eyed my phone, Shaking it, tapping it and putting it up to his mouth trying to talk to it like a walkie talkie.
"Hey give that back!" I jump to my feet and try to get it from him but he holds it above me so that I can't reach it. "Paul give it back!" He threw my phone to Marko as he did the same, I ran towards him then he flew up into the sky "that's not fair! Marko please!" I could tell David and Dwayne were amused buy this as I run between the two blonds.
It went on for a good few minutes however, Paul had landed in front of the entrance to the cave and the sun was just away to illuminate the cave. "Paul! Look out!" I run towards him again this time knocking him out the way of the sun rays, the rest of the boys hid where the rays wouldn't effect them but they were still in the same area as you and Paul. In other circumstances I wouldn't have been awkward at all but since I'm lying on top of the blond vampire it was more that awkward. Paul looked at me and wiggles his eyebrows at me causing me to roll my eyes at him and go try and get off of him.
"You're welcome for saving your ass being turned into a pile of ash." I huffed "now go, dont worry I'll keep anyone out of here in the mean time." With that they all crawled into a dark hole which I assumed their own sleeping space. If I'm being honest I hadn't even slept yet, I'm sure they wouldn't mind if I napped on the sofa? I would go to the small bed that I mentioned earlier but they tensed when I spoke about it.
Before I head off to sleep a cast a small little protection barrier to keep people out if they were to come near it would just look like a massive rock on the outside. I cuddle up on the sofa and slowly drift off to sleep.
*****
I slowly awoke from my meant to be nap and I check my phone for the time I knew the boys weren't going to be awake since the sun was still up. It's 1:30pm I  some had time to kill, I did plan on going home and getting something to eat maybe charge my phone for a little while before coming back and trying to think of a solution to sending the vamps back to their time. If I'm heading out I'll leave the little barrier up cause if I break my word they'll have my head for sure.
I headed to my home and greet my grandmother but she seems to be with a client at the moment so I leave her be and head up to my room to grab my computer and some spell books. I know it's cliche. My grandmother and I run a smoll café shop near the boardwalk, as well as a place to eat it's also a place for visitors or open minded people to come get a reading etc and we even sell small things like crystals, sage, candles etc all the good witchy stuff.
"Y/n, you were out late I didn't hear you come in." My grandmother startled me, I sigh in relief.
"I stayed at a friends house sorry about that, hey you may be able to help me." My grandmother looked at me and smiled. "How does time travel work? Are there any spells for it?" I chew the bottom of my lip, hoping she won't as me about why I'm asking her this to be honest she's smart and she knows all kinds of magic. However, she looked at me sympathetically.
"Oh honey, I know what this is about." Now I'm the one confused. "You want to time travel to stop what happened to your parents I know, but you can't change the past and if you do then you'll have to sacrifice something in return and suffer the consequences." She was way off I know this already i can't change the past but I need to send the boys back to their time, thats the same as time travel right?
"What about spells to send people back in time. Like to their time?" This stuff is confusing as heck.
"Why would you want to know something like that, honey?"
"I...it's for a book I'm writing about spells, I'm just curious." I am a terrible liar and she can see right through me. "Grandma, you are the smartest witch I know please tell me." She looked at me and I could see the cogs turning in her head if I wanted to I could tap into her mind as see what she knows.
"That isn't going to work sweetie, a witch always has a block on her mind so that no other beings can read them and I'm terribly sorry but there is no spell for that and there never has been." With that she leaves my room back down to the shop where she probably has customers waiting. I sigh in annoying. Bullshit. If there was no spell then how did the vamps get here there is always a counterspell. Nothing is ever permanent.
I finish grabbing all the books and my laptop then head downstairs to go back to the cave, it's 3:15pm the sun doesn't go down till 7ish this gave you roughly 4 hours to find a solution or do something else but you'd rather head back to the cave and keep watch there's no doubt gonna be some people poking around there and you have the best job in the world. Being a guard dog for a bunch of vampires.
Back at the cave you, sat down on 'David's' chair and proceeded to look through all the books you had about magic and spells, there had to be something here. Your nose was too buried in the books you failed to notice how quick time went by and still no sign of a counter-spell. Your book was snatched from your hands, startling you and you tried to calm your breathing as Paul flipped through the book and turning it every which way to understand the text. Which was stupid it was in perfect English probably words he isn't familiar with god bless.
"How long have you been reading the Mumbo jumbo? It's basically snoozefest." He tossed the book on the ground near the others and went flicking the through them all.
"I wouldn't expect you to understand and I've been looking through them for 3 hours maybe?" You answered, picking up the book you were trying to read.
"Really that eager to get rid of us?" Your eyes shot you the platinum blonde, he smirked at you as he walked towards you causing you to walk back into the wall.
"N-no." You swallowed thickly. "Last time I checked you wanted to go back home." You tried to rid your voice of any insecurity, probably failing miserably. David leaned closer to you.
"Last time I told you that's my seat." He stepped away from you and sat in HIS seat.
"It's not like you were using it." You huffed and muttered under your breath, this made him smirk more. "Paul could you stop tossing my books around please."
"I'm bored." Paul whined then latched himself onto you then Marko joined in.
"Let's have some fun, ayy Paul?" You looked between the two blondes as the face you a smirk and you broke out of their grips.
"Woah woahh woahh! And Don't look at me like that." You warned as you backed away from the group of vampires.
"Like what?" Marko pouted, you mentally cursed yourself and huffed.
"I'm not food! I probably don't taste good anyway so no biting I mean it." You warn again mostly at the two blondes who were sharing knowing glances.
"How would we know if you taste bad if we don't try it." You backed away from the boys then ran behind dwayne who was just watching, using him as a shield from the 2 blondes. "Like he's gonna help."
"Stay back! I have a Dwayne and I'm not afraid to use him!" This caused the boys to erupt with laughter.
"You're adorable." Marko laughed, you pouted and rolled your eyes.
"Come on you four, I bet you are all hungry anyway let's find you something to eat." You nod time the exit of the cave.
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hansolmates · 5 years
Text
vernon; blossomed (m)
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feat. tattoo artist!vern x flower shop fem!reader based on nonnie’s big brain
genre/warnings: flangst, lang, wild generalizations of how tattooing works, gratuitous love for side characters, mild drinking, phineas and ferb references, mild foreplay
word count: 12k
Vernon called you his Rose. 
Not exactly his Rose, because you were definitely not anyone’s property and he wanted to give you nothing but your full autonomy, but it’s because he’s never had the chance to ask for your real name. 
But when he first spotted you in the little lavender and honey colored flower shop across the street, you were tending to the rose bushes at the front entrance. You were cutting roses and you didn’t look utterly graceful, in fact you stabbed yourself more than once with the thorns. He couldn’t help but laugh when you laughed when your co-worker had to hand you a new bandage every minute. 
He decided then that he liked you, even if it’s not wholly sexual or romantic, he liked you. 
Or maybe he just liked the idea of you, the way you’d lounge around in the canopy swing with your boots tucked under the seat, fluffy yellow socks wiggling out in the sun. Sometimes you’d read a book, sometimes for well over an hour. He liked how you soaked up the heat and created your own little world, happily unproductive. 
It was only a seven meter walk from the flower shop to the tattoo parlor, but the view from his front window required zero walking distance and a sure-fire lack of ever bumping into you. 
“Vernie’s got a crush on the Flower Girl,” Yoongi sing-songed, chugging along a box full of random-ass materials that Vernon was supposed to clean in the morning. 
Vernon scowled, and swatted away the older one’s hand when it dived in front of his face. 
Yoongi whistled like he was an old-time animation, singing the day away. “Vernie’s stalking his crush.” 
“I’m not stalking,” Vernon snapped, swiveling around in his rolling chair. “that involves shit like literally following her around,  photography, I dunno, being a weirdo?” 
“You definitely qualify for one of those.” Yoongi replied tartly, and he fought the urge to grin when Vernon finally turned back to the window, only to narrowly miss your form. The swing was now unoccupied, the only thing remnant were your working boots lined up against the entrance. “It’s been what, two weeks? Just ask her out already.” 
“You think I would’ve done that by now if there wasn’t a reason why?“ 
Soooo you were dating someone. Some super tall, super handsome guy would stroll up to the flower shop every morning, coffee in hand. Before you’d take your proffered coffee, he’d pucker his lips for a good-morning kiss in repayment. Vernon looked back to Yoongi, who was staring right back at him and confirming his suspicions that yes he was being a fucking weirdo for paying attention to things like that. 
Yoongi pressed his lips together, puffing his cheeks out in slight irritation. “So you’re stalking a taken girl,” he whistled lowly, “should I regret hiring you?” 
“Not funny.” 
“As repayment for effectively creeping me out,” The older one slipped his hand into his electric yellow windbreaker to twirl Vernon a ring of keys. “You’re closin’ up for tonight.” 
The brunette’s jaw dropped to his lap, and he got up from his spot by the window. “What? What happened to Minghao?” 
“Sick,” Yoongi shrugged. 
Closing up meant that Vernon had to stay until 12AM, at the very least. The area was off a college town and that meant a lot of young lucrative artists would stop by pretty late, hence the closing time. Usually Yoongi and Minghao were the night owls, but tonight Minghao was supposed to fly solo because Yoongi landed a last-minute recording gig. “C’mon, can I at least close early?” Vernon whined, “it’s summer. No one’s here.” 
“What, ya gotta date or something?” Yoongi smirked, swinging the entrance open. Halfway out the door, he added loftily, “don’t forget to water Patricia. It’s been two weeks.” 
The door slammed and Vernon was left alone. He spared a glance at the window, only to see that your boots were now gone from the patio and only one light was on in the shop. Vernon turned to his company for the night, their jade succulent, aptly named Patricia Planty. 
With Patricia Planty watered and a stomach full of Wendy’s nuggets in his body, Vernon busied himself up for a grueling five hours. Thankfully he brought in his laptop, as if he were expecting Yoongi to pull a fast one on him tonight. He drew some random things on his tablet: rockets, stars, the occasional squirrel, and roses. When he was tired of drawing, he’d blast the speakers off the joint and mess around with some of his music programming. When he was tired of doing both, he’d vegetate on the couch and read Reddit articles. 
It was past eleven when the first customer of the night stumbled in. Vernon fought the urge to groan, putting down the pen of his tablet on a particularly intricate constellation. 
“We’re closed!” He yelled through the office door. A white lie, but who would know? 
“Google said you were open until 12!” A voice yelled back, sounding slightly strained. 
Crap. Vernon lowered the volume and pushed away the swivel chair, swinging the office door open. With a rough clear of his throat and hoping not to look like too much of a jerk, he faced his customer, “Welcome to Nu ABO—” 
It was you. Cheeks ruddied, and your eyes glassed with a fresh glaze of tears. Your lower lip worried into a wobbly frown. Vernon’s Reebok’s glued to the concrete of the parlor, effectively stopping him in his tracks. The smell of mulch and a mixture of flowers penetrated his nostrils, but it did nothing to distract the utter hurt etched on your face. 
“Um, hey,”  his voice was gentle, yet unsure. “What are you doing here?” 
You just looked at him, incredulous. Vernon could have sworn he saw your left eyebrow twitch. Of course, you’ve never met him in your entire life, yet Vernon felt like he knew you since the beginning of your summer work. “Gettin’ a tattoo.” You replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, rubbing away a stray tear. 
He didn’t want to say it, but Vernon sighed and reasoned, “But it’s just that, ya kinda look—” 
You brushed past him, going straight into the artist room and plopping on the worn leather chair meant for customers. It was still high up because Vernon was cleaning the underside of the metal, so you had to do a little hop to get on. “I don’t care what kind of design. I looked up your Yelp online and everything looked pretty good.” And you then proceeded to unbutton the top of your blouse. 
“Holy shit,” he bounded over to you, grappling his fingers between your shirt before you could undo the rest of it. His breath was probably hot and heavy, compared to yours which was fresh from the cool summer air. Your faces were so close, closer than he ever fathomed. He didn’t think you two would meet this early in the year, as he was emotionally preparing to visit your flower shop at the end of the month, making up some spiel on how he needed to purchase real roses to replicate a commission. Not now. Now was a spontaneous episode, where he was trying to refasten your shirt and ignore the petal pink lace of your bra baiting his eyes. 
When he sensed that you would in fact, stop taking your shirt off, he backed up. “It’s just that, after eleven we don’t really apply tattoos. We just take consultations.” He tried to sound defeated, rubbing the back of his neck. Again, another lie. But Vernon wasn’t about to ink you on the spot, especially when you looked like this. 
“Is it because I’m upset?” You cried, “because I assure you, I’m in the right mind!” 
He winced, lolling his head back and forth. “That’s debatable.” 
You frowned, “C’mon, I have money. Just do me this one solid.” 
“What? No, you don’t even know what you want!” Vernon was exasperated. Not that he imagined the first time meeting you would be a walk in the park, but at the same time he wasn’t expecting to argue with you. 
"Don’t you want to be part of my spontaneous young life? Give me a tattoo that I’ll think about with my children 30 years from now?” He would laugh if you didn’t look like you were crying a river ten minutes ago. “As long as it’s not a tramp stamp, because I don’t think I can pull that off—" 
"Did you break up with your boyfriend or something?” Vernon blurted out before he could regret it. 
Your face morphed into something Vernon couldn’t understand. Pain, for sure. But a sort of relief knowing that you didn’t have to hide it. “Damn,” you give him a tired smile, “does the whole town know or something?" 
You cried again. This time, Vernon reacted quicker. Pulling out a Wendy’s napkin from his flannel pocket, he proffered it to you. He was thankful you didn’t question whether it was clean or not (it was!) and you proceeded to cover your snot and tears all over it. 
"Do you wanna talk about it?" 
You sniffled and blew a particularly large chunk of snot before you shook your head. 
"Do you… want fries?” He gestured to the small table in the room, which had some leftover fries from his combo. “I can heat ‘em up in the microwave." 
Due to the fact that you ran out of tissue room, you rubbed your face with the entirety of your sleeve. You peeked out mid-rub, and replied with a soft, "hell yeah I do." 
His heart twitched. Even betwixt your teary expression, you were so freakin’ cute. He shuffled back to the office, nuking the leftovers in the microwave until they were piping hot. Vernon waited a bit for them to get cool, and fiddled with the music so a soft R&B playlist bounced off the walls. He couldn’t believe you were here. Scratch that, he could, because you were bound to run into him one day due to pure proximity. 
But he didn’t imagine you’d be plopped in his artist room at 11:32, bleary eyed and shoving potatoes in your mouth. 
Vernon busied himself with his phone, and typed a hasty you wouldn’t believe what just happened… to the employee group chat. 
[June 11, 11:33PM]
Bo$$ man: dont tell me u put aluminum in the microwave AGAIN
Hao hao: the chinese mafia came for me, didnt they? good thing I called out 
Jeonghan is a prick: use your resources! sharp items are everywhere :) emergency money is under Patricia’s table
Bernie: tf is wrong w all of you 
Bernie: SHES HEREEEEEE
"M'sorry,” you mumbled with a mouthful of fries, breaking Vernon from his mid-text crisis. He felt his phone buzzing like hell as he shoved it in his pocket, but ignored it for the sake of you. Your previous high of emotions has long worn off, and now you were looking a little embarrassed as you fixed your gaze on the empty container of fries. Your face is blotchy and red, and you’re especially puffy due to the salt you just consumed. “I should go home." 
He didn’t want to be intrusive, but the look on your face showed it was clear that you didn’t want to go home just yet. Drumming his fingers against the metal table, he casually suggested, "Why don’t I do your back?" 
You looked at him like he was crazy. "You still wanna tattoo me? After I cried like an idiot and ate your fries?" 
"You’re not an idiot for being upset. And I offered you my fries.” He pulled out an ink canister, and a thin needle. “This is temporary ink we use to practice, or for customers who wanna test out the look. Lasts one to two weeks. And y'know, it’s a nice distraction." 
You looked skeptical, unsure of his kindness. "Why my back?" 
He shrugged, "It’s the biggest canvas. And if you don’t like it, you don’t have to look at it." 
Still, you’re not convinced. There was something strange about him, something almost too sweet. While your schema may be marred by television and movies, the man in front of you didn’t seem like he quite fit into this little shack. He’s full of color, in his eyes and in his stature, his words clean and pure as he tries to soothe your aching heart. And as much as you tried not to check him out, you spotted no tattoos on any viewable part of his body. 
"And it’s kind of cathartic, really.” He watched your lips quirk up in a smile at the word usage. Not only sweet, but probably smart. Your first smile all night. Cheeks effortlessly heated, he continued, “you kinda just let go into the feeling. And it’s always fun to not know what’s been drawn until the very end." 
You’re curious. There’s excitement in your vision as he gestured to the available cot, inviting you. "Alright. Ink me up." 
Vernon grinned, and started preparing the workspace. Handing you a medical gown, he quickly shuffled away to prepare the ink and needles. He didn’t really work with the clients as deeply as this, he was really just a glorified secretary that took care of the consultation. While he washed his hands, he heard the faint rustle of fabric, definitely your shirt and bra. He turned up the temperature of the water, acutely aware of how hot his hands were getting. 
"Um,” your voice is muffled from being pressed up against the cot, your face presumably propped with pillows. “So are you Yoongi?" 
"Nah, I’m Vernon.” He wheeled over a cart full of supplies, the metal clanging against the concrete. “’M usually the guy who wipes the sweat off his brow." 
You hummed your own name in response, resting your cheek in the plushness of the cotton pillow. There’s a number of sounds paired with the R&B in the background. The smack of Vernon putting on gloves, the click of the needles and the slickness of the balm Vernon has applied on your back. His touch was warm, as his palm crescents across your back to soothe the balm into your skin. He then wiped it down with a paper towel until your skin was smooth and dry. 
"Any ideas yet?” He asked, and from the corner of your eye you see him switch out a needle for a new ink pen. 
“Maybe, stars?” Your voice is muffled against the cushions, as you’re hugging them close to your body. “And maybe something inspired by Spiderman? I liked that new one with Miles, he’s a cool one." 
You could hear the smile in his voice, "I liked that one, too." 
You stuff your own smile in your pillow, how embarrassing could it be that this stranger can make you feel better so fast? Mingyu would be groveling if he saw you now, topless, letting a man ink you up in however way he wished. "Will it hurt?" 
He chuckled at that, "Nah. The ink will sit on top and sink in, I barely have to apply any pressure. Just relax." 
Under the discretion of Vernon, who offered you fries and liked Spiderman, you relaxed. The first stroke of the needle and you were a goner. You closed your eyes and let him do his thing, You couldn’t tell what exactly was going on through his mind as he was painting your back, but you could tell his art was rather cacophonous: stiff pokes here and there, smooth strokes, and wide breaths of ink staining your back. The ink melted into your skin, bonding to your cells under Vernon’s careful control. 
It was almost 1AM when he finished. He tapped your back, urging you up. Tired, and slightly dazed, you sat up. You realized a little too late that you’re only wearing a thin hospital gown, the straps having fallen midway through the process. The air was cool against your skin. 
Vernon totally would’ve gotten a complete view of your sideboob if he wasn’t blushing like a maniac and looking away, and you respected that. His arm is punched out, fisting your button down. You hastily snatched it away, and turned around in order to look decent. 
“The ink won’t show up fully for another six hours, so until then let me know how you like it.” 
“Thank you so much,” you smiled gratefully as you do the last button of your blouse, and pulled out your phone. “Do you accept Venmo or Cashapp?” 
“Oh, yeah.” He accepted the proffered device, and put in the necessary charges. 
Once he gave back your phone, you added a sizable tip to the price he typed up. “The time really flew by,” you noted the time on the corner of your phone, 1:07. “It was really, an experience like you said.” 
He shrugged, and threw you an easy smile. “I try.” 
"Can I get a real tattoo from you someday? Y'know, when I’m ready?" 
"Ah, no. I’m not really under the apprenticeship.” He looked bashful when he said it, as if he were caught doing something wrong. “I just work here for the part time money. I do art on the side, though.” 
You had the urge to ask what he doesn’t do on the side, but it was late and you were probably holding up the poor guy for your trivial questions. “Regardless, I’m still thankful it was you that did this for me.” 
In three strides, he opened the small door for you. “My pleasure. Have a good night. Or, morning. Or if you’re one of those people who don’t consider it morning unless it’s light out, then good night?” 
“Good night,” you giggled, “get home safely.” 
“You too.” 
The screen door slammed shut behind you, along with the main door. Your car is parked in the grass patching of the flower shop. You jogged over, and the summer air made you shiver, your back still raw and warm under Vernon’s touch. 
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You couldn’t wait until the flower shop closed. 
If Wonwoo noticed that you moved the porch swing relative to the placement of Nu ABO, he hasn’t brought it up. You weren’t spying on Vernon, no. But your skin was starting to itch with curiosity and in your haste to leave last night, you didn’t even ask what he designed on your back. 
“Are you stalking the tattoo guy?” 
Despite the voice being petal soft, you flinched. Assistant Manager Joshua Hong with a bouquet of boat lilies, was accusing you of stalking. His Converse tapped rhythmically against the wood paneling, looking down at you like a guilty child.  
“What?” you floundered, waving around the florist magazine in your hands. “Josh, I’m studying! And the sun was in my face so I moved the swing.” 
“You’re studying,” Joshua flickered his eyes to the run down shack across the road. “The tattoo guy?” 
“I already said I wasn’t!” 
“Then you’re telling me you spent all last night doing that,” he reached over to tug at your starched work collar, “all by yourself?” 
Your hand flew to your neck, as if you were trying to hide Vernon’s hard work. “I just wanna see what he did, all right? And I’m trying to be very patient until closing because if Wonwoo sees me going there,” you jerked a head none-too-gracefully at the direction of the parlor, “he’s gonna tell you-know-who.” 
Joshua frowned, because he already knew. After all, he stayed in the back room with you all last night, wiping away your tears. “Well, whoever did it is truly an artist,” he said genuinely, “it’s beautiful.” 
Joshua finally left you alone, and you suddenly felt emptier than before. Sure, the breakup with Mingyu was conventionally bad, but why were you so conflicted with your feelings? You didn’t want Mingyu to know you were hanging out with other guys, but you wanted to let go of him. Maybe you were trying too hard too fast. 
But Vernon made everything so, so easy. 
No, you are not letting him be a rebound. The inner conflict in your head was giving you a massive headache, you couldn’t tell if the vibes you were feeling last night were because of the recent breakup or just an authentic spark. 
The storm door shuttered boldly, and you jumped. Wonwoo stepped out, and gave you a weird look. “You alright?” 
“Me? Yeah, fine.” You gripped the collar of your shirt and pretended to fasten the buttons. 
He was unconvinced, either that or the pinched look he was sporting was an indicator of a bad day. “Listen, I know things are gonna be weird because my best friend is your, y’know,” he trailed off, painfully trudging through this conversation as easily as trudging through quicksand. “He’s gonna stop by a couple more times during the week, doing me a few errands. So if you wanna take the week off, recalibrate before the the month ends, just let me know. ” 
“Won, please,” you wanted this to end, “we don’t have to talk about this, alright?” 
He awkwardly twirled around his car keys. “Alright.” As simple as that, he threw himself in his sedan and drove off, dirt brushing the pavement. 
You glared at the dust cloud until his car was far from your sights, the mustard color blinding your vision. “Honestly,” you said to yourself, finally hopping off your swing into the direction of the shack, “he thinks I’m five and never experienced heartbreak.” 
“Welcome to Nu ABO!” this voice was different, and you slowed your steps. It doesn’t quite have the husk that Vernon’s voice held, but definitely matched the energy. The boy stepped out, and his eyes sparkled in recognition. “Flower Girll,” he said to himself, and you suddenly felt like you got caught, “I don’t think we’ve met before.” 
"We haven’t,” you replied warily at the pet name, “where’s Vernon?" 
"Oh, he’s around.” The guy waved noncommittally to the air in the room, crouching his head to look down at you. He stuffed his hands in his black overalls, which covered a painfully bright rainbow tye-dye tee. “Curious to see Vern’s ink though. He’s only ever done small stuff.” 
“I thought he wasn’t an apprentice.” 
 He flicked his wrist around to show you a beautiful line of Chinese calligraphy. "Keep the secret between us, ‘kay?” He winked. 
“Minghao, leave her alone.” Vernon stepped out of the small bathroom hidden in the artist room, a white towel behind his neck. You took in his disheveled appearance. His face was red from washing his face, and he wore the same clothes from yesterday. “Hey.” He said. 
“Hi,” you replied, “did you sleep here last night?" 
