#just kidding but f@*k bartending

[be-an-echo]

Merry Christmas guyyyss🎄

[flowersandbigteeth]

A Heath the Gargoyle part 2? It’s going to be the 1 year anniversary for his story soon (you posted Dec. 29 2022) and I’d love to see the couple’s relationship in a more established/long term phase. Maybe Heath is getting ready to propose so Y/N doesnt end up “dying alone eaten by local strays”?

I can't believe it's been a whole freaking year!!! Time goes soooo fast! Okay, I didn't make it the 29th...but I'm close ^_^

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Gargoyle (Heath) x F reader

Word Count: 3.5 K

General Plot: You and Heath go to a childhood friend's New Years Party.

Previous Parts

TW: nsfw gargoyle smut, extremally awkward party conversation, p in v sex, flying and being in high places if heights bothers you, discussion of depression, hurt comfort dynamic

“Are you sure this looks good?” Heath asked you, shifting on his feet and plucking at the silver tie you’d fastened to his neck to match your sparkly dress.

“It's perfect!” You beamed, smiling up at him and swatting his hand. “Don't look so nervous!” 

“I don't want to embarrass you,” he said, uncharacteristically shy. 

You snorted. 

“I’m more worried about the opposite,” you sighed. “Just…take anything they say with a grain of salt.” 

“What does that mean?” He asked. 

“Grace and I have been friends since we were kids because my mom works for her dad’s company…I kind of had to be her friend. Don't get me wrong, we were really close when we were kids,” you said. “But now I only see her for her annual New Year's party for my mom's sake. It's all I can stomach…how do I say this…she's kind of…competitive….You'll see.” 

The two of you stood on the doorstep of her boyfriend’s obnoxiously large house, the sound of the party inside filling the chilly night air. You wore a sparkly dress, and Heath a sharp suit customized to fit his wings. 

“Maybe they didn't hear me.” 

You hit the doorbell again, and it let out a hollow DING. 

“I’ve got it!” Someone shouted behind the door. 

You heard the sound of footsteps, and the door swung open to reveal Grace's boyfriend Mark. 

He was a better than average looking guy with blonde hair cut in a trendy style, wearing an expensive suit.

“Well…hello!” Mark said, his head tipping back to meet Heath’s eyes. “You’re…” 

His mouth hung open for a moment, at a loss for words, then they both spoke at once.

“Heath.” 

“Huge.” 

There was an awkward pause before you stepped forward and hugged Mark. 

“Thanks for having us over, Mark!” You beamed, shoving a bottle of champagne in his hand. 

Mark blinked for a moment as you pushed past him, pulling Heath behind you. 

“Grace’s in the kitchen!” He called after the two of you as he shut the door. 

“Hiiii!” Grace squealed as you pushed through partygoers to get to the kitchen. 

It wasn’t particularly difficult since Heath was bigger, harder, and wider than anyone in the room.

Grace looked beautiful, dressed in a glittery champagne bodycon dress. She'd always been lithe, her profile spruced up by a new pair of boobs Mark had bought her.

As usual, her party was perfect, every detail considered. There was a bartender wearing a bow tie serving drinks, the perfect music playing, and fresh flower arrangements everywhere. 

All the furniture had been removed to create a dance floor, and someone had specially designed gold lights to set the mood.

“So this is the man himself!” Grace exclaimed, looking up at Heath with wide eyes. 

“Gargoyle,” you corrected. 

“Right! Right! Henry, wasn't it?” 

Heath gave her a humble smile and stuck out a hand to shake hers. 

“Heath. Nice to meet one of (Y/N)’s friends.” 

She held his hand a moment too long before she dropped it.  

“(Y/N), shame on you for keeping him hidden away!” 

You blushed and put a hand on Heath’s arm, unsure what to say. The two of you had been half hibernating for the winter. You tended to get a bit of depression during the cold, dark months. Heath was more than happy to snuggle up with you and his fluffy little cat Aero and cuddle, which is all you really wanted to do from November to April.