"Uh, yeah.” Vernon rubbed at his neck again, and stuffed the towel in his backpack. “I usually do the morning and afternoon shifts, I covered for this guy last night,” he jabbed his fist in Minghao’s shoulder, “but still had to do my day shift.” 
“So,” Minghao rocked back and forth in his boots, “why are you here?” 
You suddenly felt self-conscious, and gripped your phone between your two palms. A little part of you was disappointed that Vernon was not alone, but another part of you was relieved. It helped slow down the pace of your feelings (feelings?) that was heading in a direction you were not anticipating. “I wanted to say thank you again for last night.” You coughed, and Minghao grinned wider at your explanation. “And I was wondering if you could take a picture of my back? I haven’t had a chance to look at it.” 
He beamed, and you could tell he was happy that you wanted to document his work. “Oh, of course! I completely forgot last night.” 
Vernon moved to grab your phone, but Minghao swiped a hand in front of him. “Can I take your photo?” He asked you, although the look in his eyes said that you didn’t have much of a choice. 
Your cheeks burned at the sudden intrusion. “Huh?” 
“I mean, have you seen this guy’s Insta?” Minghao scoffed, albeit playfully as Vernon mirrored your flush. 
“What are you talking about?” Vernon exclaimed, thoroughly insulted, “my profile is tastefully abstract.” 
“It looks like it was tastefully done by a three year old.” Minghao pulled out his iPhone, and adjusted the filters. “I’m doing you a favor here, Flower Girl.” 
You looked warily at Vernon, who slumped in defeat, “If you’re going for that e-girl vibe, I guess Hao’s a better photographer.” 
“Better than your pictures coming out blurry.” Minghao shot back, holding the camera to your face. “There’s no light in here,” Minghao glared at the singular window in their tiny studio, the sill decorated with a single jade succulent. “Got any ideas?" 
Vernon shrugged, "You said I have the taste of a three year old, so." 
With Wonwoo gone for the day, you realized that you did have an idea of where you could take a tasteful picture. The thrill excited and terrified you. You only wanted a simple picture to see what it looked like, but Minghao looked as equally as excited to see your ink. Maybe it was the fact that the art was fleeting or that Vernon was really that talented, but it encouraged you to offer the setting up.
"I think our greenhouse has plenty of light,” you gestured out the studio’s only window, which was in perfect view of the flower shop. “We should be closing up soon, so it’s free." 
Minghao nodded approvingly, "We can try." 
And with a hasty "be back @ 4:20!” sign taped on the front door to Nu ABO, the three of them walked across the street to the greenhouse. 
You went in first, nearly bumping into Joshua who was bent over, pot in hand. 
“Hey Josh,” you grabbed the keys from the front desk, “borrowing the greenhouse." 
"Hey Josh,” Minghao and Vernon mimicked, who found it amusing that you just brushed by without an introduction. 
You rolled your eyes, hearing them exchange pleasantries and bro fists. The plexiglass doors to the greenhouse unlocked with a turn of your key, the smell of heat and grassy rain hitting your nostrils. Joshua placed the pot somewhere, following suit as the boys were right behind you. 
“Awesome,” Minghao exhaled, stepping further into the greenhouse. It was a small one, but comfortable enough for a couple patrons to browse around. “I’m gonna move around some plants if that’s okay, I gotta vision.” 
Joshua looked a little frazzled watching Minghao talk to himself and start moving the settings around (“The hydrangeas don’t go there, are you crazy?”) and started helping Minghao move the pots and placements around. You and Vernon hung around the entrance, giggling to yourselves. 
You tried to bump his shoulder, which didn’t even reach his. “So, what’s your Insta handle?” 
He quirked his brows at that, “Why, so you can judge my aesthetic too?” 
“No,” you replied, faking your shock. “I would never insult your taste!” 
With a roll of his eyes he said, “Speaking of taste, since your shift is over and my shift is over,” Vernon rocked back and forth on his feet. “Wanna grab a bite?” 
Something’s fluttering in your stomach, and you stomp it down. It’s an innocent invite, yes. Unfortunately it was not-so-innocent in your twisted mind knowing that you are still fresh from a breakup, yet your backed is marked with Vernon’s work. “You must be tired though,” you tried to reason, “you should get some rest, I don’t wanna bother you.” 
“Not a bother,” he said immediately, “besides, I wanna ask you something.” 
That got you curious. Before you had a chance to ask, Minghao was ushering you over, telling you to stand in front of a bundle of orchids. They’ve bloomed a Canary yellow, encasing you in a golden ring of flowers overlooking the terrace. The new friend has gestured for you to undo your shirt and he turned away in respect. It’s different with an audience and an expectation.  You made haste to undo the buttons of your blouse, then your bra, throwing it aside. You felt the warm, moist air kiss your back, and you heard a low whistle coming from Minghao. 
“Beautiful,” Minghao exhaled, “Vern, you’ve outdone yourself." 
Beautiful. Vernon made you beautiful.
Your body was simmering, and you could do nothing as you let Minghao photograph you. You focused your eyes on a puddle dripping from a faucet in front of you, counting the seconds between each droplet. 
“And, done.” 
You shoved on your clothes, and felt extra awkward as you fumbled to reach for the straps of your bra. You nearly slipped on the puddle as you walked back to the boys, who were busy over Minghao’s shoulder. 
“Super awesome,” Minghao handed you the phone brightly, “so much texture and feeling.” 
The screen showed a halo of foliage that surrounded your bare back, blush orchids kissing the frame with color. Your work shirt bundled under your hips, and fell under your elbows to reveal a city sky. You were breathless, zooming in to capture every detail of the ink. A navy sky, blanketing buildings across your back in a diagonal, splaying from the bottom right to the top left. On the bottom, skyscrapers reaching for the stars. 
If you zoomed in enough, you could tell that the stars were shaped like roses. 
“I don’t know how many times I’ve said thank you in the past two days,” you started, causing Vernon to grin widely. “But thank you, I’ve never felt so beautiful.” 
Vernon scoffed, “I didn’t do anything, I’ve only enhanced your beauty. That’s our shtick.” 
You handed Minghao back your phone and thanked him. He then rushed off, saying he had to stay at the parlor since Yoongi was coming soon. Immediately, Joshua began putting back the plants in their rightful places. You and Vernon followed suit, starting with the smaller ones. 
“So,” Vernon picked up a tray of succulents, “are we still on for dinner?” 
Wide-eyed Joshua crept in-between the foliage, laughably appearing under a series of hanging plants like a madman. “Dinner?” he asked, looking between you two. 
“Yeah man,” Vernon reached to pull Joshua away from the plants, “wanna come?” 
Simultaneously disappointed and relieved, you let out a subconscious exhale. Joshua was coming, which meant that there would be no possibility for feeling weird (or catching feels), being awkward or fighting any oncoming feelings with Vernon. 
"On Thursdays there’s this really good half-off sushi deal by my place. We can take out and eat at my apartment?” Joshua’s kindness was palpable at the offering of his home, and the both of you smiled gratefully.
Not more than two hours later, the three of you are bundled away in Joshua’s two-room, empty boxes of carryout stacked high. The television was playing reruns of Full House, the only source of light in the dim space. 
“Are you gonna go home soon?” Vernon asked, and turned his head to the corner of the room. Joshua is cuddled up in the single couch, tucked in a wearable blanket with the armholes. 
You shrugged, “I dunno. Usually I crash here for sushi nights,” you patted the couch lovingly, “This is my second bed.” 
Vernon chuckled, tucking his feet under his thighs. It made him look impossibly small in comparison to how tall and lanky he actually was.
“So, what did you want to ask me?” 
Vernon looked between his legs, as if he were trying to piece his words together. “Long story short, I got waitlisted at my top graduate school option,” he then pulled up his phone, revealing the picture of your back that was taken that afternoon, “but I was thinking that if I made a portfolio of this kind of art, it would really tip my application over the edge. Originally I was thinking of just sending my usual art, but it just popped in my head today while we were doing it.” He looked up through his eyelashes, wisps of copper looking expectantly at you. “If you’re comfortable with it, would you be my canvas?”  
“Live art,” you surmised, “honestly, I’m honored that you would want me to be a part of something so big. You think I’m that good?” 
No, you weren’t doubting Vernon’s art one bit. The fact that your back would be out on display for a bunch of strangers was unnerving, to say the least. 
“Are you kidding?” Vernon zoomed out of the image, revealing the curve of your back and the generation of life reflected in the greenhouse. “This is wicked. You’re stunning. We’d make a great team!” 
You felt your body heat at the statement. His presence was almost too refreshing, and you wanted to return the favor of helping you out last night. 
“Lucky for you,” you shot a quick text to Wonwoo, “I’ve planned to take this week off.” 
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Over the course of the week Vernon wanted to do an artistic timeline of sorts, adding and retouching the already existing ink on your back until the canvas was full. It felt fulfilling, letting yourself become a vessel of success for someone. The following day, Vernon shot you a text revealing his portfolio, and said how excited he was to see you. 
You met in the shack after his shift, and Vernon let you into the office and locked the door. You can hear the rap being played in the artist room where Minghao and Yoongi were working with a client.
The artist was muttering to himself as he invited you to sit at the couch. Something about whether he wanted to start from the “top-down” or “bottom-up.” Instead of contributing to his madness, you turned away from him and started shedding your shirt. Today was a plain cotton shirt, and you shucked it off and balled it in your arms. 
No less than five seconds was Vernon’s hands on your back, and despite the warmth radiating from his fingertips, you couldn’t help but shiver. Vernon had explained that while he did a large portion of your back the first time, there was still room for growth and he wanted your back filled by the end of the week. 
“Do you mind if I,” his hand hovered over your bra. 
You shook your head, and with his thumb and forefinger he flicked off both your bra straps with ease. Your hands flooded themselves in the fabric of your t-shirt, which silently accepted your death grip. 
“Sorry, do you feel weird?” He definitely sensed your lack of vocality, and put one strap back in case. 
“I’m fine,” your voice is light, what else could you say? 
“Whatever you say,” he hummed, and resumed his work. 
You opt to take in the sounds. Minghao laughed about something in the other room, coupled with the zing of the needle. The music pulled to a stop and boomeranged back into a smoother arrangement. 
“I think we’ll start from the bottom-up and build from there,” he then placed his hands around your waist, poking at the dive between your waist and your bottom. 
There’s an unmistakable heat that pooled within you, which caused you to wring your shirt harder. It was going to be a long week. 
By Wednesday, he was in your apartment, working on the sides of your waist. The day after every session, Vernon would take a picture of yesterday’s work and show it to you. A gummy grin would always take over his face, either proud of himself or happy that you loved the new addition. 
Despite the fact that the only thing covering your body was a thin gown medical taken from the shop, every pore of your body felt unbelievably hot. You really shouldn’t be mixing alcohol on a Wednesday night, but Vernon was excited that he was halfway done with the project and it was time to be “poppin’ bottles.” 
You felt a little drowsy as a result of that, but nothing terrible. Like he said, the feeling was cathartic. 
“Aren’t you drunk too?” you murmured into your navy blue whale plush, “what if you accidentally stab me?” 
Vernon laughed, and it shook the couch. You couldn’t see his face as he sat on the floor, getting in the crevices of your skin. He poked at your skin a little harder than usual, as if he were testing the possibility. “That’d still take a lot of strength.” 
“You’d be surprised,” you sighed, “those little sticks florists use to keep the babies upright? Flat as a thumb and I still manage to impale tomatoes with them.” He doesn’t respond to that, and you’re left drowning in your own answer. You wondered if he truly thought you were a crazy tomato-killer, or was concentrated on detailing a particular patch of skin. “Can I tell you a secret?” you blurted, “honestly, I think flowers are beautiful, but I really hate working at the florist. The only reason I’m doing it is because Joshua really needed the help and he knew I wasn’t going to do shit until my city job starts in September.” 
“Huh,” Vernon stopped, resting the heel of his hand on your back. “That’s funny. Explains all the cursing when you’re cutting roses outside.” 
“You’ve watched me outside?” you grinned into your cushion, “creepy much?” 
“Do you wanna know a secret?” Vernon blurted, evading your question with one of his own, “I’ve had the biggest crush on you since you came by in May.” 
You tensed, and if Vernon noticed, he didn’t react. He kept on doing his business, marking your back with baby’s breath. It had to be the alcohol talking. If he drank at all, you couldn’t even tell because you couldn’t get up and he was strikingly coherent. All this time, and you didn’t even notice? 
“You don’t have to answer,” he said, as if he knew you were strung speechless. “I just, wanted to say it. We’re cool.” 
And you agreed, pretending to fall asleep. 
Friday was around the corner before you knew it, and Vernon wanted to photograph the final piece where it all started. The greenhouse was devoid of human life at the crack of dawn, unless you counted Joshua who was asleep on the counter because he was the only one with a key that knew of your recent escapades with Vernon. 
Vernon was just as tired as you are, but he was adamant about having the photo taken at dawn, as the first picture was taken in the late day. There was some contrived symbolism attached to it that you didn’t really understand, but you trusted his vision. Besides, your panda eyes wouldn’t be revealed in the photo, so you could master the art of sleeping upright while he took photos. 
“Alright,” Vernon set up his camera. He was dressed in a university zip up and matching sweatpants, like he just rolled out of bed. “Everything’s set up, whenever you’re ready.” 
Likewise with you, and you pulled off your hoodie, not bothering with a bra. Despite the fact that the room was temperature controlled, the cold morning air still managed to worm its way to your bare top. You quickly rubbed down your gooseflesh with your palms.  
You two engaged in a comfortable silence as you tested out your poses and he adjusted his frame. After a couple of practice shots, the air seemed calmer.
“Cold?” Vernon asked casually.
“Anything that isn’t under the sheets of my bed is cold as hell,” you muttered, trailing your fingers delicately across your waist. 
“That’s a nice pose,” Vernon said to himself, “we’re almost done. Then you can go to bed for the rest of your day. Unless you’re down for breakfast?" 
You two still haven’t spoken about his little confession the other day, but in all honesty there was no reason to bring it up. Your lives were going in different directions, and you knew Vernon deserved more than a halfhearted summer fling. 
"I think I’m down for bed and breakfast,” you replied wryly. 
“Smart girl,” Vernon chuckled, “can you change your pose for me? Like, pretend that you’re stretching.” 
You didn’t understand what he meant by that, so you ended up flexing your arms in different directions. 
“No, we’re not doing yoga.” He let his camera swing around his neck as he rushed over to you. The sun was a soft white, the antithesis of golden hour as you two rushed to make the magic happen. He grabbed your arms from behind, twisting the left wris in an unusual angle. 
"Ah, Vernon!” You jerked around to face him, now fully awake. “I’m not a Barbie doll, you can’t just move me like that." 
Vernon doesn’t respond. He let go of you as soon as you screamed, eyes blown wide and pupils a thick black. His stare is frozen to yours, and his hand is in mid-air, a centimeter away from your bare breasts. 
"Oh,” you said, “did I whack you with my boob when I turned?" 
"Yeah, you boobed me.” Vernon looked afraid to stare anywhere but your face. “I’m so sorry." 
"It’s okay,” you bit the inside of your lip, “I don’t mind if you touch me there." 
Now, Vernon looked terrified. 
It’s been a long week. A long, surreal week. You wanted to tell Vernon about your conflicted feelings, you wanted to ask about his little crush, and what on earth did he find appealing about you. You wanted to tell him how much you trusted him with your body, and how you wanted him to do more to you than just ink. 
It’s then, the gaping boy shook himself together. His hands encircled your neck, haloing at the finishing piece of his work, an echelon moon. Vernon’s fingers trailed to cup your face, and you felt your whole body warm in anticipation. Patient, you waited for his carmine eyes to flutter shut, and you smiled, finally closing yours—
"The fuck is this?" 
In an instant, the air was sucked out of you like a blackhole, and Vernon immediately shielded you, throwing his jacket across you like a towel. 
"Mingyu,” you said shakily, clutching the cotton coat tighter around your form. 
It’s then that a no-longer bleary-eyed Joshua stumbled into the greenhouse, seconds too late. 
Mingyu threw down the sack of fertilizer he hauled on his back, black dirt smattering the floor.  “Its been barely a week and you’re fucking someone in the greenhouse, of all places?” Mingyu was angry, plain and simple. “I thought we agreed on a break." 
"You agreed on a break,” your thighs were numb from leaning on them, but Vernon’s hand on your back encouraged you to get on your feet. “I agreed that two years was too long to wait." 
"And who are you?” Mingyu squinted his eyes at Vernon.
“He’s none of your business,” you stepped in front of him, tugging his hoodie  closer around your frame. 
Mingyu’s face fell in realization, and he looked between you two with forlornness that made your stomach churn. “C’mon baby,” your nails embedded themselves in your palm at the jab, “can we go outside and talk about this?” 
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” your voice was paper thin, but loud enough for Mingyu to hear across the room, “I’d prefer you leave us alone, and do not talk to me ever again.” 
It took all your composure to turn around, and you glared a hole into Vernon’s chest. You felt your body bleed goosebumps around your arms and legs, not out of weather, but out of anxiety. You hugged yourself to shut the prickly feeling down. You heard Joshua do the only helpful thing this morning and it’s his soft utterances that finally pulled Mingyu out of the greenhouse. ,
What’s left is the drip of the hose, and the two of you, unmoved.
Thankful for the silence, you looked up at your companion, who was speechless. Vernon’s lower lip was puckered out slightly, face contorted as if to say I’m sorry, that kinda sucked. The tell-tale signs of emotional overload began to prick at your eyes. 
“I’m so sorry,” you wiped your face. Since when did you start crying? “I’m so sorry that I let all of this happen, and I let myself let this happen, and I’m such a mess and I’ve been trying to hide it all this time, but I’m selfish and I just wanted to see what would turn out of it.” 
“What are you apologizing for?” Vernon tried to lighten up the mood, and offered you an easy smile and reached for a hug.
“I’m sorry because I don’t know if I like you or not!” you outburst, and pushed him out of arm’s reach. “I feel so fucking guilty I just got out of a relationship and I can’t tell if I like you or I like your attention, honestly. And it isn’t fair because you’re just so sweet and kind and easy to love. Either way at the end of the summer I’m moving into the city for my full-time job. And I, I, I don’t know!” 
Vernon forced his way into your space, barely a foot apart. He didn’t touch you, but his warmth still emanated from the jacket you were wearing. He didn’t seem upset, then again you were probably upset enough for the both of you. 
“Hey, I offered to do your back because I knew you needed a distraction,” Vernon said softly, “no strings attached, ever. You do you, right? Focus on yourself.” 
You wished he was mean about this. It would’ve made it easier. “What if this is the last time we talk? What if I want to ignore you for the rest of the summer?” you murmured, already knowing you. should enjoy these final moments. 
“We’ll live,” he shrugged, and finally broke the space between you. His lips planted themselves between your forehead, melting away the lines that marred your brows apart, “and we’ll heal.”
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The city was daring. The city was unforgiving. 
You tugged your scarf closer around your neck, which constricted your airflow but also prevented any possible windchill from slicing your neck. In your other hand you were hauling a week’s worth of work in a luggage that had once packed your things in August and sent you to this very career path. 
As much as you loved your new life, you wished things would be a little more boundless. The box of your workspace, the box of the elevator, and the box of your goshiwon apartment were starting to feel particularly stifling this weekend. 
It was Friday (or FriYay, as your co-workers dubbed) and that meant a weekend vegging out with a comfort meal and a new movie. There was a Burger King and a Gongcha under your apartment complex, both calling your name. 
Boba and burgers, the perfect way to end a week. 
You munched on your fries as you scanned the Gongcha menu, craving something sweet to contrast with your salty meal. 
It is then a low, sultry whisper sauntered in your direction (in a Gongcha, with children) and you almost choked on your fry. “I would know that back anywhere,” the offender drawled. 
What a strange pick-up line. The paper bag crinkled in your grip, and you turn around to see a familiar perky face in a scarlet Adidas tracksuit. Of all the places, he was here. 
“Hey, Flower Girl.” Minghao greeted, wiggling his fingers in a wave. He was on a tall stool, long legs splayed out and a cup of oolong milk tea hung lazily in his grip. His cup was at least 50% ice, and he was shaking the cup like a rattle every ten seconds.
“Normally, people would start with a simple hello,” you replied wryly, ushering him over to wait with you in line. 
“Normally,” Minghao shrugged, and slipped an arm around your shoulders as if you were long lost friends, “how have you been doing? Planting gardens for the spring?” 
“Please,” you scoffed. To Joshua and Wonwoo’s chagrin, you’ve forgotten a lot since the summer. “I can’t even make a corsage anymore, my brain’s on overload. What about you?” 
It looked like he was waiting for you to ask that. You barely got your order in before he started spitting out his story. “Didn’t you hear?” Obviously you didn’t, and he didn’t give you a chance to answer. “Two letters. RM.” Again, nothing. “The RM? The hottest rapper in Korea? Anyway, he was one of our clients in August—he got a sick design of a koala and an alpaca, cooler than you think—and gave us a massive tip on his Instagram story. We were famous overnight! We were getting crazy clients left and right—fuckin’ Sana wanted a little heart on her sternum, hottest thing.” 
“So you were able to relocate the parlor to the city?” 
“The big push was when Yoongi dropped RM his demo,” he shook his cup furiously, ice clanging, as if he never got tired of this story. “Like, I didn’t even know they were texting! I’ve been running the parlor mostly, I’ve always wanted to live in the city, but RM funded a lot of it and is helping Yoongi make his mix.”
In the back of your head, the question of an aspiring grad student was niggling in your brain, but you pushed it down. “So, if Yoongi’s working on his demo and you’re supposed to be running the parlor, why aren’t you there now?” you asked.
He stared at you as if it were the most obvious choice. “Because I’m here, drinking boba with you.” Minghao then grabbed your finished drink from the employee’s hand, ushering you out the door. “And now you’re going to follow me, because my break was over fifteen minutes ago.” 
“What?” 
“I have your boba,” he’s already out the door, waving your precious beverage like a fish to its line. “Hurry up, now I’m sixteen minutes late!” 
You groaned, lugging your suitcase full of work and now cold french fries back into the freezing weather. The wheels of your suitcase are cracking in exhaustion, mirroring yours. You just wanted your damn milk tea, hot fries, and a Netflix catch-up. What was the point of following Minghao to Nu ABO, when there was no reason to be there other than … 
“Oof!” your face slammed into Minghao’s back. The light was red. “Did Vernon move here too?” 
“Duh, who else would be covering for me?” 
“You’re trying to set me up!” You cried in betrayal, jabbing him in chest with your finger. “Y'know what, I’m just going to get another boba. You keep that.”
You two glared at each other. Minghao looked relentless, ignoring whoever was bumping into him on the streets. His eyes suddenly glinted to your rolling luggage, and he snatched it from your grip, running into the streets. 
“Can’t replace your work, right?” He laughed, forcing you to chase him down the block.
You felt sweat start to develop on your back, contrasting with the icy weather. Your work blazer and pinstripe loafers were not suited for vigorous activity. Minghao has an unfair advantage, being tall and athletic, and you had just finished half a bag of Burger King. Damn him. 
Minghao stopped in front of a sunken in building, with stairs leading downwards to a neon-lit parlor with the name glittering in electric periwinkle font. Flustered, you gasp at the cold air, finally able to stop. Despite having lost your breath ten meters ago, you managed to tell Minghao you’re proud that they have a real parlor. 
Your heart was beating in your ears, and you can’t tell whether it was because you haven’t worked out in months, or because Vernon was behind that door. 
Minghao dumped your luggage behind the reception area, and went straight into the artist room. This new parlor was much bigger, so when Minghao disappeared into a hallway he was out of your sight. You wait around, letting yourself sink into the familiar hip hop playlist. There are pictures littering the walls, all covered with a clean black frame. You see Yoongi and the supposed RM, sporting his koala and alpaca ink (which actually did look sick) and some photos of Minghao’s work, all of his designs being simultaneously colorful and graceful. 
It’s then in the epicenter of this wall is a long black frame that cut across the horizon, seven images of a woman with flowers and stars inking her back. 
Your back. 
“Beautiful, right? I’m sure it takes you back.” Minghao was over your shoulder, flicking his fingers between the photos. “Lots of customers have requested these designs. He never makes them the same way, though.”
Instead of answering, you followed Minghao down the hallway and into the artist room. Vernon had just finished with a client. Poking in head first, you saw him ticking off protocol off a printed list, speaking concisely. The client was listening intently, and you see he has an arm sleeve with peonies. It’s then he noticed Minghao intruding once more, and frowned. 
“Dude, you got milk tea without me?” Vernon said, affronted. 
“Ya didn’t ask.” Minghao vigorously shook the ice in your tea like a baby rattle. 
“You didn’t mention it, therefore I couldn’t have asked.” 
“You’re so smart, Hannie,” he beamed at him like a proud parent complimenting his son, “that’s why he’s going to grad school.” 
You let yourself in fully, and you felt shy as Vernon’s lips parted slightly upon realizing who his second guest was. 
“Hey,” Vernon exhaled, and gave you a small smile. He looked happy, content. As handsome as ever, he ran a gloved hand through his hair, soft curls bouncing as he shifted around the parting. “This is uh, a surprise.” his eyes flickered to Minghao, who held his arms out in a passive shrug. “A good one to end the week.” 
“Hi,” you bit your lip, feeling shy, “so, you decided to get certified and you’re going to grad school? I missed out on a lot.”
“That’s okay, we got time.” Vernon assured, “besides the fact that I got a project due tomorrow morning that I’ve barely started, and then I have a field trip I gotta go to on Sunday—”
Before it could drag on any longer, Minghao hacked out a very loud, and very fake cough. You broke out of the rêve, and muttered a “gimmie that” before snatching your precious bubble tea out of Minghao’s hand. 
Vernon mirrored the cough, more out of embarrassment than annoyance. “Lemme finish up with this client, yeah?” And he jerked his head back to the patient, going on about safety. 
Minghao led you out of the room, whispering a “you’re welcome” in your ear that taunted you for the rest of the night. 
Vernon finished at 5, just like he did back in the little shack at university square. He came out in a 2XL neon green hoodie, leading the client out the door and telling him to “take it easy”. As soon as the client’s gone, he comes over to you. You’re still staring at your pictures, as if you couldn’t believe that you were on display, looking like a tasteful nude model. 
“Hi again,” he said, dusting the imaginary dirt off his pants. 
“Hi,” you replied, feeling tingly at the sound of his voice. Did you really miss him that much? 
"Um, is it cool if I hug you?" 
It certainly has been awhile. You nodded, unsure if you could form a coherent response because you could tell Vernon was blushing and he was being too damn adorable for you to handle. 
Upon permission, he brightened. The warmth of his cotton hoodie enveloped you like the way hot chocolate feels after a cold day. You breathed in his scent, realizing how much you missed the scent of fresh laundry, especially on him. 
"How are you?” He asked casually.
“Uh, m'okay.” You answered softly, “a little cold nowadays." 
He hugged you tighter in response. With one more squeeze he let himself go, but kept you at an arm’s length. "Wanna get dinner?" 
You looked at him funny, "didn’t you say you had a project due tomorrow morning that you haven’t started?" 
Without missing a beat he altered, "Wanna get takeout? I’ll do work and eat while,” his eyes darted to your luggage, “you do work?" 
While you wanted to say that it was Friday (FriYay!) and you weren’t planning to open Pandora’s Box until Sunday night, you obliged and followed him to his place. 
On the way over, Vernon got his well-needed milk tea (and your second round) with two matching cartons of jajangmyeon. You trailed behind him rather than next to him, due to the fact that he was also lugging a Joshua-sized canvas on his back. In fear of being knocked out or ruining his work, you settled for walking a meter apart. 
Vernon lived on the second floor of his complex. You imagined a sizable one-room similar to your goshiwon, but you’re in awe when you see a fully furnished living room and kitchen. You smiled at the singular jade plant decorating the windowsill, one you remembered as Patricia Planty one session months ago. The hardwood was so shiny you could see your reflection in them. Kicking off your shoes, you stumbled over the kitchen countertop, reveling at the onyx granite. 
"I’ve never seen this much granite in my entire life!” You cried, spreading your hands over the cool rock. It was so well polished, you could see your reflection.  He was certainly living the high life this year. 
Vernon shook his head, setting the take out down and pulling out the containers. “It’s RM’s old place. I rent it out with the guys." 
"God, this is ten times better than my place! Your kitchen is bigger than my apartment!" 
He flicked your bowl of jajangmyeon over to your side of the countertop, the sauce and noodles premixed for you. "Eat up, babe.” He stuffed a radish in his mouth, now working to mix his own noodles, “we got a lotta catchin’ up to do." 
Whether it was your hunger or the casual use of the word "babe”, you abandoned the granite for now and did as told. 
An hour later, you’re flipping through their mounted TV, taking full advantage of their Disney+ subscription as Vernon is laying on the floor.  
“I thought you were working,” you chastised, letting yourself sink further into their couch. It was like resting on a big, fluffy marshmallow. You never wanted to leave. 
Vernon is splayed out like a starfish, papers and watercolors spread around him. His large body stood out against the white linoleum floor, his neon green hoodie reflecting on the shiny surface. “I am.” he replied blandly, “I’m waiting for lightning to hit me with a burst of inspiration." 
"Grad school’s biting you in the butt?" 
"Big time." 
Another bout of silence hit the two of you, and it was surprisingly nice. You finally started to notice that Vernon is picking up some art utensils and is doodling something. (He still is on the floor and hasn’t sat up properly, but progress is progress.) 
It felt oddly domestic, but you didn’t mind. There was no need to ask about the past, Kim Mingyu, or any other silly drama you two entrapped yourselves into last summer. What mattered now was the warmth of each other’s presence on this chilly night.
Your eyes are heavy and fighting against the long day, and before you know it, you’re asleep just as Rapunzel escapes Gothel’s tower. 
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You haven’t awoken to the morning sun in a long, long time. While the notion sounded awfully depressing (because it was), you really didn’t have much of a choice because the goshiwon was closet sized, and closets had no windows. But today, the sun blasted you, forcing you up. This was accompanied by the the tell-tale sounds of breakfast, which was weird because you only ever ate cold food in your room, because there was zero ventilation. The scent of dark roast muddled your senses, forcing you awake. You twitched at the sudden stench, and snapped your back straight. Were your walls always this pristine white? 
"Didn’t know you were this early in the game, Flower Girl." 
You never went home. While Vernon was long gone and probably off presenting some haphazard art, Minghao and Yoongi (for the first time, in the flesh!) were watching you from their marbled island, while you rubbed the crusties out of your eyes. "Usually, encroaching on a significant other’s apartment is reserved for the 5th or 6th date.” Minghao teased, waving his Nutella toast in your face. 
“Oh, shut up,” you glared at Yoongi, who was slowly chewing on his own toast. There’s was black spark in his eyes, like he’s relishing on whatever has unfolded. “And you, you. I know this is the first time we’ve met and you haven’t said a word. But shut up too. Your thoughts are awfully loud.” 
You’re embarrassed, and you pull up your hands to mediate your fired cheeks. Instead of your palms, you feel worn cotton dabbing at your face. You wiggled your fingers under the neon green hoodie. Vernon put on his clothes for you to wear. You were in a very uncompromising position, and his roommates were reveling every second of it. 
Yoongi shrugged, throwing you a flippant grin. “Whatever you say, Flower Girl.” 
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Contact emerged in the form of texts and images. You wondered how Vernon managed to keep things casual in light of how sudden your meeting was, but you relished in the way things fell naturally. 
[February 19, 2:10PM]
Vern: Is this still your number 
Vern: If so, here’s what i submitted for my project
Vern: IMG.934
Vern: if not, pls enjoy this picture of a pink platypus. the medium was watercolor nd if you’re curious, i got the idea from sunsets and phineas and ferb. Enjoy your day
You: hey look, there’s perry
Vern: nice
Vern: wait, this doesn’t confirm if ur u or a stranger
Vern: are u just a perry enthusiast 
Vern: evidence pls
[February 19th, 6:08PM]
You: IMG.48
[February 20th, 12:22AM]
Vern: ooh
Vern: look cute in my hoodie 
You’ve toggled with the idea of just cutting straight through the bush and asking him out the next time you see him in person. A little part of you liked the chase, however. That feeling where you’re tugging between friendship and something more, and you can’t help but feel like you’re fifteen everytime his name popped up in your messages. You self-dubbed it the-honeymoon-to-the-honeymoon phase. 
[February 27, 5:34PM]
Vern: what are you up to 
You: it’s hour 32. I’ve been under the covers and have survived solely on celery and honey-butter chips. currently binging all netflix comedies. debating on whether to send for help otherwise i may never get up
Vern: that’s the spirit 
By the time two weeks passed, you felt confident enough to ride off the mutually weird text messages and constant contact to meet with him. By then, you’re knees deep in the honeymoon-to-the-honeymoon phase. You’re languidly floating in that river, hoping you’re not rushing it by agitating the waters. 
[March 8th, 10:10PM]
You: hey
You: you up? 
Vern: nah. mastered the art of sleep textin
You: just wanted to ask if you could help me pick out a tatt that would fit me
You: if you were available. I’ve heard from the mullet-monster that you’re a hot commodity drowning in appts and deadlines
Vern: wait forreal? 
Vern: i can pencil u in. tomorrow night @11? 
You: so soon? What happened to being busy
Vern: not for u. Already have an idea in mind
By the time you arrived Saturday night, Minghao was slapping your back across the door, gabbing on about a “major banger” they were missing uptown. He looked the part, the only person you knew that could fill out an all-studded denim fit. Like a disco ball at a rodeo. He barely said good-bye before he hopped in a Lyft, cheering for freedom. 
You poked your head into the artist room, and saw Vernon playing on his phone. His fist dug into his cheek, carob pupils glazed over. You almost felt bad for wanting his attention this late.
“You usually do the day shift,” you commented quietly, holding up a bag with two milk teas in hand. 
Vernon looked up, illuminating in a half-smile. “Y’know me, always covering. Just for the hour though, this shouldn’t take long since we’re just looking at ideas.” 
He slapped a hand on the client chair. This one was much better than the cot they had in their shack. This one was pure leather and gleamed high quality. You placed your drinks on the countertop and eagerly bounced onto the seat. “Comfy,” you murmured, and wriggled your sneaker-clad feet.
“Good,” there’s a sharp snap from the plastic seal and Vernon is sipping into his milk tea seconds after you put it down. He’s chewing on a particularly large gulp, gnawing on pearls like no one’s business. With his rolling chair, he slid over to you, seamlessly reaching for your wrist. 
If he noticed that you’re wearing a particular neon item, he doesn’t comment. He turned on the overhead lamp, letting a soft white light bathe your form. When he finally spoke, he chanted your name in a sing-song, tapping your wrist in beat. It’s as if he  were envisioning the color blooming on your skin. 
You let him do his thing, and he pulled out his phone, scrolling through his gallery. You see pictures of his friends, some of his family, and digital art. He scrolled slower at the myriad of images: a colorful orca, lavender constellations, and budding roses. 
You were seeing a lot of flowers nowadays, with the burgeoning of spring and the recent ending of Valentine’s. It’s only now that you notice how apparent the theme is throughout the parlor, particularly in Vernon’s affinity. 
“Why don’t you call me it?” you asked softly, peering over his form to see him mulled over a picture of periwinkle lupines. 
“Huh,” he’s distracted, and has now swiped back to the colorful orca image. 
“Flower Girl,” you uttered, “they call me that, but you don’t.” 
Vernon clicked his phone down, the lupines flicked away. He peered at you through his lashes, the white overhead making his eyes appreciably bright. “Before I knew your name,” he started slow, making faces to himself as if he were debating on whether to tell you, “I’d call you Rose. You were always by the rose bush planted outside the shop.” 
“Avoiding work,” you crinkled your nose, however relished in the endearment, “being named after a rose is too big a compliment.” 
He snorted, “That’s what they said. Hence, Flower Girl was born,” he’s easy about it, but now he’s put his phone down and is rubbing circles in your wrist. You wonder if he felt how clammy your palms were getting from the minute intimacy. 
“You know what flower I’d compare to you?” you asked, “freesias.” 
“And what do those mean?” 
“Thoughtfulness,” the pad of his thumb still lingered on your skin, his grip painfully apparent. “And renewal.” 
“Why renewal?” 
“Because,” you swallowed, “you make me feel renewed. And this time I’m sure it’s because it’s you.” 
Vernon looked like he wanted to smile, trying so very hard not to embarass you whilst you poured your heart out with delicacy. His coral lips were tucked in a thin line, teeth biting at his lower lip. Drop by drop, he was going to accept that dew with as much care as possible. “Only me,” he inquired, pressing into your pulse. 
Your mouth was sand dry.  “Uh-huh.” You exhaled a breath long clutched in your throat, hot air fanning into Vernon’s face. He paid no mind, and (to no avail) was still trying to hold in his smile. “You’re dimples are showing,” you whined, poking the little dip in his cheeks with your free hand. “Use your words.” 
“Like?” he elongated, playing dumb. You supposed you earned his brand of torture, after all, seven months is a long time to make up for. 
“Like how we want the same thing?” you tried. 
“How do you know I want what you want?” he feigned, furrowing his thick brows. Acting could’ve been another career possibility for him, portrayed by the way his eyes were blown with confusion, his mouth parted like a kitten.  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Forget words!” you broke, nearly shaking from the nerves. 
It’s then that Vernon finally gave you a concrete response. His grip on your wrist was near painful as he eagerly tugged you closer, kissing you. There’s enthusiasm in every action from the way he pulled you closer, large hands melding to cup your cheeks. A little part of you is both breathless and invigorated at the energy stinging the room, and you can barely keep up until Vernon spilled kisses down your neck. 
He threw up the armrest holding him back, tucking his knee between your legs as he lapped you up, kissing you fully. The chair was much too small for the both of you, his large body pressing you further into the cushions. 
He sat up a bit, bumping his head on the lamp. He paid no mind. “By the way, I like you, too.” Vernon puttered cheekily, rubbing his scalp. Just as swiftly, he latches onto your neck and sucks at a sensitive spot. You can feel his teeth showing from the smile in his kisses. His thumbs rubbed lazily over your jaw, enjoying the feel of your soft skin under his rough palms. 
“Really,” you exhaled, relaxing against the headrest as Vernon’s wandering hands traveled lower. “Had no idea.” 
“But I’m happy,” Vernon is fumbly and sweet, mumbling in the crook of your neck while his fingers toyed with the waistband of your sweatpants, “happy you’ve healed, and happy for us.” 
He’s excited, almost too excited. The space between you two was warm, the lamp beating under your skin, awakening something between you two that was left behind that summer. It’s as if winter left him dormant, and you were the fresh flower waiting to be bloomed under his touch.
“Are you always,” you gasped, two fingers already worming their way inside your panties, “talkative at this part?” 
“Not if you wanna talk,” and the ever-zealous Vernon Chwe gets to work, sticking out his tongue in surprise when he finds that you’re already drenched. “Shit, you’re so beautiful,” he holds onto that word dearly, and pressed his forehead against yours, “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to hold you like this,” he reached for your delicious bud, and you felt your senses flower into pleasure. 
He makes a noise, low in his throat as he watched you melt against the seat. “I like you like this,” he said thickly, his voice matching the slick sounds emitting from yourself. “Comfy, relaxed. You always looked so stuffy in those work suits,” you feel wholly undeserving of this worship, as he licked a long strip from your collarbone to your neck, “would love to help you chill out a lil’ more.” 
A whine bubbled from the back of your throat, your eyes rolling shamelessly as you feel the pads of his fingers working circles between your folds. “Ah, I’ve—I’ve fantasized about this,” you confessed, “every time you’d ink my back. At one point we just stopped covering myself with those stupidly thin gowns. All you had to do was turn around.” Vernon blinked rapidly, mental pictures ticked like film in his pupils. His hands stuttered across your slick, inserting two fingers between your folds as you continued. His pace was slow, yet purposeful as he made sure you felt him with every thrust. Rings adorned his fingers, and the cool sensation surprised you. You shivered in pleasure. “Mm, I’ve imagined us kinda like this in that little shack, hard against the cot overlooking the shop,” 
“Dirty,” he said, as if recalling the weather. 
“And ah—wondering what kind of tattoos you have,” and in your haze you reached for him, your hand gripping firm at his gunmetal belt buckle. You tucked your fingers between the button of his light wash jeans, palming the telltale signs of something hard, “please? You’ve done too much for me, lemme return the favor.” 
“Not now,” he pressed his forehead to yours, “you can guess my ink on our way home.”
“Wha?“ You’re dazed, feeling warm with affection and drowned in the moment. You feel his fingers, slowly pumping out of its rhythm and resting on your thigh. You groaned at the premature end, his shiny digits resting on your fleece sweats. 
“They’ll kill me, this is new leather,” Vernon said, “and now we can afford security cameras, which are so small even I can’t find them.” 
“Unbelievable,” you laughed. You’re not frustrated, only endeared. 
“Besides, I’d rather have our first time somewhere private. Undisturbed,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, "somewhere where there’s lots of granite." 
You melted, pulling at his collar to pepper kisses on his nose. The mention of coming home to his pretty kitchen was icing on the cake. "You know how much I love your granite." 
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(After your granite fantasy was fulfilled, you spent the rest of the weekend huddled in Vernon’s room. You’re living off take out and mutually satisfied with the unhealthy means. When you’re not eating or watching movies, the two of you are drafting your first piece. 
Freesias and pink roses.)
(His tattoo was also very cute.) 
664 notes · View notes
quietmyfearswith · 4 years
Text
where our demons hide {dark!sam wilson x fem!reader} part 2
where our demons hide {dark!sam wilson x fem!reader} part 2
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status — ongoing series
warnings — non-con turns into dub-con, implied oral sex (giving), name-calling, swearing, porn with a bit of plot, dark!sam wilson, unprotected penetrative sex (pls dont do this, use protection!)
word count — 2,129
a/n — u can read this as a standalone but if you want, you can read the first part. my askbox is open if you guys wanna talk, rant, or if u have questions abt this fic or my other fics. feedback is very much appreciated! have a great day and stay safe guys :> 
masterlist
part one — tony stark
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Tapping on the counter top, I was waiting for the coffee pot to warm up the caffeinated drink that would hopefully awaken my senses. Upon seeing the light switch from red to green, my hands grabbed my aluminum tumbler and poured out the liquid. As I was sealing the cover up, a knock on the door of the common kitchen for the researchers had me turning around and raising my brow, “Hey Kim, what’s up?”
Her tawny-colored skin was somewhat damp with sweat and her chest was panting slightly, “Mission debriefing is starting in a few minutes, some of the agents just landed.” This just made me even more confused as I placed the coffee pot back to its former position, before crossing my arms, “What’s it got to do with me? I’m not usually needed there, you know.”
As she was wiping her face, she explained to me, “I was shocked too when they told me they needed you. But I think it’s because they have gathered information that they might need verification and more investigation, so you’re needed there.”
I thanked her and told her that I would be there in a few, with the tumbler on my hand, I quickly made my way inside my office, left the coffee on my table and grabbed for my iPad and stylus pen. By the time I arrived at the conference room, it looks like the agents had just arrived. I smiled at them and looked for a seat.
“Sorry, I had to handover Redwing to the technology department. But we can begin now,” Sam Wilson declared as he walked in and motioned for one of the agents to start the debriefing. The Falcon chose to sit beside me and as I started to take notes of the meeting, I noticed how he scooted closer towards me. Seeing as we were both seated away from the projector, the other four people present in the room would not have a clear view of the two of us — especially of what was happening underneath.
While focusing my attention on the screen, I felt a warm, calloused hand on my thigh. For a brief second, it made me disconnect my vision on the screen and to the hand, I looked at Sam but before I could even question what he was doing he shushed me, “Pay attention to the briefing, baby.”
The pet name had me blushing and I complied with what he ordered me to do. As the agent was continuing on with what he was talking about, I felt the same hand on my thigh riding up my black skirt until the edge of it was sitting on the middle of my thighs. Small beads of sweat began dripping on my face — I was thankful that I had worn a sleeveless, lime green blouse for it would not show any sweat stains — as I was anticipating what his next move would be. At first he was simply drumming his fingers on my thigh and caressing it, but I later on felt his fingers glide from my thigh and to my knees.
I placed the iPad on the table and placed both my hands there, not only was I taking notes of what was being discussed in this meeting, but I was also hoping to shield whatever was happening underneath the table from the eyes of the other people who were present in the room. His cayenne-toned hand was inching his way towards the insides of my thigh. Enjoying the sensation of warmth that his fingers brought — as well as being completely engrossed on what was being discussed by the other agent who had taken the floor to speak about the earlier events of the mission — I absentmindedly widened my legs and welcomed his hand.
A low chuckle was let out by the Avenger and his amusement with the situation was also made clear through his fingers brushing my clit through my panties. I gripped on my stylus pen tighter when one of his fingers swiped my underwear to the side and he was gently poking my clit. Inhaling sharply, I looked from the iPad and onto the screen, relief washing over me once I realized that the debriefing had come to an end.
“I’m gonna stay here for a little while to copy the presentation and check over the reports you have,” I stated as I moved away from the table and stood up over to where the laptop attached to the projector was, the other four agents nodded and all made their way to door to leave the room. I saw that Sam also stood and headed for the door and just when I thought he would come along with them to leave he informed them, “I’m gonna stay just in case she has any questions about our mission. Great work earlier, by the way.”
As I continued on with sending the files to my email and as well to my other team members, I noticed how as Sam called them out goodbye, he shut and locked the door. I gulped as I saw him start to make his way towards where I was. Standing and towering over where I was seated, he placed both of his hands on my shoulders, his lips grazing my neck, “You did so good earlier, baby girl. Keeping quiet for me, letting me play with you.”
I didn’t know how to react and continued on looking for the files that they had found, this might have upset him because he bit down on the flesh of my neck and I whimpered, turning my head to face him. There was a sinister smile gracing his lips when I finally looked at him, “There’s my pretty girl,” he softly said as one of his hands grazed the side of my face, “why don’t you be a good girl and put that laptop down for now, hm?”
I nodded and placed the laptop down next to the projector and the iPad I used earlier, all without breaking eye contact with him — not that I could remove my eyes from his intense gaze. Upon seeing that I followed him, he once again told me to stand up and I did, he went behind me — his front pressing against mine. Feeling his breath tickle the back of my neck prompted the goosebumps on my skin to rise.
His hands gently grazed my forearms and they were slowly going lower into my waist then my hips. “I’ve been talking to Stark recently,” he began as his lips touched my ear, “And he told me how you’re one of the most hardworking employees we have.” My spine went frigid upon hearing this, memories of my previous encounter with the aforementioned hero resurfaced on my head and made me all tingly. “Is there any truth in that, baby girl?”
I gulped, “Yeah, he once caught me working late and being the only one left in the building,” I managed to breath out. A chuckle of approval vibrated through his chest and his hands slid down meeting the end of my black pencil skirt, hiking it up until the ends of it rested on my waist. As his hands began cupping and feeling up my backside, “I might have to see for myself how much of a hard worker you really are,” and just as he said that, he shoved me into the table until my chest was planted firmly against the cold, wooden table and he swiftly slapped both of my ass cheeks.
I let out a small whimper as I turned my head around and watched him as he pulled my panties down, leaving it to pool at my feet. A small amount of drool left my mouth upon seeing how he was unfastening his pants and pulling it down it, along with his underwear — finally revealing his erected cock. “Let’s see how much of a good girl you are, baby.”
Despite my internal debate — on whether we would be caught, what if someone decided to walk in, should I really let this go any further — I found myself moaning in pleasure when Sam slid in with one move. “Fuck, baby girl, you feel so tight,” he groaned and did not wait for anything and suddenly pulled his hips back and slammed it back.
He was taking his time with his thrusts, but that did not mean he was being gentle. Long, slow, and powerful thrusts were being given to me. I wailed loudly as he entangled one of his hands in my hair and pulled on it, lifting my chest slightly above the desk, arching my back and I could feel his chest pressed against mine. His lips were placing wet kisses on my neck, “You like that, baby? You like having a thick cock inside of you?”
His other hand which was not entangled on my hair was rubbing my nipples through my blouse. Feeling that I had no bra, and just had nipple tape covering it had him laughing, “What a slut you are huh, baby? Coming to work with no bra, it’s just like you’re begging to get fucked!” My whimpers and dragged out moans were not enough to fuel him to keep him going, for he let go of my hair and spanked my ass, “Answer me! You like being used like a little whore?”
I nodded my head, “Yes, fuck! I like it when you use me, makes me feel full,” I was going to say more but he raised one of my legs and placed it on the table, stretching me out for him, allowing him to reach deeper within me. He also began to move one of his hands inside my blouse and remove the nipple tapes, flicking, pulling and twisting my nipples. To add even more pleasure, he was also slapping my ass and rubbing them after his hand met by backside flesh.