People usually imagined gargoyles sitting stoically in the snow and menacing passerbys, but Heath liked to nest, tucking you both in piles of warm blankets and reading to you while you shared snacks.

Her eyes traveled from the tip of his folded wings, down the trim suit was wearing, to his clawed feet. 

“I can see why,” she went on, her mouth hanging open for a moment before she caught herself. “I'm so glad you two came!” 

“I've been missing my best friend! Let's get you some drinks!” she squealed, leading you out of the kitchen.

Heath glanced down at you and raised an eyebrow.

“Best friend?” He mouthed at you, and you shrugged. 

“Pomegranate martinis for us,” she said to the man behind the bar. 

“What do you like to drink, Heath?” Mark asked, appearing with the bottle of champagne you'd brought and handing it to the bartender. 

“Whatever you've got with Whiskey.”

“Gotcha, big guy,” the bartender said, tossing bottles elegantly as he made the drinks. 

When you were all set up with beverages, Lily led you out onto her back patio. 

“Look at this,” you said, taking in the beautiful outdoor space. “You've been hard at work! It's beautiful out here!” 

She'd put in layers of neatly trimmed flowers and bushes, which were dusted in snow. White lounges were arranged to make comfortable seating areas warmed by blue glass fire pits. The massive pool glowed, steam drifting up from its surface. It looked like it had come straight out of a magazine. 

“Isn't it? Mark got the best landscaper in the state! I'll give you his card!” 

She frowned at you. 

“Oh, you're still in that icky old apartment, aren't you?” she asked.  "You've got to get out of that place. Aren't you afraid of mold? It's terrible for your complexion."

“(Y/N) lives with me. Gargoyles like high places, so I have a flat downtown,” Heath corrected her, then smiled down at you. “Though the only plants we have are potted.” 

“Heath is really good with plants,” you said, smiling back at him with warmth. “He’s made us a whole jungle on the balcony!” 

“Hmm,” Grace hummed, eyes dropping to Heath’s large hands. “You look like you're good with your hands, Heath. You’ll have to come by sometime and give me some lessons.”

Heath’s eyebrows rose, glancing down at you for help. 

“How’s work going, Mark?” You asked to change the subject. 

“Mark got a promotion,” Grace said before he could answer. “He's a senior account manager at Dawson and Shields.” 

“Congratulations, Mark,” you said politely. 

He raised his drink and put a possessive arm over Grace’s shoulder. 

Before anyone could speak, one of Grace’s’s friends practically ran towards you, eyes on your hulking boyfriend. 

“(Y/N)!” Mary wailed, throwing her arms around you in a way she’d never done before. 

“Oh…Oof!” you gasped, catching her weight. “Uh…nice to see you again, Mary. This is my boyfriend, Heath.” 

He put his hand out to shake hers, but she shoved her body past it, attempting to plaster herself to his chest.

“We do hugs here!” Mary brayed. 

He took an awkward step backward, gently pushing Mary off of him with one large hand. 

“Sorry,” he said, tapping his nose. “Your perfume. My kind is very sensitive to scent.” 

He folded his big body down and tucked his nose into the spot where your neck met your shoulder, tapping a small kiss into your skin and subtly sniffing your neck as if he was cleansing his pallet. 

Mary’s face turned bright red, and she took a step back. 

“Are you still working at that bookstore?” Grace asked, filling the awkward silence.  

Before you could answer, she turned to Heath.

“I've been trying to tell (Y/N) it's time to get a grown-up job for years now. I mean, who works minimum wage at some shabby little bookstore at our age, don't you think?” 

Heath glanced at you and tipped his head to the side in a way you recognized as annoyance, though didn't look it. He took a sip of his drink to hide his frown.  

“What do you do, Grace?” He asked when he’d straightened his face.  

Excited to talk about herself, she went on, her hands waving around as she talked. 