“Moan my name, baby, let me know how much you love this,” he managed to say within deep breaths and my fists curled near my head as the stimulation became too intense. He was displeased with my lack of response, which prompted him to push inside me and not pull out. With one hand still enveloped around my boob, his other hand was rubbing my swollen clit. Feeling deprived of pleasure and wanting to already cum, I was grinding my ass to his cock, hoping to match the pleasure he’d given me earlier. “You know what I wanna hear, baby. Say it and I’ll make you cum hard,” he retorted me at what I was doing.
“Please, Sam, please make me cum,” I began and he smirked and resumed thrusting in me, “You feel so good inside me. You got me so wet and I love having you in me,” I mewled out, hoping that my moans would get him going, and apparently it did the trick. He was now going fast and hard, not giving me any time to breathe, just using my body however he pleases — and I loved every single second of it.
With his two fingers rubbing my clit furiously, the other hand clawing and pinching at my breasts, as long as his thick cock hit my insides in a hard and furious pace, I came with a scream. This however did not stop Sam from going, he continued on with his pace even though I was overly sensitive. He withdrew both his hands from my boob and clit, placing them in my hips — moving my body in time with his thrusts — so every time he thrusted forward, my hips and ass would be pulled closer to him. “Fuck baby, I’m so close,” he groaned and I turned my head to see him biting his lips with his eyes staring directly into mine.
Unconsciously, I found myself clenching hard due to his intense gaze, it seemed to do the trick for shortly after he stopped thrusting and pushed all the way inside me. Hands loosening their grip on my hips, he groaned out loud as I felt his warm release spill inside me. I found myself panting following his release — thinking that this was over and that I would be able to get back to work. However, it seems like that was not what the Avenger had in his mind.
Sam pulled out of me and sat on one of the conference chairs, he was watching my move to wear my discarded panties when he interrupted me from doing so, “Don’t think I’m done with you, baby girl. Come over here and show me what that beautiful mouth can do.”
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valeriethepussycats · 4 years
Text
Assemble
Chapter 3
Pairing- Loki x Reader x Steve (one side)
Warning- cursing 
Your thoughts and other characters are in italics.
Flashback Bold
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The next day.  Y/n  is standing outside a gym trying to keep her powers under control but but it’s hard when your surrounded by people.
What’s in my fridge right now?....Do I have any milk?
I think I’m pregnant with my brother in-law baby’s
How come you never read about a psychic
winning the lottery?
Am I Ashy? I hope I’m not Ashy.
Why is  Batman a superhero when he brutally Beats up bad guys for saying hello.
When I get home I’m watching A Bug’s Life.
Calming down the voices she finally walks inside the gym and see Captain America. He’s beats the punching bag harder, like physically hurting it will repress the memories.
Hydra base, Captain America is running through a forest, didging mortar shells, gunfire and Tesseract energy blasts.
“There's not enough time! I gotta put her in the water!” Steve’s Voice echoed.
In the present, Steve's punches become harder and more violent.
Steve places the compass he has, featuring a picture of Peggy Carter, on the dash as the plane plummets towards the ice.
The present, punches become voilent and agressive.
“You won't be alone.” Peggy declared.
Red skull picked up the Tesseract, and vanishes.
In the present, Steve is beathing the bag with everything he has, destroying it and beating his fists.
“Oh my god!”
Steve is lying on a table, half frozen, and still partially trapped in a slab of ice. Two SHIELD scientists run equipment over him, checking for his vitals. Something flickers...
“This guy is still alive!”
Y/n  gets pulled out of Steve’s mind. “Wow. That one way to come backwards to the world.
“You punch any harder your fist is gonna go though it.“
Steve stops punching the bag and turns around and see Y/n. “Agent Munroe ma’am. Phil told me that you were coming.”
“Y/n. Just call me Y/n.” She said with a smile.
Steve starts to punch the bag again. “It's nice to meet.”
“Likewise. So how do you feel?” Y/n asked showing concern for a man she just met.
Y/n walks up to a punching bag next to Steve and, starts playfully punching it.
“Like I belong in a different time.....all of this is so strange. Flat screen TVs, cars that run on electricity.....” Steve trailed off.
“It’s understandable but look at the bright side you can have food deliver to your house.” Y/n said with a fond look.
Steve looks at Y/n confused.
“Pizza. Chinese food... Oh men we have to make some stops before we go to Shield.” Y/n  proclaimed.
“We don’t have time to make stops. They need us this is important.” Steve protested.”You’re right they do. But you need to experience this first and I know you're hungry.” Y/n insisted.
Steve sigh defeat. “Ok fine but only for an hour two at it’s tops.”
“Yes! You dont know it yet but This the start of an beautiful friendship.” Y/n said With a sincere smile as her and Steve walk out the gym.
○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○
Inside the Quinjet, Steve is sitting down with a tablet, watching the footage of the Hulk's attack on the Army at Culver University.
“We're about forty minutes out from base, sir.” One of the pilots said
Agent Coulson stands up from his seat and wipe his face with a napkin.
Francis’s pizza is so good.
Y/n chuckles as Coulson and walks over to her and Steve.
“So, this Doctor Banner was trying to replicate the serum that was used on me?” Steve asked.
“A lot of people were. I was assign to stop some of them. You were the world's first superhero.” Y/n  replied.
“Banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Erskine's original formula.” Coulson informed Steve.
The Hulk roars with fury as he slams a jeep apart.
“Didn't really go his way, did it?” Steve queried.
“Not so much. When he's not that thing though, guy's like a Stephen Hawking” Coulson explained.
Steve looks confused.
Y/n leans over and whispers. “He's a smart person.”
“I gotta say, it’s an honor to meet you, officially.” Steve smiles at Coulson as he continues. “I sort of met you, I mean, I watched you while you were sleeping.”  Steve looks down then a Y/n. He stands up, closes his laptop and walks to the side with Coulson following. “I mean, I was... I was present while you were unconscious from the ice. You know, it's really, it's just a... just a huge honor to have you on board.”
“Smooth. Real smooth Coulson.” Y/n lied.
“Well, I hope I'm the man for the job.” Steve remarked.
“Of course you are you’ve done amazing things in the past. You’re the perfect person for this job.” Y/n said sincerely and with a small smile.
“Ya Absolutely. Uh... we've made some modifications to the uniform. I had a little design input.”  Coulson told Steve.
“The uniform? Aren't the stars and stripes a little... old fashioned?” Steve supposed.
“With everything that's happening, the things that are about to come to light, people might just need a little old fashioned.” Coulson stated.
As Steve takes in Coulson's sentiment. The Quinjet lands down a massive battleship known as the Helicarrier. It has two runways. One with direct access to a hangar at the rear is aligned along the spine of the vessel.  Y/n walks up to Phill.
“Does the name Ororo Munroe mean anything to you?” Y/n questioned.
“No. Does it suppose to.” Coulson lied.
“No I guess not.” Y/n remarked not hiding her disappointment.
Agent Coulson, Y/n, and  Steve walk down the ramp, meeting up with Natasha.
“Agent Romanoff, Captain Rogers.” Coulson said introducing the two.
“Ma’am?” Steve replied.
“Hi.” She looks at Coulson. “They need you on the bridge. They're starting the face-trace.”
“Nat” Y/n said happily. “I didn’t know you were going to be here Coulson doesn’t tell me anything.” Y/n hugs Natasha then they both look at Coulson like ‘explain.’
“See you there.” Coulson said walks away, leaving Steve and Y/n with Natasha, the pair walking towards the railing of the Helicarrier.
“It was quite the buzz around here, finding you in the ice. I thought Coulson was gonna swoon. Did he ask you to sign his Captain America trading cards yet?” Natasha wondered.
“Trading cards?” Steve asked confused.
“They’re vintage, he's very proud.” Y/n disclosed.
Bruce Banner is seen walking around the ship, trying to stay out of the way while people walk in his way.
“Dr. Banner.” Steve called out.
The three walk up to each other and shake hands.
“Oh, yeah. Hi. They told me you'd be coming.” Bruce began. “You must be agent  Munroe.”
“You can call me Y/n it’s nice to finally meet you.” Y/n replied.
“Thanks.” Bruce said in a casual tone.
“Word is you can find the cube.” Steve Inclined.
“Is that the only word on me?” Bruce questioned.
“Only word I care about.” Steve answered.
Bruce takes in the sentiment. “It must be strange for you, all of this.”
Steve looks off to where a group of men in training are running, remembering his days in the army. “Well, this is actually kind of familiar.”
“Gentlemen, you might want to step inside in a minute. It's gonna get a little hard to breath.” Natasha disclosed.
The Helicarrier starts to shake as it prepares to take "sail". Others abord strap down planes and Quinjets in preparation.
“Is this a submarine?” Steve asked Y/n.
“Really? They wanted me in a submerged, pressurized metal container?” Bruce Said with sarcasm.
“No no it not a submerged.” Y/n answered.
The two both move closer to the edge of the Helicarrier. Four huge lift fans mounted on the sides starts to lift into the air as the ship takes flight. Steve watches in awe while Bruce just smiles.
“Oh, no. This is much worse.”  Bruce said with mock astonishment.
The doors part and we enter the bridge of the ship. A flurry of activity, dozens of agents sit in front of their viewscreens. Agent Hill shouts instructions to leave. The camera turns to Nick Fury who is at the command chair.
“We're at lock, sir.”  Agent Hill disclosed.
“Good. Let's vanish.” Nick answered.
The Helicarrier rises high into the heavens. Suddenly the entire ship is covered in reflecting mirrors, which then camouflages in the sky. Steve, Y/n and Banner walk through the glorious, gleaming bridge
“Gentlemen.” Nick started.
Steve gives Fury 10 bucks, referring to his earlier statement about never being surprised again. “And agent Munroe what a Surprise I thought you were in Sydney.”
“Well I got tired of helping Umm Marlin look for Nemo.” Y/n said with fire.
Fury walks over Banner and extends his hand. Banner, reluctantly shakes it.] Doctor, thank you for coming.
“Thanks for asking nicely. So, uh... how long am I staying?” Bruce asked.
“Once we get our hands on the Tesseract, you're in the clear.” Nick replied.
“Where are you with that?” Bruce asked.
Nick Fury turns to Agent Coulson to explain, while Natasha eyes an image of Clint Barton on a computer screen.
“We're sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet. Cellphones, laptops. If it's connected to a satellite, it's eyes and ears for us.” Agent Coulson explained.
“That's still not gonna find them in time.”  Natasha mumbled.
“Couldn’t we use spectrometers to speed up the process?” Y/n said pondering out loud.
“Yes that could work. How many spectrometers do you have access to?” Bruce voiced.
“How many are there?” Nick asked Bruce.
“Call every lab you know, tell them to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays. I'll rough out a tracking algorithm based on cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places. Do you have somewhere for me to work?” Bruce said with determination
“Agent Romanoff, would you show Dr. Banner to his laboratory, please.” Nick order.
Natasha nods and walks off, leading Banner down the hall. “You're gonna love it, Doc. We got all the toys.”
Y/n goes to leave as well but gets stop by the sound of Nick Fury.
“Agent Munroe my office.” Nick announced.
“No offense but I don’t think you want that right now.” Y/n said fire.
“My office now.” Nick hissed ordered
Y/n and Nick walks to his office in silence. Y/n is barely holding back her anger and this Conversation with Director Fury is not going to help but she needs to get this off her chest or she’ll explode.  Director Fury opens the door to his office and Motion for Y/n to walk in. She walks past him into the room and sit down in the chair in front of his desk. Director Fury closes the door and looks at Y/n.
“What are you doing here?” Nick asked.
“I’m here to help.” Y/n declared.
“You were supposed to be in Sydney.” Nick pointed out
“How do you know I was supposed to be in Sydney I haven’t called to do a check in.” Y/n teased.
I wonder if he’s going to tell me that he has a Tracking Device on me.
“Agent Coulson told me of your whereabouts.” Nick answered.
“Hmm I bet he did.” Y/n replied.
”Your assistance is no longer required we can we can handle it from here head home.” Nick ordered.
“Are you kidding me.” Y/n shouted. As she shot up from her seat. “I’m the only one here that knows anything remotely about Loki and you’re gonna bench me.”
”And how would you know that.” Nick questioned.
“re.....search.” Y/n lied.
Nick gives Y/n ‘the I’m not believing you’ look.
“Ok fine I was there ok I fought The Destroyer.” Y/n  confessed.
“I already knew I was just waiting on you to tell me.” Nick replied.
“Of course you knew why wouldn’t you know.” Y/n said dryly.
“I’m not saying you’re not best the person for the job I’m saying  it’s not safe with your condition.” Nick remarked.
“My cond- what is my condition?”
“It is not....it’s not safe for the people on this Helicarrier if you don’t have control your powers.”
“You want to talk about safety of the people, was you trying to keep me safe by not telling me my mother is alive or keeping me away from Gambit.” Y/n Stated.
The anger she felt roll off of her like a wave which made the room begin to shake.
“Y/n I didn’t tell you because-“
“You are afraid another November 18 is gonna happen.....ye have little faith. I want Gambit here now and if you can’t get him here I want a number. I’m not talking those stupid pills anymore.” Y/n declared as she throws the pill bottle in trash. “And I’m going to stay here and help and you’re going to allow it.”  Y/n finished as she walks out of the room not waiting for his response.
○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○
Back in the underground lab, Loki is looking Looking through all the Shield Agent portfolios until he comes across one in particular. Agent Munroe’s portfolio. As Loki opens portfolios to read it he finds every page in there to be blank.
“Agent Barton a word.” Loki called.
Clint walks over to Loki like a puppet with strings.
“What do you know of Agent Munroe?” Loki asked.
“She is a powerful mutant that can control the weather and read minds.” Clint answered.
“Read minds hmm that will be all.”  Loki said smirking.
Erik and several scientists work around the CMS device. Clint walks in, holding a tablet.
“Put it over there!” Erik told Clint. “Where did you find all these people?”
“Shield has not shortage of enemies, Doctor.” Clint Stated as he holds up a screen showing information on Iridium. “Is this the stuff you need?”
“Yeah, iridium. It's found in meteorites, it forms anti-protons. It's very hard to get hold of.” Erik explained.
“Especially if Shield knows you need it.” Clint Mumbled
“Well, I didn't know!” Erik said gruffly. Then he Sees Loki walking in. “Hey! The Tesseract is showing me so much. It's more than just knowledge, it's... truth.”
“I know. What did it show you, Agent Barton?” Loki wondered.
“My next target.” Clint voiced
“Tell me what you need.” Loki replied.
“I'll need a distraction.” Clint said grabbing his bow. “And an eyeball.”
○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○
That night in the Helicarrier bridge. As they are waiting to locate Loki using satellite facial recognition, Coulson is standing with Steve.
“I mean, if it's not too much trouble.”Coulson suggested
“No, no. It's fine.” Steve reassured Coulson.
“It's a vintage set. It took me a couple of years to collect them all. Near mint, slight foxing around the edges, but...”
“We got a hit. Sixty-seven percent match. Weight, cross match, seventy-nine percent.” Agent Jasper Sitwell announced.
“Location?” Coulson asked.
“Stuttgart, Germany. 28, Konigstrasse. He's not exactly hiding.” Agent Jasper Sitwell answered.
“Captain, you're up.” Nick disclosed.
Steve nods and walks off the bridge. Walking down the hallway he passes Y/n.
“We found Loki he’s In Germany.” Steve informed Y/n as he’s walking down the hallway.
“Radio silence  and now he’s making appearance that’s not strange at all.....You got this Cap now go show him who’s he’s Messing with.”  Y/n sincerely with a smile.
“Yes ma’am.”  Steve said with a fond look and a head nod.
○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○
Outside the Stuttgart Museum, it’s night. Loki is standing in front of the museum, dressed in 21st Century attire with his scepter disguised as a cane. He walks up to the entrance of the gala.
A lavished gala with an orchestra playing is interrupted as the head doctor walks up to the mic.
Inside Helicarrier where Steve's locker is. Steve walks into the locker room. As he approaches to the steel cabinet, the doors already reveal the updated Captain America uniform, along with the famous shield. He stands in silence.
Outside the museum. German guards stand in their positions. One of them is standing on tip of the roof, scoping. He then hears a sound. He looks down. One of his guards is shot with an arrow. He raises his gun. He is shot dead by an arrow. Falls down. Barton and his crew arrive at the doors of the locked science building. Barton looks at the retinal scanner.
He pulls out a Shield eye scanner instrument. Inside the gala, Loki looks from above the museum and descends down to where the head doctor is. As he makes it down and near the stage, he flips his cane the other end. The guard there notices him, pulls out his gun, but Loki clubs his head in. Chaos erupts. Guests begin to leave the museum. Loki grabs the doctor and flips him over onto a marble table of the mythological creatures bilchsteim. Loki pulls out an optical torture device. He plunges down the doctor's eye. The doctor twists in pain.
Outside the museum.
Suddenly from Barton's instrument, a holographic eye of the head doctor appears and the image of the doctor appears on screen. The doors to the facility open. Barton walks in and finds in a cabinet, a glass thermos with a cylinder of iridium. As the crowd runs away, Loki slowly walks out and materializes in his gold armor and helmet. The police arrive and with no hesitation, he blasts the cars, flipping them over and over.
“Kneel before me.” Loki voiced but  crowd ignores him. Three more Loki's appear, surrounding and blocking the crowd from escaping. “I said KNEEL!” Loki yelled. While the crowd quietly kneels, Loki embraces out his arms with a wide smile
“Is not this simpler? Is this not your natural state? It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel.” Loki declared.
As the words resonate to the kneeling crowd, an elder German man refuses to kneel and stands, heroic. “Not to men like you.”
“There are no men like me.” Loki specified.
“There are always men like you.” Elder German Man remarked.
“Look to your elder, people. Let him be an example.” As Loki is about to execute the man with his scepter as the light glows blue. Right as the energy beam shoots out, Captain America arrives, diving in just in time to block the blast with his shield, and knocking down Loki.
“You know, the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing.” Captain America explained
Loki Standing up. “The soldier. A man out of time.”
“I'm not the one who's out of time.” Captain America replied.
From above Captain America, the Quinjet arrives. A machine gun is pointed towards Loki, while Natasha speaks from inside the aircraft.
“Loki, drop the weapon and stand down.”
Like greased lightning, Loki sends a blast of blue at the Quinjet. Natasha maneuvers it just in time, giving Cap the time to throw his shield at Loki. They both began to duke it out. Loki flings Cap to the ground, and then Cap throws his shield, but Loki swats it away. As Cap is knocked down by Loki, the scepter is pointed to Cap's helmet.
“Kneel.” Loki ordered.
“Not today!” Cap flips and knocks him out with his leg. Loki grabs him and flips him over]
“This guy's all over the place.” Natasha mumbled.
Suddenly AC/DC's "Shoot to Thrill" overdrives to the Quinjets speakers.
“Agent Romanoff, did you miss me?” Tony Stark wondered. Both Cap and Loki look up at the sky. Tony flies over in his Iron Man suit and blasts Loki right back to the ground. Iron Man touches down. He stands up and pulls out every piece of weaponry the suit has. “Make your move, Reindeer Games.”
Loki puts up his hands and surrenders. His armour materializes away
“Good move.” Tony said in a level tone.
“Mr. Stark.”
“Captain.”
Part 4
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lonely-teddy-bear · 5 years
Text
The King’s Mate ➳ h.s. au
word count: 1.04k
i’ll try to write them longer but this is just the first chapter. hope you like it! xx
-----------------------------
Chapter one
Humans and werewolves have always existed, werewolves have been known to human kind for so long that it's normal for us to see it. We keep our different lives separate, they have their own towns and their own territory and we have ours. They might have all the wooded land for themselves but it doesn't mean that humans can't live near them in which this is why there is that rule that we follow. All colleges should visit once every season as a mandatory course, but only we can go once. Students can choose when they want to go and it required to choose the course like event because it somehow is a course lecture because we only go to the werewolves territories to learn more about them, to understand them and their history. Some say we also go so the werewolves are able to find their mates.
///////
"So when did you say you were going on the  course trip?" I looked up at my roommate who was across me giving herself a mini pedicure.
"It's this season. I will have to check when it is." I don't know why I had gotten it on fall which is the worst time to go but this was my last semester before I graduated and headed to another school to continue my career plan. I moved away my laptop where I was currently reading a book for my english class. I walked over to the calendar wall to check when the trip was. Running my pointer finger over the calendar looking for the box that has 'course trip' labeled on, and when I did I had to double check the date because it was this Saturday and right now it was Tuesday.
"So when is it?" Kayla, my roommate, said. I turned to look at her and then walked to my bed and sat down. "I have it this Saturday."
She looked up at me, I could see she was trying to figure out what to say.
"This Saturday? Dude we had plans." She stopped painting her toenails and placed the bottle in the small table next to her bed.
"I know, I'm sorry. I should have checked before making any plans with you and the guys." Her boyfriend and one of his friends were coming Saturday because our school and their school were going to play against each other and we planned on going out to a club or to a party but I guess I will have to cancel.
"You should have but it's okay. I know you can't cancel and you can't skip either so I'll just tell them to go out on their own or-"
"Don't cancel plans because of me. You go, and have fun with your boyfriend and his friend. I'm sure he won't last being a third wheel with you two." She chuckled and continued doing her toes.
///////
Saturday couldn't come any faster. After taking my tests Friday I felt less stressed but then had remembered I had to pack at least a bag in case we don't return or in other words we end up becoming someone's mate. I never really liked the idea of going into the woods and never coming out because in this case it has happened so many times before. My first roommate had gone on the trip on her first semester and then I never heard from her again. Apparently she had found the one and was happy on staying and cutting off everyone she knew, even her family. The news didn't settle well with me that night, especially when I got a new roommate.
I had arrived to my dorm expecting to see Kayla but saw an empty room. I send her a text wanting to know her whereabouts but didn't get a text back. I shrugged it off and headed over to my closet to get my over night bag and started packing some essentials.
I didn't want to pack like I wasn't going to come back because I will come back, ready to write an essay on what I learned on the trip.
Around eight in the afternoon Kayla arrived. I had taken a quick nap after finishing packing and eating and even watched Netflix on my laptop.
"Hey! Where have you been?" Kayla looked so excited and happy but why would she ask me where I have been? She's the one that doesn't go out on Friday's because she is resting for her Friday night adventures.
"More like where have you been." She was still standing but she was looking around the closet and searching for something.
"Kayla, are you okay?" She turned to me and walked over to me, her face was glowing and she was so happy, it was scar not going to lie.
"So I might have found the one." I cocked my head to the side and looked at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"As in I have a werewolf boyfriend!" She started dancing around all happy and smiling.
"What about Dante? Where were you anyways?" Where could she have? She was here when I left for classes and she has one online class on Fridays so she wouldn't miss that, so my guess she has been gone since eleven in the morning but where....
"I broke up with Dante. I spend my day at the dean's office doing some paper work because i'm going with you to the trip tomorrow!" I shrieked at the high pitch voice of hers. How could she be so excited about moving to the woods, with some guy she barely knew?
"Do you even know this guy?" I didn't even want to know at this point.
"Yeah I was with him after I left the dean's office. He's so nice and sweet. I cant wait for you to meet him tomorrow!" She grabbed me by my shoulders and shook me back and fort. Is this the effect that is left on the girls? After finding out you have a soulmate who is a werewolf? Well if she is saying the truth, which I believe she is, then I can't wait to meet this mysterious men of hers.
I’m writing the second chapter. dont forget to check out wattpad for any updates! 
Also if you want to be tagged on this series message me or leave a comment and i’ll tag you in this series.
Tag list:
@iam-a-painted-whore @kaepm981 @heautifulharry
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kunrengui · 4 years
Text
just sum venting, ignore :)
dont read if you have like some sort of family issues- trauma or something LOL
my family has been going through a lot of stress in these past 2 years and i feel like im in the only reason this family hasnt lost their minds yet. my dad takes out his stress by screaming at my mom, my mom takes out her stress by screaming at my (younger) brother and me, my brother is NUMB to all disappointment and im genuinely scared because my brother acts psycho and like actually full-on sobs and screams if he isnt allowed to watch vids or play video games all day or the wifi connection is weak or gets cutoff for a moment and thrashes things around but hes 10 and nobody is listening to my pleas of reducing his screen time because they cant deal with his tantrums when they try to. i feel like im losing my brother and then theres my parents who are on the verge of exploding all the time and im always on edge so im never seen scrolling on my phone or watching something kpop related because my parents are fking racist. Im always around the house doing things like getting my moms phone from the kitchen or getting my dad some water as soon as they ask me irrespective of what im doing and like if i hear my parents arguing about who is less tired to turn off the light while im the one actually sleeping i have to get up and turn off the light so my dad doesnt accidentally say something hurtful to my mom and my mom doesnt forget to make breakfast the next morning.
and like recently its been worse cuz my grandfather passed away 2-3 months ago idek it feels like forever so were staying at my grandmothers place that isnt even in the same city and i can feel my mental health deteriorating because i used to live here as a kid and i have a lot of bad memories i want to forget but here i am reliving them. anyways its 4 of us plus my grandmother so that makes 5 people sharing 2 tiny bedrooms a hall and a kitchen but the house feels like its divided into two because my dad and my grandmother dont talk to each other so they just stay on their own side and i share a bedroom with my grandmother and my brother. my brother sleeps in the middle but the bed is actually 2 twin cots with rock-hard matresses from the 1980’s awkwardly put together so the middle is uneven and uncomfortable but my parents wont let him sleep with them because he never lets anyone around him sleep peacefully (explains my eyebags) and he refuses to switch with me so now im also genuinely worried about his back. he also sometimes randomly screams at my grandmother and i glare at him and ask him to stop because its disrespectful but my grandmother screams at me instead because she is partial to him to the point where if she had to push me off a cliff to save him she’d do it in the blink of an eye and im not even exaggerating because this is a fact that everyone who knows her is aware of. shes rich and my family already knows shes going to write off her entire inheritance to my brother and idrc about the money but it hurts. like this one time my mum was talking about how she was going to preserve the land my grandmother owns so my brother can build a farm house there in the future like OKAY i get it we live in an indian society where youre just supposed to marry off the girl and give her 0 inheritance but that shit hurts lady. most of the time i even have to give up my portion of the food when my brother is suddenly in his psychotic mood where he wants other peoples stuff- my grandmother is my brother’s bodyguard, personal attendant and lawyer who’s current job is to either train me to be her successor or if I disagree then turn against me.
i cant blame anyone for the stress part tho. we werent as affected by my grandfathers death as we were by its after affect- he has a business and now my dad has to take care of that and 2 other businesses while also opening a new one and it doesnt help that all 4 require full-time attention. and in hopes of being helpful and fucking fixing this family, i promised to help with the advertising and the managing of the social media accounts of the new business. not even kidding ive been spending the last one month skipping classes saying they were either cancelled or unnecessary to work on photo and video edits for the store and promoting it. idk the last time i touched my textbooks and my parents dont know because im hiding the report cards. my limbs hurt from constantly using the stairs of the 4-floored store.
about half an hour ago my mum told me to refill all the water bottles while i was brushing my teeth and my dad loudly replied with a “Why does everyone give her all the work” out of spite for my mom. everytime he says that it makes me so mad i want to punch the wall because no matter how genuine he is, it sounds sarcastic to me because he makes no effort to help me. and it did NOT help when i lost the soft thing on my earphone 5 minutes later, making me feel like crying because my earphones are the ONLY thing keeping me sane here. the only escape from this. the only excuse i can give my mother when she asks why i didnt hear her call me in such a small house.
i just want to go home. i want my own room back. i want a pair of earphones plugged into my laptop, and i want to drown myself in Kris Wu music. i want to spread my limbs on my queen sized bed and pretend like i have all the time in the world to be bored.
i dont get why we have to go through this when were actually rich. im usually humble about it in rl but atp idec because i really dont get why we have to go through this when we can even afford a house in beverly hills or something. actually, maybe its because my parents dont have enough time or patience left to fix the bed or get a bigger house.
and then i open instagram to see people my age hanging out with their friends, having the time of their lives while im just rotting away here. the only 3 closest friends i have- one just stopped calling me after changing schools and making popular friends and the other blocked my number over some petty fight from months ago. thank the universe im still chatting with my 3rd at least.
but im okay because i tell myself im doing great. im patting myself on my back. im going to go back home at some point and im going to get myself a new pair of earphones.
im proud for staying strong. im proud for not nearing the breaking point. im proud for keeping it up for 2 whole years and im proud that i wouldnt hesitate to continue.
bless you for reading this.
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freetoadloverpanda · 4 years
Text
This is a dabi x hawks x female reader pairing.
You wake up to your two lovers looking at your laptop screen, standing at the end of the bed. Hawks was holding the laptop with a smirk growing on his face, and Dabi was just staring at the screen with wide eyes.
"What're you two looking at?"
Hawks looks over to you and smirks. His finger finds the mouse and presses play, the sounds of two males moaning fill the room. Your eyes widen as you realize you forgot to exit out of the tab you were watching porn on.
"So this is what you do when we are gone little mouse? You get off on watching this stuff?"
Hawks closes the laptop while Dabi stalks over to you. The feeling of a predator sizing up its prey starts to creep into your chest. With everystep Dabi takes towards you, you scoot closer to the headboard of the bed. Eventually you feel the cold hard wood press against your back. Now you really had nowhere to go.
"Do we not satisfy you enough when we get home Baby Bird?"
You shake your head no answering Hawks question.
"Maybe your just that horny huh? You really are a bitch in heat."
Dabi sits on the edge of the bed and starts to take off his tattered jacket. Hawks sits on the other side of the bed and starts to undress as well. Realization hits you. You wont be getting any sleep tonight if they have their way. Wanting to be able to walk tomorrow a plan starts to form in your mind.
With a single leap you make it to the door leading to the hall outside your bedroom and bolt towards the living room. The only way you will be able to get out of your current predicament with your lovers is to play keep away, or tire them out. Running down the stairs into the living room, you round the couch and look at the bottom of the staircase.
You hear two sets of footsteps slowly descend the stairs and you soon find yourself staring into the faces of one pissed off Hawks and one smirking Dabi. The room suddenly feels hot and your panties start to cling a little to close to your heat.
"Now why would you run like that from us Baby Bird?"
"I uh.... Um.... I would like to walk tomorrow."
"You would like to, but we dont want you too Little Mouse."
Dabi points to his left and Hawks starts to move that way while Dabi moves to his right. They creep closer and closer, slowly like they were approaching a cornered animal. Only one option is left if you dont want to be captured. You run forward and vault over the coach.
Running toawrds the kitchen you reach the threshold before you are picked up and slung over a shoulder. Crimson feathers stare back at you as you struggle to get out of Hawks grip. Dabi follows you two and is chuckling lowly to himself as you are forcibly taken back to the bedroom.
You struggle harder knowing you are so close to defeat when a sharp pain blossoms acroos your left butt cheek. A small yelp leaves your lips.
"If I'd had known you would stop struggling if I spanked you I would have done it sooner."
"Thats something to remember for later tonight."
Knowing your fate is sealed you hang your head down and pray that Hawks and Dabi might take it easy on you. You feel yourself fly through the air before landing on something soft and bouncing a little.
"How bout a truce? It was just a one time thing ok guys? I just missed you two thats all!"
You can hear the panic in your voice as you try to persuade them.
"Even more reason to help you out now Baby Bird."
Two sets of arms wrap around your torso. You struggle and manage to get Hawks off of you but Dabi wasnt budging.
"In the dressor on my side, second drawer down is some rope. Hawks I would hurry, she is really feisty right now."
You hear shuffling and before long your hands are tied to the headboard and your lovers are staring at you. Even with your Pj's on you feel vulnerable, like they were undressing you with their eyes.
"I'll..."
"No you wont be a good girl little mouse. So now its time for your punishment for running away from us."
You watch as Dabi descends towards your heat and Hawks yet again walks to the dressor. Dabi breathes on your heat for a while before he burries his face in your cunt. Moans are being ripped from your throat as his tounge enters you. The bed dips down and you feel something being wrapped arround your neck.
"There! Now if you do run away people will know who to return you too."
Hawks hands start to wander down from your neck to your breasts as he starts to play with them. Gasping for air now, you try to wiggle your hips to move away from Dabi but to no avail. He roughly plunges two fingers into your dripping heat and starts moving them at a fast pace.
"Aahhhh! P-p-please! Not.... So.... FAST!!"
Your body convulses as your orgasm hits you hard. Dabi however doesnt stop his relentless pace. In and out, in and out he plunges his fingers pushing you over the edge again and again.
"Dabi, I have an idea."
The fingers are removed as Dabi turns to Hawks motioning for him to continue. Hawks crawls over to Dabi and grabs the fingers that were in you and licks them clean.
"Why dont we give y/n a show? She clearly liked watching those other guys."
Dabi smirks and crashes his lips onto Hawks. All the while you are left to watch with your mouth open. The two men fight over dominance. Back and forth until Hawks pushes Dabi down onto his back. Spitting into his hand Hawks rubs Dabis dick and guides it to his awaiting hole. He sinks down slowly moaning a bit louder than he usually does just for you. Dabi on the other hand was quietly groaning, finally feeling the relief he was looking for.
Not liking being on the bottom Dabi flips over and starts to pound into Hawks. You squeeze your legs together to try and relieve some of the built up pressure. Two hands grab your thighs and pulls them apart stopping your movement. Whimpering you stare into Hawks golden eyes, silently pleading for some relief.
"Not yet Baby Bird. We... Aaaaahhh!"
Hawks body convulses in front of you as he comes. Dabi pulls out and finishes himself off making sure to cover your pussy with his cum. Pulling on your restraints you try to do something! Anything!
"Please!"
"Please what princess?"
Dabi grabs your chin and forces you to look at him.
"Please, fuck... Me."
Your face flushes a bright red from begging as Hawks enters you. Your back arches at the full feeling and you moan.
"Such a good Baby Bird. Why dont we give you something special so you stay satisfied?"
"Yeah, why dont we double stuff our naughty little slut?"
You feel your pussy clench at the words.
"Oh, you like that? You like when we call you our little slut and ravage this pussy?"
You quickly shake your head no. Your pride not letting you answer honestly.
"Your pussy says otherwise little mouse."
You can feel Dabi's dick press against your already full pussy. Your eyes widen as your breathe is knocked out of you when he fully sheathes himself in your warm insides. Setting a brutal pace both of them pummel in and out of you. While one pushes in the other pulls out like a well oiled fucking machine. You cant help but cum after a few minutes of this treatment.
Not long after, you feel hot spurts of liquid fill your cunt up.
"Well, that was certainly satisfying."
"You were right Baby Bird. You wont be walking tomorrow."
They descended on you again.
Finish! This is my first time writing something like this. I hope you enjoyed if you read this far!
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iceeckos12 · 4 years
Text
dont spare the horses
Summary: Jon and Martin get domestic. The next logical step is to adopt some cattle.
did i write jonmartin fluff of post-159? I did! spoilers for 159 and everything that happens after. canon divergence after 160. warnings for attempted selfharm.
title is taken from ‘home’ by bruno major.
“How much work is it,” Martin wonders, “To take care of cattle?”
Jon lowers the book he’s reading so he can study Martin’s face. Jon is sitting on one end of the couch, and Martin is leaning against the arm, his feet propped up on Jon’s lap. Jon knows and he Knows what Martin’s face looks like, but it doesn’t hurt to study it again, just in case he’s missed any important details. Like the freckle under Martin’s right eye.
Then Jon remembers that he’s just been asked a question, and his partner is probably expecting for him to take advantage of the remnants of his Beholding powers to answer. Jon closes his eyes and reaches for the embers of it, slowly smoldering away in his soul. It gets harder and harder to find it each time. He thinks that it’s a good thing.
(Sometimes he misses the constant flow of information, the high of all the knowledge in the world at his fingertips.)
He sifts for a couple of seconds through useless information—the Highland cattle breed is the oldest registered breed in the world, happy cows make more milk—before finding what he’s looking for. He sighs and looks up into Martin’s expectant, cow-brown eyes and says, “They’re relatively low maintenance, apparently. I think they require a bit more space than we currently own, though.”
Martin hums and lowers his head to his laptop, apparently satisfied with that answer. Jon watches him for another second, before leaning back into the couch and finding where he’d left off on the page.
It’s not long before Martin speaks again. “How much do you think this safehouse would fetch?”
Jon doesn’t have to be an avatar of omniscience to know where this conversation is going, and how it will end. He would be happy to live out the rest of his days in quiet contentment in their cozy little safehouse, reading his books while Martin publishes award-winning poetry (he feels a little bit like a trophy wife, if he’s being honest. He finds that he doesn’t mind it in the slightest). But if Martin wants to move to somewhere with wide open spaces so they can raise herds of adorable little cows, then Jon will do what he can to make it happen.
Jon closes the book and squeezes Martin’s ankle. “I don’t think we’re allowed to sell Daisy’s safehouse without her permission. Do you want to call her or should I?”
Martin beams at Jon, and Jon thinks that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make Martin look at him like that again.
-0-
In the end, it’s Basira that saves them.
Three weeks into their stay at the safehouse, they’re woken by a phone call at two in the morning. Jon lets out a confused sound and makes to get out of bed, but Martin shushes him and tucks the blanket over his shoulders, and tells him to go back to sleep. The lack of statements has made Jon weak and tired, and sleep is more important than it ever has been.
Martin picks up the phone. The dirt in the floorboards is rubbing against his feet, and he’s still getting used to the way a chill seems to permeate the entire building in the middle of the night.
“Hello?” Martin murmurs, voice quieted by both his desire not to wake Jon and his proximity to sleep.
“Martin, is that you?” Basira asks, and there’s something in her voice that makes him stand straight up and pay attention. Something is wrong. “It’s Basira.”
“Uh, hi Basira,” Martin pushes his hair back from his face, flicking a gaze into their darkened bedroom. Should he wake Jon? “Something the matter?”
“I put together a bunch of statements for Jon, like I promised,” Basira begins, and there’s a soft rustle in the background. Paper? “I found something.”
Martin sits down slowly, finding and squeezing the edge of the small cardtable that they’ve been eating their meals at the past couple of weeks. “Okay…?”
“Elias—no,” Basira lets out a low, shuddering sigh. “Jonah was going to use Jon to start the apocalypse”
“What?” Martin gapes.
Basira’s voice is shaking slightly, cut through with horror. Martin has never heard her like this, not even when Daisy went missing. “He’s had everything planned right from the beginning—Prentiss, Sasha, whatever the fuck happened to his hand—he was planning on turning Jon into some—some sort of ritual to end the world—”
Martin thinks about the man lying in their bed, made small and terrified by repeated exposure to a world that made him very, constantly afraid. He thinks about the slow spiral, the hunger that ate at what was left of Jon’s humanity, piece by bloody piece. He squeezes the table, and imagines Jonah Magnus’ thrumming pulse beneath his fingertips. “Basira—”
“I wouldn’t have noticed,” she sounds tired, thready, “But there was a spider sitting in the middle of the page, and it drew my attention, and I read—”
“Did you burn it?” Martin demands, the world tilting on its axis like a top. If Basira didn’t burn it, then he will go to London himself.
“Of course I did,” Basira says, and Martin lets out his breath. “Of course I burned it. But Martin, you have to be careful.”
“We will,” he whispers. “You as well.”
“And tell Jon that I’m sorry,” she adds, and then hangs up the phone.
Martin lets the hand holding the phone fall to his thigh. His world is still spinning about him, thoughts jumbled and hazy and all he can think about is that stupid fucking birthday party, where Elias had sang ‘Archivist’ instead of Jon, and Martin hadn’t thought anything of it.
God. Jon.
Martin drops the phone and walks to the doorway of their bedroom, examining the small lump under the blankets. Jon’s long, black-and-grey hair is fanned out over the pillow, and his hands are curled into fists. His face is smooth, free of stress and fear, and for a moment Martin burns at the thought of Jonah Magnus, who’d looked at this nervous, bright man and thought, I will destroy the world with you.
If Jonah was here, Martin thinks, fingers twitching.
But then he sighs, because while Jonah Magnus is not here, Jon is. He comes around to his side of the bed and lifts the covers, sliding in beside Jon, who lets out a fuzzy, confused sound and rolls toward him.
“What was it?” he asks sleepily.
Martin takes Jon’s hand in his, rubbing his thumbs over the scarred knuckles, and says, “Nothing. Sleep. I’ll tell you in the morning.”
-0-
“What do you think about chickens?” Jon asks Martin.
Martin looks up from the flower he was admiring and blinks. It’s a perfect day for once, no clouds on the horizon, and the breeze has picked up just enough to be refreshing. The meadowgrass is soft and forgiving beneath their hesitant footsteps as they stroll arm-in-arm through the fields.
“Well, I mean…” Martin wrinkles his nose endearingly. “I’ve heard that chickens are kind of mean, actually.”
“Not quite as good as cows,” Jon agrees, “But it’d be nice not to have to buy eggs. And we have the space for it, now. We wouldn’t have to get too many.”
Martin studies him, as though searching for some ulterior motives. It’s different from the way people used to look at him at the archives, when that sort of suspicion is warranted. It’s almost playful, a warm smile teasing at one end of his lips. “Is there a particular reason why you want chickens?”
“Well…” Jon frowns, now trying to decide whether or not his reasoning for wanting chickens is embarrassing.
They have a real cottage now, rather than the rickety old safehouse. It’s warm and cozy, with clean white walls meant to be filled with photographs, and thick carpets that are wonderful to wiggle your toes on. More importantly, they are now the proud owners of a few acres of land, perfect for raising lazy herds of cattle.
“It’s just—when you’re raising farm animals,” Jon begins carefully, “I thought it was...standard to have chickens around as well.” It made sense, the way arithmetic made sense. One plus two equals three. People who raise farm animals have chickens, even if they’re not technically a chicken farm.
Martin lets out a light, surprised laugh, his hand finding Jon’s. “Jon do you—do you actually want chickens because you want chickens, or do you want chickens because you like the idea of having chickens?”
Jon feels a flush rise in his cheeks, but he stands his ground. “It’d be useful to have a bunch of chickens around.”
Martin shakes his head and presses a warm, fond kiss to Jon’s temple, like he simply can’t help himself. Jon tightens his hand around Martin’s. “Alright then,” Martin says, “We can get some chickens as well. On the condition that I don’t have to take care of them.”
“Come on,” Jon laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t be mean to my chickens.”
“These are still metaphorical chickens,” Martin corrects. “Who I will not defend you from if they decide to turn on you.”
“Liar,” Jon shakes his head again and smiles, and tucks his arm in Martin’s. They continue ambling onward, the scent of rain and fresh earth rising in the air around them.
-0-
Understandably, Jon does not take it well.
Martin is quiet as Jon falls apart, piece by piece, bit by painful bit. He is quiet as Jon grabs at his hair and makes muffled, heartbroken sounds into his knees, when he reasons out loud with himself, with Jonah. It’s only when Jon grabs a knife and almost gouges his own eyes out that Martin finally intervenes, wrestling the knife from Jon’s grip. Jon collapses into Martin’s lap, weeping, and Martin is crying too, just like he knew he would be if he spoke out loud.
Jon falls asleep against Martin. Martin doesn’t dare move, even when his whole body is screaming at the position.
Martin grimly screens all of their mail after that, every transcript that comes into their house. Jon is a skittish thing, hovering at the edges of the room as Martin scans page after page, starving but terrified of the idea of posing a danger to the world.
He tries to wean himself off the statements as best he’s able. At first he records once every couple of days, then once every four, going as long between each read as he can stand. Martin wishes that he knew how to soothe the worry, but Jon isn’t the only one recovering from the influence of a fear entity. The Lonely has made it hard for him to talk about things that need to be said.
They figure it out, though. Martin starts writing poetry again, figuring out how to put words to paper, figuring out how to put himself to paper. Jon stops beating himself up for choices he didn’t make and crimes that he didn’t commit. Because what else can they do? Sit still? They just didn’t end the world; it only makes sense that they try to at least enjoy it.
Slowly, they figure it out. 
-0-
And so, Martin and Jon get some cows.
Martin is in charge of naming the cows. The first one they get is an older cow, a sweet, shaggy brown one Martin quickly names Henrietta. Martin is quite taken with her, always rubbing at the white star on her nose. The second one is a bull, a bit younger than Henrietta but no less sweet. He is dubbed Jackson, and he has a particular fondness for butting his head against your shoulder when you’re not paying attention.
Jon is deeply amused by the way Martin fawns over their cows. He rises well before Jon to feed them, and is usually still gone by the time the rest of the world wakes up. Jon can usually find Martin in the field, prattling away to Henrietta and Jackson, who are a surprisingly attentive audience. Sometimes, Martin even reads them some of his poetry.
Jon is quite taken with the cows as well, if he’s being honest. When he sees Martin in the fields in the morning, dew just beginning to burn off the grass, he’ll climb the fence and pat Henrietta’s star, and Jackson will chew lazily on his sleeve. Martin will beam at him, face gently lit in the rising sun.
Jon is, under no uncertain circumstances, in charge of the chickens. He is in charge of figuring out how to put up the chicken coop, putting up the chicken coop, but most importantly, naming the chickens. Jon’s never been good at naming anything, so he secretly picks the names from old statements. Martin thinks it’s hilarious that there are chickens running around with names like ‘Susan’ and ‘Laura’. The big rooster that Jon buys, that runs around and shrieks menacingly at you until you give him a swift kick, is dubbed, ‘Jonah’, because Jon has always been a bit of a bastard.
They still get letters from the Institute. Jon knows that they do, because each time Martin finds one, his face scrunches up with an awful, alien anger. The letter is quickly reduced to ash in their fireplace, though. Basira tells them all they need to know about the Institute these days, and they have better things to do.
-0-
“So what now?” Jon whispers.
Martin looks down at Jon, who is curled as close against Martin’s side as he is physically able. His long, black-grey hair is pulled into a loose ponytail that spills over and down one shoulder, and his glasses are tucked in his collar. Time has done a good job at wearing down some of his hard edges.
Martin tucks Jon’s bangs behind his ear and lets his hand rest there, gently caressing. Jon sighs and covers it with his own, still watching Martin with those dark, expectant eyes. 
“I suppose now…” he trails off, thinking about the Institute, about the safehouse where they now live. Thinking about good cows, and the nightmares they can’t seem to shake, and meadowsweet, and the I love you’s, and the affection so kind that Martin had almost been in tears the first time he felt it.
“I suppose now,” he decides firmly, “we get to live.”
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steebharringt0n · 5 years
Text
Shadows of the Night | Vampire AU
dusk | night | dawn
Billy Hargrove doesn’t remember the last time he’s seen sunlight, or the last time he’s stepped inside a church. For over 500 years he’s been a vagabond, a wanderer, searching for a place to call home - until his travels land him in Hawkins, Indiana and his whole existence as he knows it is turned upside down.
pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader rating: m (blood, a tint of smut, abuse, language)
A/N: WOW SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER TO POST BUT THANK U FOR ALL THE RESPONSES AND FOR YOUR PATIENCE ILU ALL
Tagged: @killer-queen-xo @ephmrl-love @charmed-asylum @aillle8 @mattysheelies
Part 2 - Night
You were panicking.
Your foot was glued to the gas pedal, racing to beat the clock as time continued to dwindle by. You cursed the long and windy roads in Hawkins, they felt like they went on forever.
Stealthily and quickly, you managed to switch out of your heels and fishnet stockings while driving, it was a skill that was now second nature to you. Reaching behind you, you grabbed your converse, shoving one foot in at a time while you pulled over a large sweatshirt over you, effectively covering the skin tight dress you had on.
As soon as you pulled into your street, you made a sharp stop before your house. Grabbing the makeup wipes from your glove compartment, you hurriedly erased any evidence, wiping the ruby red lipstick off your lips, and the fake vampire bite off of your neck.
Incidentally, you also managed to wipe away the concealer that hid the dark purple marks around your neck.
You ran your hand through your hair, trying your best to smooth out the large curls that bounced with every shake of your head. When you felt presentable enough, you finally pulled into your driveway. Your eyes were glued to the front window where the faint glow of the TV was illuminating the living room floor.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you quietly muttered to yourself.
You threw your heels and fishnet stockings in the back of your car, grabbing your large purse that you had purposely placed there as well. Stepping out of your car, you composed yourself, trying hard to calm your frantic beating heart. With a deep inhale, you took the cautious steps up your porch, opening the front door and was greeted with the harsh scent of beer hitting your nose.
“D-dad? I-I’m home”
You tip-toed in the foyer, poking your head into the living room where you were met with the back of your father’s head, several beer cans were discarded around his feet.
You waited for a response, for anything, but were met with silence.
Silence was either a bad thing, or a good thing. You held your breath as you quietly walked over to him, your eyes shut as you pleaded to whatever gods above that he was passed out. When you finally reached him, you let out a sigh of relief.
He was knocked out, his mouth wide open with a half empty beer can in his hand.
You didn’t want him to spill the beer, so you gently reached over to his hand, trying your best to pull it out of his grasp but his other hand suddenly shot to your wrist, squeezing it tight. A yelp escaped from your mouth.
“You’re late” he slurred.