“I'm a beauty influencer!” she said. 

“Beauty…influencer?” Heath asked. “I'm not sure I know what that means.”

She stuck out her chest to show off the Chanel necklace resting just above her cleavage. 

“I model jewelry, makeup, and nails,” she said. “Then I do reviews on all the products!” 

“Oh..uh…neat,” he said, trying to be friendly for your sake.“I didn't know that was a job. Do the brands pay you?” 

Her bright smile fell for just a moment before she plastered it back on. 

“Well…No, but I'm hoping to get some sponsorships this year!” She said. “I have 1,000 followers on TikTok!”  

Heath gave her a blank look. 

“Tik… Tok?” He asked, glancing down at you for guidance. 

“Um…it started as an app for teenagers to lip-sync popular songs, but now lots of people use it!” you explained. 

He raised his eyebrows but was at a loss for words.  

“What do you do for work, Heath?” Mark asked. 

“I own a shabby little bookstore,” he said before taking a long drag of his drink. 

“Oh!” Grace said with a stilted smile. 

There was another incredibly awkward silence. 

“Well, I think that's wonderful!” Mary cheered, squeezing his elbow. “There aren't enough brick-and-mortar stores these days! Everything is online!” 

Heath brightened, though he took a half step away from Mary.

“We do a lot of online business, as well.” 

He brushed his heavy hand over your hair, affectionately. 

“We?” Grace asked. 

“I made (Y/N) my co-owner.” 

“Wow, sleeping with the boss, (Y/N),”  Mary snickered. “I never thought you had it in you.” 

You blushed, but Heath folded you under his arm. 

“It’s the other way around,” Heath chuckled, brushing his thumb over your bare shoulder as he spoke. “(Y/N) is the boss. She’s got more of a mind for business than me. I'm just a book nerd, but she’s a marketing genius. Sales were dropping the year before last, so she managed to turn the store into more of a destination. Since she took over things, we've started focusing on hard-to-find antiques and hosting auction events. Profits have quadrupled.” 

“Oh!” Mark said, snapping his fingers. “Of course! You own Gargoyle Book Gallery! That's a legend! My boss loves antique books...first editions and all that. He raves about your spot all the time!” 

Heath tipped his drink at Mark. 

“Donny Shields, right? He comes by for poker night.” 

“Poker night?” Mark asked. 

Heath nodded. 

“Some guys from the Business League come over on Saturdays to play a couple of hands of poker and shoot the shit,” he explained. 

Mark’s eyebrows shot up. 

“I'd love to get in on that!” He said, eyes almost green with envy. "Can't imagine the conversations over that table!"

Heath shrugged. 

“We’ve got a full table now, but if a spot opens up, I’ll ask the guys,” he said. 

Grace decided too much time had passed without anyone paying attention to her. 

“Now that Mark is on track to be partner, we are going to buy a new house!” she said. “I don’t understand how you can stand to live in a tiny apartment!” 

Mark looked at her like he did not, in fact, want to buy a new house. 

“We’re still discussing it,” he said. 

Grace smacked him on the arm. 

“Don’t be silly, Mark,” she said. “With your raise, we can afford something bigger!” 

“I mean, I spend a lot of money on your stuff for TikTok, Grace,” he murmured. “Maybe if you were pulling in some revenue-” 

Grace smacked him again, harder this time, and gave him a look that said, “Shut up if you know what’s good for you.” 

“This place is really nice,” Heath offered Mark, trying to be diplomatic. “Plenty of room for a family.” 

They both spoke at once. 

“We aren’t starting a family.” 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought when I bought it.” 

You and Heath glanced at one another and took long sips of your drinks. 

“I have my career to think of!” Grace said while Mark found somewhere else to look. 

“That’s a pity. You’d be a great mom!” Mary said. “You could be a mommy blogger. Your fans would love that. You and Mark would have beautiful babies.”  