Your anxiety was through the roof, tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “I-I’m sorry Dad, Amber and I lost track of time at dinner, I promise it won’t happen again” you blubbered out, hoping that he’d believe your lie. He wasn’t easing up on his grip, but after a few seconds he threw your wrist back to you.
“Don’t let it fucking happen again” he hissed, taking a large chug.
You nodded quietly at him, your other hand gently rubbing where his painful grip was. You were sure to see marks on it tomorrow but you were an expert at covering up your bruises.
You soundlessly made your way upstairs, not wanting to rile him up any longer. You shut your bedroom door and rested your back behind it, sliding down and letting all the anxiety disseminate in that moment. You held your face in your hands, trying to remember to breathe through it all.
He wasn’t always like this. You have fond memories of a happy childhood, white picket fence and all. But out of the blue, your mother had up and left the both of you, claiming that this wasn’t the life for her. She had disappeared into thin air and you hated her for it.
It was then your father turned to drinking and started to blame you for everything. His problems at his job? Your fault. Your mother leaving the both of you? Your fault. His alcoholism? Your fault.
Everything in his eyes was your fault, you could do no right, even when you pulled the best grades in Hawkins.
You became his punching bag, his release for all his anger, his issues, and you had no escape.
You lifted your head back up and glanced up at the calendar that rested above your desk. November 7th had a large circle over it, it would be the day you turned 18 - it would be the day you finally could escape his wrath.
“Just one more week, just one more week and I’m outta here” you muttered to yourself.
You weren’t sure where to go, but you didn’t care. Since you were still 17 you weren’t legally allowed to leave the house yet. You graduated from Hawkins High with top marks but you decided to put university on pause - wanting to taste the world before you settled on school again. You had some money saved up from odd jobs here and there but you wanted to stay far away from the monster in the living room. He would effectively have no power over you and for the first time in your life, you felt like life wouldn’t be so bad.
You felt your phone buzzing, you pulled it out of your sweatshirt and swiped it open.
amber: hey u made it home ok?
y/n: yeah, i’m home thnx for checking up
Amber was your best friend, she had urged you multiple times to go talk to Hopper, but you knew it would just cause more issues than solve them. You were strong, you could withstand him for just one more week.
Your mind suddenly remembered the pale boy with the vampire costume. You quickly searched through your contacts until you found his name. Your thumb hovered over the texting symbol, debating on whether bringing a boy into your life would be worth it.
But something about him was … different … you couldn’t put your finger on it but he seemed off. He was incredibly gorgeous though, and you were surprised that he, out of all people in the party, paid any attention to you. Not to mention you had never seen the guy before, and everyone in Hawkins knew everyone.
“Fuck it” you said to yourself.
y/n: hey billy, it’s y/n from the party?
Instantly the text bubble appeared, you were surprised at how quickly he responded.
billy: hey gorgeous, sad to see you leave so early
What you didn’t know however, was that he was parked right across the street. His eyes were hyper-focused on your bedroom window. He was debating on whether scaling the tree or just watching you from afar. He knew it was a creep move but he didn’t care, he just wanted to make sure you were safe.
You let out a snort as you read his text.
y/n: ha, quite the charmer are you?
billy: i tend to charm the ladies here and there, what r u up to tonite?
y/n: bed, maybe watch some netflix, nothing too crazy.
billy: when can i see u again?
Billy was impatient, he had to catch a glimpse of you before the day broke again.
y/n: idk … we could hang tomorrow? maybe grab lunch?
An innocent lunch wouldn’t hurt you thought to yourself. What’s the harm in getting to know a cute boy?
Billy let out a huff, damn being a vampire.
billy: can’t, i’m busy all day and afternoon. maybe we can grab dinner if u want? i can pay ;)
You felt your heart start to race. Was he asking you out on a date? He hardly knew you.
y/n: r u asking me out on a date? lol
billy: if you want it to be
y/n: you hardly know me
billy: i can get to know you tomorrow night
A tiny smile appeared on your lips.
y/n: sure lol. pick me up tomorrow at 8. my address is 3843 willow lane. dont knock on my door just give me a text when youre here.
billy: sounds good, sweet dreams gorgeous ;)
You locked your phone and tossed it onto your bed. You stood back up, pulling off your sweatshirt and kicking off your converse. You unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the ground and pulled on a pair of cotton shorts and your Hawkins High sweatshirt.
You grabbed your laptop from your desk and walked over to your bed, pulling over the covers and settling yourself into the warmth of your comforter. You opened up your laptop and proceeded to open up Netflix to help you fall asleep.
Billy’s leg impatiently bounced up and down as he sat in his car. He watched as the light in your room turned off and as the light in the living room also turned off. He figured whoever was in the living room had also gone to bed, so he decided to make a move.
Moving stealthily and quickly, he ran over to your lawn, hoping that none of the neighbors would spot him. With his cat like reflexes he climbed up the tree outside of your room with ease, perching himself on a large branch that luckily extended out to your room.
His eyes scanned your bedroom, posters of different bands were hung up on your wall, a white desk sat in the corner, but his heart leapt when he finally landed on your sleeping figure. The soft glow of the laptop illuminated your face as you quietly slept through whatever TV show you were watching.
Even with your hair messily scattered on the pillow and your cheek pressed up against your arm you looked beautiful, breathtakingly gorgeous. His fingers were aching to touch you, even if just for a second.
“Oh fuck this”
His hands found themselves on the bottom of your window, he gently lifted it up, opening enough space for him to squeeze into your bedroom. With a soft thud, he landed into your room.  He waited a second to see if anyone or anything had been awakened by the noise, but luckily he was met with silence.
He walked over to your sleeping figure, he so badly wanted to crawl right beside you and hold you against his body but he fought strongly against it. He instead, sat right beside you, watching you as your chest rose and fell with every breath you took.
His fingers found themselves playing with the tendrils of your hair. He gently pulled back your hair to reveal your supple neck, but his eyes widened at what he saw instead.
Hot anger coursed through his body like poison. His eyes turned a dark red and his fangs promptly appeared. Billy was ready to attack, and your panicked demeanor at the party suddenly made sense to him.
His knuckles brushed up against the dark marks on your neck. The feeling of your skin on his hand sent shivers down his spine, it soothed his anger as it slowly dissipated out of him. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.
“I promise to get you out of here … if it’s the last thing I do” he whispered to you.
He felt you stir in your sleep, shifting around soundlessly. You cracked open your eyes as you felt a figure hover over you. You lifted your head up, looking around your bedroom.
But there was no one there, just the soft breeze of the wind rustling your posters in your bedroom.
You frowned, throwing your legs over your bed and walking to your window. You poked your head out, looking to see if anyone was out there, but you were met with the still of the night.
You shut your window close and threw yourself back into bed.
“Huh, must have been dreaming … “ you said to yourself as sleep quickly overtook you again.
You awoke the following morning with a stinging pain in your wrist. You lifted it up, inspecting the dull ache as the dark marks began to stain your skin. You let out an annoyed sigh, walking over to your bathroom and promptly starting a hot shower.
After washing your hair and scrubbing your skin, you then did your usual routine of concealing your bruises. You popped some Tylenol in hopes that it would soothe the ache in your wrist.
You waited to see if Billy would text you throughout the day, but you were disappointed to find that he didn’t. You didn’t let it deter you from the date you had planned with him tonight.
You stayed in your bedroom for most of Saturday, only heading downstairs to grab a bite to eat. Your father mostly ignored your presence as you did his.
As it was nearing 8, you went downstairs to the living room to find your father still glued to the couch with a beer in his hand.
“Dad?”
His eyes were glued to the TV. He acknowledged your presence by letting out a grunt.
“I’m gonna grab dinner with Amber tonight if that’s okay … “ your voice trailed off as you anxiously chewed the inside of your cheek.
He rolled his eyes towards you, they were glossy and bloodshot.
“Fine”
You nodded at him, uttering a thank you and walking back up stairs. As soon as you reached your bedroom, you began to plan your outfit, You figured jeans and a cute top would be good enough for tonight. You kept your makeup simple, some mascara and lipgloss, you weren’t necessarily trying to woo him tonight, just getting to know him.
It was only a date anyways.
At 8 on the dot your phone buzzed, you were trying to play it cool, but you were lying to yourself if you said you didn’t feel a little excited. You hadn’t been on a date in a long time, let alone with a gorgeous boy.
billy: hey beautiful, i’m outside
Grabbing a light jacket, you walked down the stairs, trying not to seem hurried in front of your dad.
“I’ll be back around 10 dad” you told him as you left. But yet again, you were met with silence. You were trying not to let anxiety gnaw at your stomach, you refused to let your dad ruin your date. So you quietly left your house and ran over to the blue car that was parked across the street.
Billy was lucky enough to find a close friend of Walt’s living in the next town over. He had texted Walt around 4 AM to see if he could spot anyone who could house him for the next couple of days. Victoria Marino - a sweet old vampire who had lived for almost as long as Walt was happy enough to have Billy stay over. It had been years since she had company, especially a vampire stay at her home.
“Walt told me everything” she told him. Billy towered over her, she was a frail little thing, but was sharp as hell. She gently grasped his shoulders, “You musn’t give up on love Billy, fight for her. Finding your Beloved is a powerful thing for us vampires, human or not”
He was more than happy to have someone on his side - even though he knew Walt was still vehemently against all of this.
You caught him standing outside his car, a pair of aviators rested against his nose, his mouth in a wide grin. His heart sped up as you approached him, he instinctively wished to scoop you up in his arms and place kisses all over you, hold you close until the dawn broke, but instead he controlled himself as you stood in front of him.
With a soft smile you greeted him, “Hi”
He returned the smile back, “Hey”
He promptly then walked over to the passenger side, opening the door for you, “Our reservation at Enzo’s awaits for us”
You raised your eyebrows, “Enzo’s? That’s pretty expensive, you didn’t have to go all out”
Billy shrugged, “It’s no big thing, it is the nicest place in town”
You stared at him for a brief second, wondering why on earth this guy you’d just met was pulling all the stops for you. With the slight shake of your head you let out a soft laugh and entered his car. You gazed around in awe at how nice his car was, everything looked brand new, it even still had that brand new smell.
“Holy shit you have a really nice car” you told him as he sat down in the driver’s seat.
“Ah, you should have seen my 78′ Camaro, that engine purred”
“Big car guy eh?”
A smirked donned on his lips, “Yeah, I guess you could say that”
The car ride to Enzo’s was filled with good music and Billy asking you 101 questions about yourself - which you didn’t mind, but you found it odd that whenever you asked about his family, he instantly changed the subject. Anything personal about him was very vague and very brief.
You didn’t want to admit to yourself that it raised warning bells in your head, you wanted to stay positive about the experience, hopeful that maybe this guy would be the one you’d spend the rest of your life with.
He was a gentleman the whole way there, letting you pick the music, not speaking over you, genuinely interested in everything you had to say. It was refreshing to say the least.
When the both of you arrived at Enzo’s he instantly ran out and over to your side, opening the door for you. He extended his hand for you to take and you took it, gently pulling you out of your seat.
He tossed his key to the valet parking, “Take care of her will ya buddy?” he patted the guy on his shoulder, handing him a 50 dollar bill.
fuck I think this guy is loaded you thought to yourself.
Billy wrapped his arm around you, the both of you walking step by step into the restaurant. The gesture made you feel all warm and tingly inside, for once in your life you actually felt safe around a male presence.
The two of you were quickly seated, Billy specifically asking for a private table.
“Of course Mr. Hargrove, please follow me” the host said.
With his arm still wrapped around your shoulder, you glanced up at him, “Billy, seriously, you didn’t have to go all out … you only just met me yesterday … “ you muttered to him.
He shook his head as he pulled your chair out for you, “No, please, this is nothing” he waved your comment off.
You sat down on the chair, watching as Billy came around and sat across from you.
The entire dinner went pleasantly well. Besides some things that made you raise your eyebrow (He told you he was deathly allergic to garlic, and he rarely ate his food, just picked around it). Billy was nothing but kind, warming and inviting to you. It helped that he was charming as hell, and by the time dinner finished, you could see yourself going on another date with him - which usually doesn’t happen.
The drive back to your house was filled with laughter and long talks. You both bonded over bands and artists you both love, about movies, about tv shows. You truly didn’t want the night to end. As he pulled up across the street from your house you hesitated on leaving, anxiety started to pool within your stomach, dreading to be back in the same house as that monster you called your father.
“This was an amazing night Billy, truly, the most fun I’ve had in such a long time” you told him.
He gave you a wide grin, shrugging casually, “Well what can I say?”
The both of you stared at each other in silence, your eyes moving down to his lips. Courage surged through you and you leaned towards him, your one hand placed on his cheek as you placed your lips on his. Billy was surprised to say the least, his blue eyes widened in shock as he felt your soft lips on his, but the shock quickly wore off as he melted into your touch. The warmth of your hand burned the cold of his cheek. You gently pulled away, nuzzling your nose onto his.
Breathlessly, he spoke, “Does this mean I get to see you again?”
You nodded, your thumb rubbing soft circles over the apple of his cheek, “Text me tonight?”
Instead of responding, he placed a chaste kiss on your lips. He wanted the feeling of your lips on his to last forever, and now that he knew he was open to kiss you, he never wanted to stop.
He watched as you got out of his car and made your way back into your house. Before you opened the front door however, you turned around, faced his car and gave him a small wave.
You shut the door quietly behind you, resting your body on it. You had a crush and it was bad. You were grinning like a fool in love and for the first time, in a very long time, things didn’t seem so bad.
You quietly then walked through the foyer until you reached the living room. The TV still on from earlier, and your dad still sitting in the same position. You poked your head in, “Hi dad, I’m back … it’s 9:45 … I’m early” you meekly announced to him.
He gave you no response as he continued to chug his beer. You took that as a good sign.
The minute you reached your bedroom, your phone started to buzz. Instantly you pulled it out of your pocket and smiled stupidly at the text.
billy: did u make it in okay?
y/n: yes im fine lol, i want to see you again … is tomorrow a possibility?
billy: hmm … idk … dinner was kinda boring … ;)
y/n: ha ha ha very funny
billy: of course we can meet up again tomorrow, id love to
y/n: great! i want to take you to the quarry, its amazing, u can see all the stars out there
billy: getting all romantical on me now?
y/n: hey you started this lol, besides a little romance with a cute guy never hurt anyone
billy: you calling me cute?
y/n: duh who else would i be referring to?
Your fingers had never been more glued to your phone. You spent all night texting Billy until you ended up passing out with your phone gripped in your hand. By the time you had passed out, Billy was already getting ready for bed. Victoria had been watching him the whole time as he sat in her living room couch, his fingers typing away furiously with every text he received. Billy swore he heard her mutter an ‘Oy, youths … ‘ at one point which made him chuckle.
It was almost noon by the time you had awakened, the sun beamed in brightly through your bedroom windows. You pulled your phone towards you to check the time but was surprised to see a text from Billy at 4:04 AM.
billy: sweet dreams beautiful girl … <3
The text sent butterflies swarming to your stomach, you threw a pillow over your face to cover up the shit-eating grin you were currently sporting, but a sudden loud banging from your door quickly dissolved all of those emotions.
“There’s no fucking food in the house! Make yourself useful for once and go shopping!”
Your father’s voice roared behind the door, instinctively you pulled the covers over your head, fearing that he was going to come in and hurl more insults at you. But when you heard his footsteps continue down the hall you let out a sigh of relief.
You then quickly got ready for the day, running out towards the local market and buying food for you and your father - not that you ate most of the time at home, you were always feeling too nervous or anxious to eat at home. So you always made excuses to meet up with friends to grab lunch or dinner at a cafe or restaurant nearby.
You were hoping to hear back from Billy throughout the day, but just like the day before he was silent, not a call or text from him. You tried not to let it get to you, you distracted yourself by cleaning up around your room, or watching a show on Netflix, but by the time the sun had started to set you finally received a text from him.
billy: hey beautiful, im on the way
Billy too had fallen asleep in his coffin with his phone glued to his hand. You were the first thing on his mind the instant he awoke - already forming plans for the two of you.
Victoria was kind enough to always lay a full glass of blood for him every morning. The last thing she needed was a love-struck vampire to go into blood-lust mode, there’s no way a vampire can control their actions when going into that head space. They become vicious, relentless and absolutely terrifying. It has happened to Billy only once before and if it wasn’t for Walt being around he was pretty sure that Billy would have slaughtered more humans than intended.
You swiped your phone to unlock it, fingers working quickly as you texted him back,
y/n: c ya soon ;)
You held your phone close to your chest when you realized that you were nowhere ready to go out looking the way you did. You threw your phone on your bed, quickly hopping into the shower and prepping your face. You kept your outfit casual again, with a pair of high-rise jeans, black boots and a cute sweater.
When you heard your phone buzzing, signaling that Billy was outside, you realized one important detail - telling your father that you’d be going out.
There was no way you were going to miss hanging out with Billy, but you knew that if you were to tell your drunk of a father that you were heading out without notifying him earlier, that there was no way that he’d let you out. You glanced over at your window, it was the only option left.
You opened up your window, poking your head outside. Billy watched you with curious eyes from his car as you shimmied out of your bedroom window, reaching towards the large branch from the tree outside your room. Once you were safely perched on the branch, you were able to quickly scale down the large oak tree. You landed softly on the grass, taking in your surroundings before making a mad dash to the car parked across the street.
Billy unlocked his car as you flung open the passenger side door, quickly sitting down and pulling the seat belt over you.
Billy wasn’t stupid - he knew exactly what was going on since he saw the dark marks on your neck. Everything started to make sense to him, your punctuality, the fact he wasn’t allowed near your house. He’d even caught wind of your anxious ticks, the way you bounced your leg restlessly at dinner last night, or how you’d constantly be glancing at the time on your phone.
He didn’t want to pry, it was a delicate subject to touch upon. He just wanted you to be safe - and he only had less than a week to convince you to come with him to New York.
Billy played it stupid to keep you comfortable.
“Sneaking out today are we?” he smirked as he pulled out of your neighborhood.
You let out a nervous laugh, rubbing your neck, “Y-yeah, you know how parents can be”
Billy wouldn’t know, he hasn’t seen his in over 500 years and Walt always let him do whatever he wanted, just as long as he played it safe.
“So, where is this quarry that you speak of?” he asked, pulling up his phone and opening up Google maps.
“No need for GPS, I can guide you there, just take a left at this upcoming road, then keep going straight until you reach Richland Road, then it’s just a straight shot from there on out. You can’t miss it, trust me”
He nodded at your words, pulling out of the neighborhood and following your guidance until he reached the infamous quarry - and you were right, it was the perfect place to see stars.
You eagerly stepped out of his car, your eyes gazing up to the dark sky that was illuminated by thousands if not hundreds of bright speckles.
In all of his 500 years of living, Billy had never seen such a thing. Sure he’d been all around the world, but he had never seen the sky lit up so bright until tonight. He followed you, stepping out of his car, his eyes glued to the sky. 
“Shit, you weren’t kidding ... “ he muttered to you.
“Yeah ... I’m gonna miss it” you spoke wistfully.
His eyes shot back down to you, his lips puckered into a frown. “What do you mean?”
You broke out of your gaze, not realizing what you had just said. A half smile formed on your lips as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You rested against the trunk of his car, “I’m uh, leaving Hawkins, in about 5 days ... I’m turning 18 and I’m leaving”
There was a sense of hesitation in your voice, Billy heard it loud and clear. But the fact that you were planning on leaving right when he was supposed to head back to New York ... it was as if fate was working it’s magic. His heart wanted to leap with joy, but he played it cool, calm and collected. He joined you by the trunk of his car, resting his body against it as well.
“Where you heading to?”
You shrugged, “Don’t know, haven’t figured it out”
Billy nodded, still trying to play it cool. “You know, I have a place in New York”
You turned to face him, “Oh yeah?” There was a pregnant pause, “You propositioning me?” a slight smile spread over your lips, your tone turned playful as he blushed.
Billy shifted his feet, feeling the gravel dig underneath his shoes. “I - I ... you know, if you’re looking for a place ... I have a place you know? And New York is pretty cool, I could show you around ... if you want of course!”
You wanted to laugh at his bashfulness, how quickly he was able to go from Mr. Charming Man to a blubbering mess within 10 minutes. You leaned over to him, resting your head on his shoulder. Billy instantly froze the moment he felt your body heat on his. and became more of a statue when your fingers found his - linking them for warmth, but you frowned, squeezing his hand tightly.
“You’re so cold ... “ you commented.
You glanced down at the linked hands, and suddenly came the realization just how pale Billy actually was compared to you. You quickly brushed it off, continuing your gaze to the night sky above.
“Maybe you can join me in California ... get some sun in you eh?” you gently jabbed his side with your elbow as he let out a chuckle.
“I’ve thought about moving to California ... “ he paused as he lets his thoughts meander around his head. California was definitely on his list for places to live, but he couldn’t help but feel bitter at the fact that he couldn’t fully enjoy it. He wanted to learn how to surf so bad, to enjoy the beaches, to hang out by the boardwalk.
But he couldn’t do that without his Beloved by his side.
Your voice broke his thoughts, “Why didn’t you?”
He lets out a large breath through his nose. Sometimes he truly hated being a vampire. “Oh you know, life brought me to New York instead. Maybe one day”
You nodded slowly at his response. Silence then took over the conversation, the both of you just relishing in each other presence. You didn’t want to admit it, but a small part of you was falling for him - and falling hard. A constant battle between your heart and head was currently taking place, and your heart was in the lead.
You’re not sure why, but you felt a sense of peacefulness wash over you whenever you were with him.
But something - call it the universe, call it your gut, call it intuition, - was telling you to stay with him.
“Maybe New York would be good for me ... “ you suddenly spoke.
He glanced down at you, his mouth in a grin so wide you swore you saw all his pearly whites. “Oh yeah?”
“Give me more time to think about it okay?”
He squeezed your small hand. It burned the coldness of his skin but he was far too in love to care. He leaned his head over yours, placing a kiss on your hair.
“Take your time. I’ll be here”
And he was. The two of you were completely attached at the hip the rest of the week, texting each other nonstop, sneaking out to hang with him every night. At this point your father’s drinking has become more rampant, he’d be passed out completely by 7 PM, which gave you a sense of security whenever you sneaked out of the house.
The more you hung out with the blue-eyed blonde, the harder you were beginning to fall for him. Billy was a complete dork in his comfortable nature, you two would blast out cheesy pop songs and sing them at the top of your lungs. Or sneak into a late night movie where he would toss popcorn at your hair every now and then to get your attention. You wondered why he was never available in the morning or afternoon - but when you brought the subject up he would just casually brush it off, explaining that he had work to take care of.
Billy on the other hand, was completely enamored with you. He was sure that the universe did the right thing and made you his soulmate because there was no way in hell he was ever leaving your side - and he was desperately hoping you felt the same way.
Of course things between the two of you got physical. If you both weren’t out doing something, you’d both be out at the quarry, usually in his backseat with his hands underneath your shirt and your fingers tangled in his short curls. He didn’t want to pressure you to go all the way - that would come when it came - but my god was he finding it harder to control himself around you. 
It was November 6th - a day left - when the both of you were fooling around in the backseat of his car. Your thighs wrapped around his waist as your hands found purchase on his face. His lips were everywhere - he could feel your pulse race, your blood run, with every breath you took and it was taking everything in his power not to sink his fangs on your tender neck right there and then.
You pulled away from his lips, gazing into his eyes as you rested your forehead on his. 
“I’m coming with you. To New York” 
Your announcement almost made his heart stop. He gently pulled away from you, an incredulous look on his face, “A-are you serious?”
You bit your bottom lip to keep you from exploding from excitement, but you nodded happily at him. “Yeah, I’ve never been more sure before in my life.”
“Shit. Y/N. We have to celebrate!” He exclaimed. You swore you had never seen a man so happy before. You giggled at how boyishly happy he suddenly turned.
“Slow down there Casanova ... I still need to pack, get all my things together”
“Right, right, yeah, of course” he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to let the news sink into him.
His plan actually worked. He couldn’t wait to tell Victoria and to show boat to Walt.
You gently ran your fingers through his hair as it got quiet in the car. Your eyes filled with love as you gazed down on him. The moon was full tonight, and the bright light that it emitted shone through the car - illuminating Billy. He seemed much more paler than the last several days, and you were starting to wonder if he needed go to see a doctor.
“What?” he questioned urgently, “Do I have something on my face?”
His hands quickly shot up to his face, touching around. You giggled, shaking your head.
“No, you just look really pretty under the moonlight”
A smile spread upon his lips. His hands then reached up to your cheeks, stroking them softly.