“Of course. We have excellent genes,” Grace said, enjoying being complimented. 

Her eyes slid mischievously to you. 

“What about you two?” she asked. “Are you thinking of starting a family?” 

You and Heath’s eyes met. 

“Maybe,” Heath said. “If you want to.” 

Your cheeks warmed, but not from embarrassment. 

“I’d like that,” you said. 

Grace frowned. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she asked. 

The two of you looked at her, confused. 

“You know, because of your mental illness. You wouldn’t want to pass that on to your kids…and how can you be a good mom with depression?” 

Your heart dropped, and tears flooded your eyes. It shouldn’t have gotten to you. You knew how Grace was, but it still hurt. It was something you’d always felt a little insecure about. 

Heath’s mouth fell open, and he shoved his glass into Mark’s hand. 

“It was nice to meet you, Mark,” he said before he scooped you up in his arms, and with a heavy pump of his wings, the two of you shot up into the night sky. 

He flew a couple of blocks away, before he stopped and hovered in place.  

Tears slid down your cheeks, leaving an icy streak as they cooled. 

“Are you okay?” Heath asked as the two of you hung suspended in the cold December air.

You sniffled, wiping your tears. 

“Yeah…I told you…Grace is competitive. She doesn’t like anyone looking better than her,” you whimpered. 

You felt a low growl in his chest. 

“That’s no excuse,” he said. “I think you’ll be a great mom. I’m not the least bit worried.” 

“But what if she’s right?” you asked. “What if I’m a terrible mom? What if my kids are messed up or something?” 

Heath let out a chuff with no humor. 

“That’s nonsense, teacup,” he said. “Depression is pretty common…and you manage yours just fine. Nobody is a perfect parent, and everyone has different challenges. Grace sounds like some kind of eugenicist. It’s creepy, to be honest.” 

“Are you sure?” you asked. “You don’t wish you had a perfect girlfriend like Grace?” 

Heath laughed out loud. 

“Grace is not the perfect girlfriend. Sooo far from it. I kind of feel bad for Mark, to be honest,” he said. “You on the other hand…” 

He tucked his head in the crook of your neck, smattering kisses over the skin. 

“You are smart…sweet…patient…incredibly patient,” he whispered, kissing you or nibbling with each word. “I have no idea how you put up with that woman.” 

“You get used to it,” you murmured. 

He tipped your face up to his. 

“I don’t want you to get used to that kind of meanness,” he said. “I don’t want to control who you see…but I don’t like them. I’d rather spend the rest of New Year's with you if that’s okay, not some snobby weirdos.” 

He adjusted you in his arms, nudging you to loop your legs around his waist. You pressed yourself against his warm body to chase away the chill of the night air. With one arm holding you to him, he cupped the nape of your neck, guiding your lips to his with the other. 

He tasted like oaky whiskey, making your mouth water. His heavy kisses chased any thoughts of Grace or the party away. 

Hovering in the inky night with the twinkling lights of the city sparkling in every direction, your only focus was Heath’s thick hand holding you securely in place and his lips on yours. 

You ground your hips into his body, delighted to feel his hardening shaft meet your core. 

His hand slipped down your neck, tugging the front of your dress down with a stiff jerk. The straps snapped, and your breasts tumbled out. 

“Heath,” you gasped, but he hushed you with another deep kiss before speaking. 

“It’s dark. No one can see us. Let me make you feel good.” 

He dipped his head, drawing a peaked nipple into his mouth. The contrast of his hot tongue and the chilly air made you quake. He licked and sucked one nipple and then the other until you’d completely forgotten everything going on below. Your world shrank to just Heath and all the decadent things he could do to your body. 

Your head fell back, pleasure snaking up and down your spine as he delighted you. Thick fingers roughly shoved the skirt of your dress up your thighs, and he traced your slit, growling at how wet you were for him. Another swift jerk and your shredded panties were fluttering a hundred feet down to the snowy earth. 