“You’re beautiful Y/N. I hope you know that”
You let out a small laugh, “Billy, you tell me that all the time”
“I know but just in case you ever forgot ... “
You shut him up by pressing your lips onto his. He instead found it hilarious to drop his hands from your cheeks, and to squeeze your sides. You pulled away from him as laughter erupted from your mouth, throwing your head back and trying to wiggle away from his grasp. The effort came to be fruitless as you were caught between his body and the back of the passenger seat.
His actions finally stopped, letting you take a moment to catch your breath. He marveled at the way your cheeks glowed a rosy red, and how your eyes twinkled brightly under the moonlight.
You glanced over at the clock on his car, your eyes widened at the time.
“Shit. It’s late. I need to get back”
You pushed yourself off of him, adjusting your shirt and straightening your hair back down. The both of you stepped out of his car to move back up to the front. The entire way back Billy was animatedly talking about all the places he’d take you in New York - but in reality his mind was reeling, wondering how he was ever going to explain to you what he truly was - and if you were to ever accept him.
It was a risk he was going to have to take, and a risk that he was willing to die for.
He pulled up near your house, remembering your strict instructions to never pull up in front of your house.
“I’ll pick you up as soon as the sun sets okay? I’ll be finished with work by then, and we can make it a night trip” he told you.
You nodded happily at him, leaning towards him and pressing a kiss on his cheek. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight ... I’m too excited”
“Happy early Birthday Y/N. I promise tomorrow will be a day you’ll never forget”
He grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss. You in return squeezed his hand before you exited out of his car and headed towards your house.
There was an extra hop in your step as you approached your front door, quietly unlocking it with your key. You entered your foyer, your head turning to face the living room, fully expecting to see your father passed out.
But he wasn’t there.
Fear ran it’s cool claws down your neck as panic began to set in. You ran into the kitchen, hoping to see him rummaging in the fridge for another beer. But he wasn’t there either.
You quickly ran up the stairs and ran straight into your room. You swore you had never felt such a sense of fear enter your body than when you saw your father sitting on your bed, his face completely stoic, his eyes blurry and red.
“D-Dad - “
“You little whore”
It was as if venom was pouring out of his mouth whenever he spoke. His eyes darted over to you as his mouth turned into a nasty snarl. He slowly stood up, walking over to you with his fists clenched by his side.
You began to hyperventilate as he towered over you. Your eyes filled with tears as you avoided his death glare.
His hands shot up and grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, pining you to your bedroom door as you yelped in pain.
“You think I’m fucking stupid huh? You think I haven’t seen you sneaking out for the past couple of days like some fucking slut?!”
You quietly sobbed, squeezing your eyes shut as he pinned you harder to the door.
“Answer me!”
He pulled you up, you felt your feet leave the ground as he threw you across your bedroom. Your body landed with a loud thud, spraining your wrist in the process. You let out a loud and painful wail, he watched you with a sick grin on his face as your body was wrecked with sobs.
Shakily, you reached for towards your pocket, pulling out your phone. Your fingers worked nimbly as you found Billy’s name through your texts. You hit the call button and slid your phone under the bed before your father could come and snatch it from you.
You tried pulling yourself up, but pain shot through you as you applied pressure on your wrist, bringing you back down to the floor. Your father stalked over your body as you desperately tried to crawl away from him.
Billy was stopped at a red light when he saw his phone light up with your name on it. With a soft smile, he picked up the phone, “Hey gorgeous miss me - “
“Billy! Help!”
His blood ran cold at the horrific sound of your voice.
“Y/N?”
He heard a loud thud, then followed by an ear-shattering scream. Without even thinking, he pulled a U-turn at the light, his foot pressing hard onto the gas pedal as he was reaching speeds of 90 MPH to reach your house in time. His eyes were turning a dark red, his fangs were fully visible.
There was no stopping in him getting him to you. He would slaughter anyone who would stand in his way.
He stopped his car in front of your house and darted out his car door. He was moving so fast it was as if a wind breeze was passing by. Using his shoulder he broke down the front door and ran up the stairs to your bedroom where he was met with a gut-wrenching scene.
Your father was on his knees, tears pooling out of his eyes as he sobbed over your unconscious body. Your body was splayed out on your bedroom floor, blood trickling down your nose and out of the corner of your head. Your father was too drunk to even realize that Billy had walked into the bedroom, but before he could even glance up Billy had thrown himself on him - pinning him down the floor.
“What the fuck did you do?!” Billy roared at him.
Your father continued to cry as Billy’s fingers squeezed his neck, cutting off his air circulation.
“I - I ... “
But before he could formulate a sentence, Billy had already sunken his fangs into him.
Your father screamed as Billy drained him from all the blood of his body. Leaving the man as a hollow shell, pale and empty. Billy pulled away from him, his body relishing the taste of human blood. He licked his lips, not wanting to drop a single taste a blood from the feeding.
After he was sure he drank all that he could. He ran over to your body, gently lifting your head onto his lap.
“No, no, no, no, Y/N, wake up, please wake up ... “
He put two fingers on your neck, trying to find any indication that you were still alive. He faintly felt a pulse - but he knew that your father had done too much damage.
He had failed you - he had failed to keep his promise.
He let out a whimpering sob, holding your limp body into his arms. Billy knew he could save you, but would you ever forgive him?
He had to make a decision - and quick.
So he scooped you into his arms, bringing your neck to his mouth.
“I’m sorry Y/N ... please forgive me”
He sunk his fangs into your neck and prayed that you would survive the next 24 hours.
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nako-doodles · 4 years
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quarantine tag
tagged by @suggable thank you for checking in w me bby
are you staying home from work/school?
im staying at home now : ] upsides of teaching tiny minions into taking over the world one baby shark at a time i mean what-
if you’re staying home who’s with you?
the ‘rents. its been great. really reminding me why i wanted to live in the dorms during college.
if you can go outside, what do you like to do during this time?
we are ~technically~ allowed outside again but no one trusts state media so no one is really leaving the house unless necessary
an event you were looking forward to that got cancelled?
i was gonna stay with my aunt in her fancy ass villa over chinese new years but lockdown was announced the day before i was supposed to leave so yay
any fascinating concept you’re studying?
i got really confused on why toilet paper was in such high demand and wanted to explore some right wing media conspiracy theories bc im truly That Bored™️ but then i got sucked down a wikipedia rabbithole that started with a lengthy toilet paper orientation article, passed through a couple some buzzfeed unsolved worthy mysteries, skipped by this incredible list of sexually active priests and non-human electoral candidates, somehow learned about a frequency sound that can make you shit your pants, got asked how if there was a chicken apocalypse how i would take down 2.7 chickens, learned that barbar isnt the only fancy elephant, and then stuck my landing from a simone biles twist with this article about action park and reading the names to my dad in a truly atrocious british accent. it was 3am. i still dont know why toilet paper was in such high demand and im an econ major. demand is the name of the game. quarantine for the past couple months have been great thanks for asking.
what kind of acts of creativity/forms of art are you currently doing?
pixel art reminding myself how to sing in an operatic voice just to drive my mom crazy and projecting my voice bc not actively running after children screaming has reverted my voice back to its og ‘what did you say shirley? speak up!!!!’ form. ive also been binging a lot of film analysis videos bc why go to a school famed for its film and acting school, actively choose not to pursue film arts, and then learn from amateurs am i right?
what movies have you watched recently? shows?
OH BOI ive been rewatching all of my emotion-heavy old anime favourites; the ones in heavy rotation currently are perfect blue, this corner of the world, i want to eat your pancreas, haibane renmei, millenial actress, graveyard of the fireflies, madoka magica rebellion, a silent voice, noragami......
what are you reading?
bc i have the attention span of a goldfish ive been on and off picking these books to read: light is like water by gabriel garcia marquez; the journey of the eyeball by katherine vaz; the story of a painter by ludamilla petrushevskaya; the daughters of the moon by italo calvino; and the shell collector by anthony doerr
a song that resonates with your state of mind at the moment?
im pretty sure yall are tired of me saying this but ha:tfelt’s 1719 album
what are you doing for self care?
finally downloading all of the music i wanted on my phone and also practicing to write with my left hand bc i used to be pretty ambidexterous but then i stopped practicing. im also planning on cleaning out my laptop and music library bc i keep procrastinating on it
i tag @cafejoon @stargazingjin @jincentvangogh @ksj1 @monojoons  @cultleaderyoongi @yoonseok @joonie @slipped-away @yoonmochiiii @misskickit @kim-taehyung🌸
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tubbinary · 5 years
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ᕦ(✧ᗜ✧)ᕥ You take the moon and you take the sun. ᕦ(✧ᗜ✧)ᕥ
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) You take everything that sounds like fun. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
☞♥Ꮂ♥☞ You stir it all together and then you're done. ☞♥Ꮂ♥☞
 ᕙ(◍.◎)ᕗ Rada rada rada rada rada rada.  ᕙ(◍.◎)ᕗ
ᕦ(✧ᗜ✧)ᕥ ☞♥Ꮂ♥☞ ᕙ(◍.◎)ᕗ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) So come on in, feel free to do some looking.
Stay a while 'cause somethings always cooking.
Come on in, feel free to do some looking.
Stay a while 'cause somethings always cooking.
Yeah!!! ᕦ(✧ᗜ✧)ᕥ ☞♥Ꮂ♥☞ ᕙ(◍.◎)ᕗ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
You are about to get spammed with 600 dank memes. Prepare all nukes and weapons for the Great Spam War. If you can contain the amount of spam I have, you will be granted with special powers that allow you to smoke weed 200 times harder. Not only that, but you will have a laggy as fuck laptop. You know how lucky you are?????? My laptop runs at 669FPS and it never lags or is slow. YOU LUCKY SON OF A GUN. You will pay the price by me giving you a link (Which shall contain a download) which will wipe all your memory off the face of this universe and overwrite it with my own software, Memesoftlocker2.0000.0. You are so damn lucky you know that? NOT EVEN I HAVE IT SLUT. But if you were able to read up to this point congratulations, you suck. But click this link www.mymom.;;;;;;/eeeeeeee.crash; and you will be taken to a memory erase phrase. You lucky slut, but you will get the best computer software ever that makes your computer lag so bad that you can't even use it. LIKE HOW AMAZING??? Yes, I promise you this is 420% legit. But if you spread this abusive software you have EARNED I will suck you off this living universe so be careful buddy. Now, Please stop reading this message as it ends now...
Excuse me? I find vaping to be one of the best things in my life.  It has carried me through the toughest of times and brought light and vapor upon my spirit.  You're just another one of those people who doesn't believe in chem trails and fluoride turning us gay.  Your ignorance to the government is what makes you a sheep in today's society. Have fun being a slave to todays's system.
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I sexually Identify as a Gabe Newell. Ever since I was a boy I dreamed of filling my wallet by dropping Steam Sales onto 12 000 games at once. People say to me that a person being a Newell is impossible and I'm fucking retarded but I don't care, I'm beautiful. I have 10 computers worth over 10k each in order to drop new Steam Sales every few days. From now on I want you guys to call me "Gabe" and respect my right to get rich fast and discount needlessly. If you can't accept me you're a profitophobe and need to check your wallet. Thank you for being so understanding.
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Here in my garage, just bought this new lamborghini here. It’s fun to drive up here in the Steam Hills. But you know what I like more than single discounts? Steam Sales In fact, I’m a lot more proud of two new Steam Sales that I had to get installed to hold twelve thousand new discounts on Steam. It’s like what i say, “the more you discount, the more you earn.”
My Grandfather smoked his whole life. I was about 10 years old when my mother said to him, 'If you ever want to see your grandchildren graduate, you have to stop immediately.'. Tears welled up in his eyes when he realized what exactly was at stake. He gave it up immediately. Three years later he died of lung cancer. It was really sad and destroyed me. My mother said to me- 'Don't ever smoke. Please don't put your family through what your Grandfather put us through." I agreed. At 28, I have never touched a cigarette. I must say, I feel a very slight sense of regret for never having done it, because your post gave me cancer anyway.
HEY RTZ, I’M TRYING TO LEARN TO PLAY RIKI. I JUST HAVE A QUESTION ABOUT THE SKILL BUILD: SHOULD I MAX BACKSTAB LIKE YOU BACKSTABBED EG, SMOKESCREEN SO THEY MISS ME LIKE EG MISS YOU 70% OF THE TIME, OR PERMANET INVISIBILITY SO I COULD DISAPPEAR LIKE YOU DISAPPEARED FROM EG
I sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter. Ever since I was a boy I dreamed of soaring over the oilfields dropping hot sticky loads on disgusting foreigners. People say to me that a person being a helicopter is Impossible and I'm fucking retarded but I don't care, I'm beautiful. I'm having a plastic surgeon install rotary blades, 30 mm cannons and AMG-114 Hellfire missiles on my body. From now on I want you guys to call me "Apache" and respect my right to kill from above and kill needlessly. If you can't accept me you're a heliphobe and need to check your vehicle privilege. Thank you for being so understanding.
Gr8 b8, m8. I rel8, str8 appreci8, and congratul8. I r8 this b8 an 8/8. Plz no h8, I'm str8 ir8. Cr8 more, can't w8. We should convers8, I won't ber8, my number is 8888888, ask for N8. No calls l8 or out of st8. If on a d8, ask K8 to loc8. Even with a full pl8, I always have time to communic8 so don't hesit8. dont forget to medit8 and particip8 and masturb8 to allevi8 your ability to tabul8 the f8. We should meet up m8 and convers8 on how we can cre8 more gr8 b8, I'm sure everyone would appreci8, no h8. I don't mean to defl8 your hopes, but its hard to dict8 where the b8 will rel8 and we may end up with out being appreci8d, I'm sure you can rel8. We can cre8 b8 like alexander the gr8, stretch posts longer than the Nile's str8s. We'll be the captains of b8, 4chan our first m8s the growth r8 will spread to reddit and like real est8 and be a flow r8 of gr8 b8, like a blind d8 we'll coll8, meet me upst8 where we can convers8, or ice sk8 or lose w8 infl8 our hot air baloons and fly, tail g8. We could land in Kuw8, eat a soup pl8 followed by a dessert pl8 the payment r8 won't be too ir8 and hopefully our currency won't defl8. We'll head to the Israeli-St8, taker over like Herod the gr8 and b8 the jewish masses, 8 million, m8. We could interrel8 communism, thought it's past it's maturity d8, a department of st8, volunteer st8. reduce the infant mortality r8, all in the name of making gr8 b8 m8.
What the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) did you just ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) say about me, you little ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)? I'll have you know I graduated top of my ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) in the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), and I've been involved in numerous secret ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) on ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), and I have over 300 confirmed ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). I am trained in ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) warfare and I'm the top ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) in the entire US armed ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). You are nothing to me but just another ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). I will wipe you the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) out with precision the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) of which has never been seen before on this ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), mark my ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) words. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) think ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) can get away with saying that ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) to me over the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)? Think again, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). As we speak I am contacting my secret network of ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) across the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) and your ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) is being ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) right now so you better ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) for the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). The ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). You're ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) dead, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). I can be ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), anytime, and I can ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) you in over seven hundred ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), and that's just with my bare ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). Not only am I extensively trained in ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) combat, but I have access to the entire ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) of the United States ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) off the face of the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), you little ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) comment was about to bring down upon ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), maybe you would have held your ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). I will ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) fury all over ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) and ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) will ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) in it. You're ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) dead, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°).
My name is Artour Babaevsky. I grow up in smal farm to have make potatos. Father say "Artour, potato harvest is bad. Need you to have play professional Doto in Amerikanski for make money for head-scarf for babushka."I bring honor to komrade and babushka. Sorry for is not have English. Please no cyka pasta coperino pasterino liquidino throwerino.
hi every1 im new!!!!!!! holds up spork my name is katy but u can call me t3h PeNgU1N oF d00m!!!!!!!! lol…as u can see im very random!!!! thats why i came here, 2 meet random ppl like me _… im 13 years old (im mature 4 my age tho!!) i like 2 watch invader zim w/ my girlfreind (im bi if u dont like it deal w/it) its our favorite tv show!!! bcuz its SOOOO random!!!! shes random 2 of course but i want 2 meet more random ppl =) like they say the more the merrier!!!! lol…neways i hope 2 make alot of freinds here so give me lots of commentses!!!!
DOOOOOMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <--- me bein random again _^ hehe…toodles!!!!!
Hi, 4k player here who reported slahser. Slahser was our position 1 faceless void. He built a mek and had around 29 healing salves in his inventory. He would chrono both teams in the middle of a fight, salve his allies, pop mek, and proceeded to yell "SLAHSER'S WAY". We gave him position 1 farm so he could be a position 5.
Granted, his unorthodox build worked and carried us to victory but I still felt it deserved a report.
I owe my life to Arteezy. I got in a horrible car crash and i was in 6 month coma. The nurse switched to the Twitch channel to Arteezy's stream. I awoke from my coma and muted it.
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ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ RAISE YOUR DONGERS ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ 
(ง ͠ ͠° ل͜ °)ง ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴsᴇᴇɴ ᴅᴏɴɢᴇʀ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟɪᴇsᴛ (ง ͠° ل͜ °)ง 
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ As I ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴜʀᴀɪ sᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ sᴛᴏᴍᴀᴄʜ ᴀs I ᴡᴀs ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴍɪᴛ sᴜᴅᴏᴋᴜ, I ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ Kʀɪᴘᴘ ᴘʟᴀʏ Cᴀsᴜᴀʟsᴛᴏɴᴇ... I ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ Kʀɪᴘ ᴡᴀs Nᴏʟɪғᴇ... ɴᴏᴡ I ᴀᴍ Nᴏʟɪғᴇ...ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʙʏᴇ ᴋʀɪᴘᴘ ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ
 (ง ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)ง ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴏᴅs (ง ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)ง (ง •̀_•́)ง ʏᴇᴀʜ sᴘᴀᴍ ɪᴛ! (ง •̀_•́)ง
(╭ರ_•́)\ Mr. Fors we politely ask for the program 'Plug-Dj" to be used in this live broadcast for alas we will stir up a ruckus (╭ರ_•́)
 (̿▀̿ ̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿)̄ ɴᴀᴍᴇ's ᴅᴏɴɢ. ᴊᴀᴍᴇs ᴅᴏɴɢ (̿▀̿ ̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿)̄
 (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง I have been training since before I was born, and today is the day. Today is the day I spam. (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง
༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽YOU CAME TO THE WRONG DONGERHOOD༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽
 ༼ ºل͟º ༼ ºل͟º ༼ ºل͟º ༽ ºل͟º ༽ ºل͟º ༽ YOU PASTARINO'D THE WRONG DONGERINO ༼ ºل͟º ༼ ºل͟º ༼ ºل͟º ༽ ºل͟º ༽ ºل͟º ༽
༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༽ºل͟º ༽ YOU COPERINO FRAPPUCCIONO PASTARINO'D THE WRONG DONGERINO ༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༽ºل͟º ༽
 ༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽You either die a DONG, or live long enough to become the DONGER༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽
༼ ಠل͟ರೃ༼ ಠل͟ರೃ༼ ಠل͟ರೃ༼ ಠل͟ರೃ ༽ಠل͟ರೃ ༽ಠل͟ರೃ ༽ YOU ARRIVED IN THE INCORRECT DONGERHOOD, SIR༼ ಠل͟ರೃ༼ ಠل͟ರೃ༼ ಠل͟ರೃ༼ ಠل͟ರೃ ༽ಠل͟ರೃ ༽ಠل͟ರೃ ༽   
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──☆*:・゚ clickty clack clickty clack with this chant I summon spam to the chat ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──☆*:・゚
ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ. ʜᴀʀᴅᴇʀ, ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ, ғᴀsᴛᴇʀ, ᴅᴏɴɢᴇʀ .ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ 
ヽ(◉◡◔)ノ I'M LOL FAN AND I HAVE DOWN SYNDROME ヽ(◉◡◔)ノ 
(ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴏɴɢᴇʀ, ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴇᴍʏ (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง 
(ง ͠° ل͜ °)ง LET ME DEMONSTRATE DONGER DIPLOMACY (ง ͠° ل͜ °)ง
(\ ( ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°) /) OUR DONGERS ARE RAZOR SHARP (\ ( ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°) /) 
ヽ༼◥▶ل͜◀◤༽ノ RO RO RAISE YOUR DONGERS ヽ༼◥▶ل͜◀◤༽ノ 
̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'̵͇̿̿з=༼ ▀̿̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿ ༽=ε/̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿[} ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿^ Stop right there criminal scum! no one RIOTs on my watch. I'm confiscating your goods. now pay your fine, or it's off to jail. 
̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'̵͇̿̿з=༼ ▀̿̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿ ༽ YOU'RE UNDER ARREST FOR BEING CASUAL. COME OUT WITH YOUR DONGERS RAISED ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'̵͇̿̿з=༼ ▀̿̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿ ༽   
(ง'̀-'́)ง DONG OR DIE (ง'̀-'́)ง   
ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ raise your dongers ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ 
ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ VOICE OF AN ANGEL ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ 
ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ LETS GET DONGERATED ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ 
ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ RAISE YOUR BARNO ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ 
ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ "I have a dong" ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ - Martin Luther King Jr.
ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ OJ poured and candle lit, with this chant i summon Kripp ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ 
 ☑ OJ poured ☑ Candle lit ☑ Summoning the Kripp ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ
ヽ༼ຈل͜O༽ノ ʀᴀɪs ᴜʀ ᴅᴀɢᴇʀᴏ ヽ༼ຈل͜___ຈ༽ノ  
(ง ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)งSuccubus release Kripp or taste our rage(ง ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)ง   
ノ(ಠ_ಠノ ) ʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴏɴɢᴇʀs ノ(ಠ_ಠノ)
ヽ༼Ὸل͜ຈ༽ノ HOIST THY DONGERS ヽ༼Ὸل͜ຈ༽ノ 
ヽ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ノ Kripp you are kinda like my dad, except you're always there for me. ヽ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ノ 
 █▄༼ຈل͜ຈ༽▄█ yeah i work out  
༼ ºل͟º ༽ I AM A DONG ༼ ºل͟º ༽ 
༼ ºل͟º༽ I DIDN'T CHOOSE THE DONGLIFE, THE DONGLIFE CHOSE ME ༼ ºل͟º༽ 
༼ ºل͟º༽ NO ONE CARED WHO I WAS UNTIL I PUT ON THE DONG ༼ ºل͟º༽  
༼ ºººººل͟ººººº ༽ I AM SUPER DONG ༼ ºººººل͟ººººº ༽ 
┌∩┐༼ ºل͟º ༽┌∩┐ SUCK MY DONGER ┌∩┐༼ ºل͟º ༽┌∩┐ 
ζ༼Ɵ͆ل͜Ɵ͆༽ᶘ FINALLY A REAL DONG ζ༼Ɵ͆ل͜Ɵ͆༽ᶘ 
<ᴍᴇssᴀɢᴇ ᴅᴏɴɢᴇʀᴇᴅ> 
ヽ༼ʘ̚ل͜ʘ̚༽ノIS THAT A DONGER IN YOUR POCKET?ヽ༼ʘ̚ل͜ʘ̚༽ノ  
 ༼ ͡■ل͜ ͡■༽ OPPA DONGER STYLE ༼ ͡■ل͜ ͡■༽  
( ° ͜ ʖ °) REGI OP ( ° ͜ ʖ °) 
(̿▀̿ ̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿)̄ IM DONG,JAMES DONG (̿▀̿ ̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿)̄ 
(ง⌐□ل͜□)ง WOULD YOU HIT A DONGER WITH GLASSES (ง⌐□ل͜□)ง 
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ CUDDLE UR DONGERS ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ 
ლ(́◉◞౪◟◉‵ლ) let me hold your donger for a while ლ(́◉◞౪◟◉‵ლ) 
ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ง MY RIGHT DONG IS ALOT STRONGER THAN MY LEFT ONE ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ง
(✌゚∀゚)☞ May the DONG be with you! ☚(゚ヮ゚☚)   
(⌐■_■)=/̵͇̿̿/'̿'̿̿̿ ̿ ̿̿ ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ Keep Your Dongers Where i Can See Them 
̿'̿'\̵͇̿̿\з=( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)=ε/̵͇̿̿/'̿̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ DUDE̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'\̵͇̿̿\з=( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)=ε/̵͇̿̿/'̿̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ PLEASE NO COPY PASTERONI MACORONI DONGERIN 
( ͝° ͜ʖ͡°) Mom always said my donger was big for my age ( ͝° ͜ʖ͡°)
(/゚Д゚)/ WE WANT SPELUNKY (/゚Д゚)/
─=≡Σ((( つ◕ل͜◕)つ sᴜᴘᴇʀ ᴅᴏɴɢ  
(✌゚∀゚)☞ POINT ME TO THE DONGERS (✌゚∀゚)☞ 
ᕙ( ^ₒ^ c) 〇〇〇〇ᗩᗩᗩᗩᕼᕼ ᕙ( ^ₒ^ c)
ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ ArcheAge or BEES ヽ̛͟͢༼͝ຈ͢͠لຈ҉̛༽̨҉҉ノ̨
 ୧༼ಠ益ಠ༽୨ MRGLRLRLR ୧༼ಠ益ಠ༽୨
ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノITS A HARD DONG LIFE ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ
ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノMOLLYヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ
༼ つ ຈل͜ຈ ༽つ GIVE MOLLY ༼ つ ຈل͜ຈ ༽つ
 †ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ† By the power of donger I summon MOLLY †ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ† 
ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノTAKING A DUMPヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ 
ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ WHAT DOESNT KILL ME ONLY MAKES ME DONGER ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ  
ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ FOREVER DONG ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ 
[̲̅$̲̅(̲̅ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°̲̅)̲̅$̲̅] Mo' money, mo' Dongers [̲̅$̲̅(̲̅ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°̲̅)̲̅$̲̅] 
༼ᕗຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ Drop Bows on 'em ༼ᕗຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ 
Ѱζ༼ᴼل͜ᴼ༽ᶘѰ HIT IT WITH THE FORK Ѱζ༼ᴼل͜ᴼ༽ᶘѰ  
Ψ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽Ψ hit it with the fork Ψ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽Ψ
(∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━☆゚. * ・ 。゚ Copypastus Totalus!! 
 ヽヽ`ヽ`、ヽヽ`ヽ`、ヽヽ`ヽ、ヽヽ`ヽ`、ヽヽ`ヽ`、`、ヽヽ`ヽ`、ヽヽ`ヽ`、ヽヽ`ヽ`、ヽヽ`ヽ`、ヽヽ`ヽ`、ヽヽ`ヽ`、ヽヽ༼ຈ ل͜ຈ༽ノ☂ ɪᴛs ʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ sᴀʟᴛ! ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ☂ ヽ`ヽ`、ヽヽ`ヽ`、`ヽ`、ヽヽ`ヽ`、ヽヽ`ヽ、ヽヽ`ヽ
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬛⬛⬜⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ 
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IM DELETING YOU, DADDY!😭👋 ██]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]] 10% complete..... ████]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]] 35% complete.... ███████]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]] 60% complete.... ███████████] 99% complete..... 🚫ERROR!🚫 💯True💯 Daddies are irreplaceable 💖I could never delete you Daddy!💖 Send this to ten other 👪Daddies👪 who give you 💦cummies💦 Or never get called ☁️squishy☁️ again❌❌😬😬❌❌ If you get 0 Back: no cummies for you 🚫🚫👿 3 back: you're squishy☁️💦 5 back: you're daddy's kitten😽👼💦 10+ back: Daddy
  Fuck a hater , hit a snitch , your my girl 👭 , my 5 star bitch , i love you more than any dick 💕💯, && if i dont get this back 🕙 , you aint worth shit !! Send this to 8 girls you care about .. 💯 I love you , I love you forever !! 💯 Whoever stops this will suffer for 83 days !! 💯💯💯 Ready, set, GO !!!! in
  Stahp. 👋 🏻 Don't Flirt Wit Meh. Do Yhu Not Know What In A➡ RELATIONSHIP⬅ Means.? Frfr.👋 🏻 I Am Loyal. 💯 I Am In Love.💗 && Nobody Gunna Come Between Us. 😝 Stop Wit Yhur Thirsty Asses Tryna Hit Me Up On The DL, I Am Commited.✌ 🏼👌🏼💯
  ! ! ! ATTENTION 2003 KIDS ! ! ! This 👇 is the last year of being a kid 👦👧! Because NEXT 👉YEAR! We gon be T33N4G3RS💁💅!! PARTYING 🎉💃 DRINKING 🍻🍸🍹🍷 MAKING OUT AND SEX 👅💦O_O PERIODS ☹🍫 HEARTBREAKS 💔☹ MIDDLE SCHOOL SOPHOMORES (7️⃣TH GRADE)
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quackmyback · 5 years
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Her Muse : Min Yoongi
Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader
PART ONE???
a/n : heyyy, it’s al and this is my lil fic. its mostly to help me practice my writing, but if you like it let me know :)
word count : 2670+
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Annalise Moberly -- more commonly known as Rio to the rest of the world -- could definitely be classified as a rarity; a morning person. Her band mates didn't even refer to her with the term, instead, they took up the lovely adjective 'insane' to call their main vocalist. On anyday, at exactly at five fifteen in the morning, you could find Annie in the girl's kitchen with a mug of coffee -- black -- snuggled in her hands. She would we tucked away in a brightly colored sweater without any pants on -- because who wheres pants at home? -- and a book with too many pages beneath her nose. It would be a romance novel, she was a sap for those, and by the time she finished her coffee she would be almost halfway to halfway done. It was probably her superpower -- besides waking up at the ass crack of dawn -- to be able to read a book so quickly the flash would be envious.
That's where Min-ji found Annie that morning when she found herself once again in the clutches of her insomnia. Although, this time it was earlier than normal. This time it was around one in the morning and Min-ji was beyond confused.
"Annie?" Min-ji roared when she spoke. It was never on purpose, she just was a naturally loud and bubbly person. Annie didn't jump, she expected her friend to slump down the steps and pop around the kitchen corner fairly soon. Also, nothing really scared Annie; she always had been an impenetrable brick wall according to her moms.
Annie hummed in response to her friend, her eyes didn't leave her monitor as she typed mindlessly on her laptop.
"What're you doing awake?" Min-ji was confused, not beyond, just confused. She was, actually, beyond used to Annie waking up at ungodly hours of the day. Just never this hour.
"Couldn't sleep," Annie sniffled, wiggling her nose and pursing her lips. "Figured why not get a head start on some new beats. Some new jams, get hizzy with it-"
"Stop. Please, just, stop." Min-ji raised her hand as she reached the fridge, turning away from Annie and rummaging inside of it. Annie glanced up and could've sworn -- hand over heart and needle through eye -- that Min-ji's lower half disappeared inside of the damn thing. When she reappeared, she held a hug of milk and practically threw it on the counter.
"My god, MinMin, I thought you had insomnia not anger issues," Annie crinkled her nose at the violence towards the dairy product. Her fingers found their way around the mug just beside her laptop, it was filled with calming chamomile this time. Not black coffee. She didn't get a reaponse from Min-ji, just an exhausted grunt and a casual flip of a -- not so nice -- finger. "There's tea in the kettle if you-okay"
Annie cut herself off as Min-ji slammed a mug -- hopefully, not precious -- down onto the counter and poured a hefty glass of milk. Min-ji thought for a second before she turned around again to put the milk up. Once the fridge devoured her for a little bit, she was spat back out with a new bottle in her hands.
"Is that rum?" Annie raised her brows at her elder bandmate, watching her wearily. Min-ji glared up and into Annie's eyes as she unscrewed the top. Her hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle and tipped it over the side, pouring in a fair amount of liquor. "Alrighty then."
Annie closed her laptop, her dainty fingers pressing the screen down onto the keys. She finished off her mug of chamomile, watching Min-ji chug down the whole mug quicker than Annie could say 'holy shit, bitch.'
Annie shoved her chair back, the legs smoothly gliding across the pristine -- alright, that's a bit if an exaggeration -- white tile. She walked around the island, landing beside Min-ji.
"You do know what time it is, right?" Anne quirked her brow, her concern rising as Min-ji -- determined to suckle the last drop of her mixture -- had her nose and mouth tucked into the mug.
Min-ji's eyes poked around the mugs rim, shooting a look towards Annie as she placed her own mug into the sink. Her voice was simultaneously muffled and echoey from inside the mug,"Of course, do I look incompetent to you?" Annie opened her mouth to answer, a good already on the tip of her tongue.
"Well-"
"Rhetorical. Do not answer that," Min-ji dropped the mug from her face and sat it in the sink next to Annie's. Annie smiled tiredly, sluggishly moving to retrieve her laptop and push in her barstool. The effects of her chamomile were already pumping through her veins. Her head felt foggy and her eyes were glassy.
"Whatever you say, MinMin. Nighty night," Annie began to walk away, to retreat to her room and not be seen until in a few hours, but she stopped and turned back to Min-ji for a second,"by the way, I don't know if you've heard, but if you keep scowling like that your face is liable to get stuck."
Min-ji threw one last glare as the girl passed the banister and ascended the stairs, muttering to herself as she reached for a muffin in the center of the island. "Smart ass."
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Annie did not wake up at her usual time, in fact, she was beyond late and that was totally out of character for her. The next time she opened her eyes, she was curled up in an odd position on her bed with the sheets somewhere on the floor. Annie always got hot at night, but cold in the day. It took her a moment to register the sun--something she wasn't used to seeing in the morning--when she pried her eyes to stay open and rubbed them awake. She took in a deep breath and turned her head.
8:39 a.m
"Fucking ducks," Annie cursed, flinging herself off her bed. She grabbed her phone and headed downstairs, her mind wandering to the earlier hours of the morning she first trekked down the steps. The reason she woke up of course, she hadn't lied to Min-ji, was because of the wave of emotion she felt. The rush if excitement and worry practically being shoved down her throat, dreams of yellow and pink with swirls and beautiful music shook her awake. She practically choked on enthusiasm, instantly grabbing her laptop and writing down the music she hears in her dream. Angelic, light and a beat that crawled out of hell. It was perfect, hut Annie had no clue what it was for.
When she stumbled into the kitchen, her hands were running through her hair quickly. Yanking out knots and unwanted curls, she crunched her nose as she ignored the pain.
"Well good morning, sleeping beauty," Annie snapped a glare towards Hidaya, suddenly feeling the urge to choke the woman to death with her hijab. Hidaya smirked, a mug of whatever concoction she needed to slurp in the mornings loosely supper in her hands.
"Careful," Annie warned, "I might teach you a new way to wrap your hijab." Hidaya rolled her eyes, sipping her tea. Annie bit her cheek, sifting through the pantry.
"Like you have time for that," Ami snorted tossing the girl a silver rectangular packe,"It's brown sugar. Go get dressed, we have dance practice then a meeting with BigHit."
Annie froze,"BigHit?"
Ami nodded, nibbling on the eggs and bacon laid out in front of her that she did not bother to share with anyone else. "Yeah, you know, the company over BTS."
Annie nodded slowly,"Right. Yeah." As Ami said BTS, Annie got the burst of pinks and yellows around her vision. "Okay."
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"Why on Earth," Min-Ji questioned, breathing heavily and patting her forehead with a towel,"is this meeting scheduled after a dance practice? That's like taking team photos after the first practice of the season. It's satanic!"
Annie scrunched her face at the girl as they walked down the pristine lavender walls of the company building. "You're so over dramatic," Annie shook her head at her best friend, throwing her towel at the girls chest.
"I just dont get it,"Min-Ji mumbled, pulling a grossed out face as she plucked the towel off of her shirt and handed it to Ami. The sweet mom of the group took the towel without hesitation and send a secret annoyed look to Hidaya.
"Well dont think too much," Annie warned, her hand wrapping around the handle to their bosses office,"Might hurt yourself."
"Oh, so original."
The four girls stumbled awkwardly into the office, dressed in sweatpants and jumpers quickly thrown over sports bras. Annie inspected everyone else in the room, definitely underdressed.
"Girls, glad you could make it." Danielle greeted them, a tight smile stretched across her flushed cheeks.
Annie scrunched her nose, sliding into a rolly chair on the opposite side of the table where a boy with pink hair resided. She muttered to herself, no one in particular,"You literally make our schedules."
Ami reached over Min-Ji and smacked the girls bicep, Annie jumped in surprise as her fist made contact. The coffee addict gave Ami a bewildered look, puzzled and hurt.
"Shush,"Annie pouted, she sat back in her chair and crossed her arms like a child; she obeyed Ami's wishes.
"Right then," Danielle mainly spoke to the girls and the man sitting at the far end of the table, which Annie thought to be highly rude despite knowing the men couldn't understand many words her boss was saying. "Black Summer, meet BTS. BTS, meet Black Summer."
Hidaya opened her mouth, a smirk resident on her face."BS is always a swell term too."
Annie's eyes watched in fascination as the translator at the end of the table spoke, she could only understand the simple words and, in that moment, she thanked whatever god was out there that Min-Ji forced them into Korean language lessons. She watched the translator falter after he realized the sentences he had just flipped languages and reiterated to the seven gorgeous boys of Bangtan.
Annie's lips parted, she finally took the chance to look at them; they were all looking at each other.
The first one seemed to be a little younger than Annie, herself. Her had a blunt nose and big doe eyes that Annie enjoyed comparing to Ami's, but his were the same color as Annie's rather than a sky blue. He smiled as the translator finished Hidaya's witty snap and Annie bit her cheek as she realized the only thing she should be comparing him to is a bunny.
She moved on, there was a lot of territory to cover.
The next one that seemed most intriguing was the boy right across from her, he had flaming pink locks and cheeks that, even before smiling, poked around his eyes. He was one of the prettiest men Annie had ever laid eyes on, and she had met Shawn Mendes a month ago. He smiled at Annie as their eyes met and the coffee addict couldn't help but reciprocate the grin, his happiness was intoxicating and contagious like a disease Annie never wanted to be cured of.
She gave him a small wave and continued to find someone that interested her. The next two had their arms around each other in an affectionate but casual way, Annie noticed that one of them had his face flushed and he didn't fit the standard Korean beauty Min-Ji had ranted about so many times before. He had a bashful smile, they both did, but his was accompanied by dimples carving his cheeks. The other had broad shoulder that looked to dig into the others chest, but Annie noticed he didn't seem to mind. Annie liked his hair color, it reminded her of coffee with lots of creamer. The way Min-Ji likes her coffee.
The one she surveyed next had a bright boxy smile and strikingly jet black hair, his eyes scrunched--though not as much as cotton candy hair in front of her-- which made him seem like the brightest bottle of sunshine that Annie wanted to get absolutely wasted on. He had cute glasses on his head Annie swore she could pull out of Ami's flamboyant wardrobe.
Annie inspected two boys next, one had the brightest smile on his face -- brighter than cotton candy's and glasses' over there -- and he had his arm timidly linked with another boy's. The boy with the bright smile, Annie saw burst of yellow around him and her glance flickered to the other boys hair. The familiar melody she had dreamed of danced in her head, ricocheting between her ears. Annie felt oddly happy while looking at him and, while she didn't have time to cyber stalk them, assumed his alias was J-Hope from what she's heard. He returned her small, hesitant smile with the biggest one shed received so far. The boy attached to him, however, was looking over at something else instead of Annie's twitching lips.
Annie's lips parted, her interest finally peeked. He had grey hair with the slightest purple undertones, as if it hadn't all the way washed out. He had the smallest of smiles etched on his face, but the apples of his cheeks were the color of strawberry smoothies. Annie head the melody become accompanied with harmonies, the pitches blending in the back of her brain and a numbing mumble of lyrics just out of reach for her to understand.
Then he turned, his gaze shifted and their eyes met.
As soon as abyss collided with abyss, Annie felt a headache stab at her corneas. A dull ache, like beating a drum, pound at the back of her head. When Annie got the perfect look right into his mind from his eyes, mugs black coffee, the only way she drank it, Annie swallowed the pain. The melody boomed, the harmonies collided in perfect rhythm and the lyrics were there, dancing in front of her eyes where splashes of yellow and pink highlighted the most beautiful features of the man in front of her.
She blinked as he looked down at his hands, her own hands fidgeted before they shot out the notebook splayed out in front of Danielle.
"Annie?" Her boss jumped at her abrupt movements, almost shielding her face as the girl swiped things off the desk to find a pen. "Here! Here!"
Annie didnt finding the time to mumble a thank you ad her boss handed her a blue inked pen, her mind to busy running around with butterfly nets trying to catch and preserve every last note and lyric with pins into their wings and glass magnifying their beautiful colors. She didn't feel everyone's eyes on her, especially not the boy who caused symphonies in her head's.
Min-Ji leaned back, a proud smile adorned her perfect features. In her home language, the one she perfected when she was just a kid, she spoke to BTS. "That's just Annie being Annie, she finds music in the beauty around her." Min-Ji's eyes flickered around their faces,"One of you just became her muse. That song will exist because of you."
Annie didn't hear her words, but if she did; she would've bashfully agreed. A flustered smile would've pricked her cheeks once again and she would've tried her damn hardest to not look at the boy with the grey hair and perfect face. Knowing good and well he knew he was the last person she looked at before her outburst, they both knew...
He became her muse.
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odogaronfang · 6 years
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okay here it is!!! the long-awaited (not really) masterpost of hc’s about the background characters!!!
@105ttt and i have been working on this stuff for a couple weeks now and i’ve finally got around to making it into something shareable!! and i’m excited because now this means i get to use them in fics without people being completely lost!!!!
anyway this post is long so i’m gonna put it under a readmore-
Leonel
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-link’s father
-captain of the guard & keeper of the wind key
-close friends with artura and valensuela since childhood
-because of the circumstances, he’s very well-read on the various legends/stories of the past heroes
-is a stand-in father for zelda sometimes because of how close she and his son(s) are
-constantly worried about his kids (sometimes because of the trouble they’ve been in, sometimes because of the trouble they cause)
-definitely the ‘cool manager’ type of captain- does what he needs to in order to run an efficient guard, but he’s also good friends with all of them
-there are days where he wants to take his kids out to town for a family day and there are days where he wants to throw them all out a window
Artura
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-the captain’s top knight
-friends with leonel since childhood; they weren’t in the same battalion until they became full knights but leonel would cut sessions to go train with his group
-specialized in heavy armored combat, proficient in several kinds of weaponry but mostly uses bludgeoning weapons
-the backup dad for vio when leonel is busy because hylia knows vio needs constant supervision
-the embodiment of the gentle giant trope- does a lot of favors for people and the castle town kids ADORE him
-always busy + always tired. give artura his vacation days please
-he has a special room in the castle he goes to when he needs alone time and doesn’t want to be bothered. vio is allowed in but only grudgingly and only if he’s maintained at least one (1) week of decent behavior
-works a lot with younger trainees (mostly around link’s age); has a lot of instructional tasks on top of his regular patrol duties
-he doesn’t take off his armor in public a lot, so most people haven’t seen him out of it. there’s a joke among the younger groups that artura isn’t actually a person but rather a darknut or one of the phantom knights animated by the royal family’s magic. (actually it’s just because he’s secretly a twink and he doesn’t want people knowing that Mr. Top Knight/Mr. Living Darknut couldn’t hit 160lbs if he was soaking wet.)
Valensuela
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-keeper of the water key
-close friends with leonel since childhood; was in the same trainee battalion as him
-trained for armored combat but dislikes wearing heavy plate- if he wears a lot of armor, it’s usually maille
-can dual-wield, but usually opts for one larger sword instead of two smaller ones
-basically adopts green after the pyramid incident. just steals him from leonel. green is his son now. green accidentally calls valensuela ‘dad’ once and leonel’s parentship of green ends right there.
-appears very dignified and serious but actually has a flair for the theatrical. most people are not aware of this but his friends know.
-leonel’s second-in-command, but he’s far more task-oriented and doesn’t deal with people as well as leonel does. he can come across as a little brusque with people he isn’t familiar with so he tries not to take that role if he doesn’t have to.
-not a personality headcanon but he has a scar on his forehead from when green shattered his helmet in the pyramid. and after he’s overcome the trauma that came with that whole ordeal, he definitely brags about it. someone asks what happened to him for him to have a scar like that and he’s like “oh my son did that isn’t he talented?”
Lucien
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-keeper of the fire key
-so chill. extremely laid-back guy. the kind of guy you go to hang out with when you want to do something social but you don’t want to leave your house (or even your couch).
-kinda lazy when it comes to little mundane tasks, which he caught a lot of flak for while he was still in training, but wholeheartedly dedicated to his job when it comes down to it.
-basically adopts red. they’re like best buds. red makes lucien carry him around on his shoulders so he doesn’t have to walk but lucien doesn’t mind.
-absolutely the kind of person to disappear for an entire day and when you find him again and ask him where he went he says he was in the living room the whole time
-very good at cooking, but only the really time-consuming, complicated recipes, which goes directly against his low-effort nature. he rarely cooks, but everyone looks forward to the days that he does.
-also the kind of person to “work out” by doing one push up every five minutes. the second he hears someone approaching he’ll stay in mid-push-up position and when they walk in he’ll say “one thousand”. (he only actually made it to nine.)
-if he isn’t in armor he’s in sweats. “dress more professionally” the captain says to him one day. he shows up to breakfast the next morning wearing sweats again, but this time he also has a tie on.
-the tallest of the group, which artura makes fun of (it’s all in good fun. he just makes fun of artura for being so small.)
Wes
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-keeper of the earth key
-the high-energy go-getter of the group. his energy alone balances out the chronically low-key natures of artura and lucien. basically an eternal child at heart.
-ALWAYS ready to throw down. it isn’t even that he has anger issues, he just needs a way to get rid of his restless energy while also triumphing in his various conflicts, and to him, fighting (within the controlled setting of a spar) is the easiest way to do that.
-one of those people that has to be physically restrained from doing dumb things. “hey i bet i could land in the hot spring if i jumped from the third story balcony” “wes you will break all of the bones in your lower body” “and??”
-also the guy in the group that’s constantly making bets and daring people to do things. he violates the sanctity of the triple dog dare by using it literally every time. he is also eerily good at predicting the correct outcome of bets.
-learns little things like sleight-of-hand tricks just to fudge them at the end; he’ll keep a group of little kids enamored with the “magic” before asking if they want to see the finale where he makes the cards disappear. the kids say yes and he just hurls the entire deck into a nearby bush. “there,” he says with pride as he walks away, “they’re gone.” (he would never actually upset the kids. if they look too disappointed he’ll sigh and go get the cards and do an actual disappearing trick just to make them better.)
-definitely takes blue under his wing. they spar like every morning. the other links might try to go on kitchen raids without their parents’/mentors’ knowing but blue goes WITH wes to go steal the best-looking cookies fresh off the baking sheet. arcy always gives wes grief for enabling that behavior but wes knows she won’t actually do anything about it
Selenas
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-another of the captain’s high-ranking knights
-the exasperated lawful good of the group. he tries so hard to get the rest of them to follow the rules but it never works. he knows there’s no point to the efforts anymore but he still tries.
-the constant sigh-er of the group. you’d think he had respiratory issues if you didn’t know him.
-is tasked with helping to keep shadow in line because of his lawful good status. he’s the strict parent who insists upon balanced meals with a lot of vegetables and who believes in a strict 8pm bedtime. he will not hesitate to confiscate shadow’s laptop if he’s misbehaving. shadow despises him but he’s doing all of hyrule a great favor.
-doesn’t safeguard a royal jewel so he’s kind of an outlier but it’s fine, everything’s fine, he doesn’t need a jewel to prove that he’s a good knight and no, he isn’t envious, no not even a tiny bit, why would anyone ask that,
-prefers long-reach weapons like pikes and halberds over swords/daggers
[all of the above-mentioned knights are collectively referred to as the cape squad by the links]
Arcy
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-one of the castle chefs
-an ex-knight; had barely made it into full knighthood before receiving a career-ending injury
-decided to continue work at the castle as a chef so she could still be around friends + to provide for her daughter
-was in the same trainee battalion as artura for armored combat, so they’re old friends
-her daughter is adopted; keina is the biological daughter of a late friend of arcy’s who died from birth complications
-is actually still technically in reserve for the guard; in a state of emergency she’s tasked with aiding evacuation efforts
-she’s the most popular chef among the knights because she takes requests. there’s a weekly competition among battalions and the winning one gets to choose the weekend meals that she makes. it’s a good motivator, especially for the ones in training, and it also gets her friends in high places (:
Keina
(see above images)
-arcy’s adopted daughter
-she’s very sickly; she’s never gone beyond the gates of castle town and barely even leaves the castle grounds. the only time she’s been beyond castle town was when she fled the castle with arcy, and she was in extremely poor health the entire time.
-she’s friends with the links + erune; they’ll often visit her and bring her things from other towns (or in erune’s case, her hometown) so she can still experience new things
-has a lot of pen pals all over hyrule since she can’t leave her home to go see people- she gets like two dozen letters a week and it helps keep her busy
-very knowledgeable on a lot of different subjects! because she’s often home- and sometimes even bed-bound, she spends a lot of time reading and writing and will sometimes illustrate as well. she’d like to be some kind of professional scholar so she can still contribute even when her health prevents her from travel.
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