You gasped his name, but he was high on your scent and taste, wholly focused on giving you pleasure. He screwed two fingers inside of you, opening you up for him. You let out a needy whimper when they pulled out for a moment but were quickly replaced with his tail, thrusting in and out of you. 

You hardly heard the buzz of his zipper, your eyes rolling back in your head. With a tight thrust of his hips, his tail slipped away, and his thick cock filled you. He clutched your ass with a deep, satisfied grunt. 

A hundred feet up in the sky, you didn’t dare unhook your arms from around his neck, so you were at his mercy as he slammed his shaft into you. You bleated lusty yelps with every smack of his heavy balls against your skin, clinging to him for dear life. You were dizzy from fear blending with pleasure, your breaths ragged gasps. There was nothing between you and falling to your death but Heath’s enormous arms and powerful wings. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, (Y/N),” he growled into your ear, practically feral from the way your channel spasmed around his cock. You were tight, wet, hot, and the only woman in the world he wanted. Gripping your ass, he used your cunt like a fleshlight, slamming his cock into you over and over again. 

The tip of his naughty tail circled your clit, pushing you closer and closer to your end until there was nowhere else to go, and you went careening over the edge. With the addition of your pussy strangling his cock he couldn’t hold back any longer, his final thrusts savage and bruising.

Your stomach dropped as he lost control of his wings for a moment, and the two of you dipped into a free fall for a few seconds. You felt his searing cum fill you as you screamed into his chest. The confusing sensation of falling and his cum filling your womb slammed you into another unexpected orgasm. You bounced in his arms as he steadied the two of you. 

“Heath!” you gasped, your nails digging into his neck. 

“It’s okay, teacup, I’ve got you,” he muttered as he titled his wings, and the two of you streaked across the city. 

Instead of heading home, he deposited you on the roof of a tall building downtown. 

“Wait here,” he said, zipping his fly, and before you could say anything, he swooped away. 

When he returned a few minutes later, he was holding a bottle of champagne. 

“Where did that come from?” you laughed as he settled next to you and tugged you into his lap. 

“I stole it from a party going on down there,” he chuckled. “Don’t worry, they have plenty.” 

You giggled, leaning back into his chest, while he popped the top, aiming the spray off of the edge of the building, before tipping a little into your mouth.

There was a pop, and fireworks exploded in the sky across the city. 

He turned you around to him, slipping something out of his pocket.

"I wanted to do this tonight...but things didn't go quite as planned..." he said, appearing suddenly nervous.

You tipped your head to the side, confused until he opened the little box in his hand revealing a pretty ring.

"Heath!" you gasped your hand going to your lips.

"(Y/N)," he said. "Since the day I hired you, my world changed. At first it was just a fantasy crush. I mean, as your boss...I felt like it was wrong to act on it...but something about you is irresistible. It was impossible not to fall in love with you. Impossible not to steal you away.

Then we started dating and for awhile, I thought that was enough...but as the year went on...I realized I was happier than I'd ever been and you seemed...happier than I'd ever seen you...So...I want to make this permanent. If...you want that..."

Your eyes danced from the ring up to Heath's eyes. More fireworks bloomed in the sky, and you could see them reflected in Heath’s dark irises.

"Are...you asking me to marry you, Heath?" you asked.

"I guess I forgot the most important question," he said, giving you a shy chuckle. "(Y/N), will you marry me?"

Tears filled your eyes again, but this time for the best reason.

"Yes! Of course! I love you, Heath! I want to be with you forever!" you said.

“I love you, too (Y/N). Happy New Year,” he said quietly, slipping the ring out of the velvet and slipping it on your finger.

“Happy New Year, Heath,” you said tucking your head into his cozy shoulder and watching the fireworks make your engagement ring sparkle.

[harryleatherfit]

Entergalatic🍸

Frankie Morales Oneshot x F!Reader || 5.1 k

you’re a law school student and you just recently moved to a new neighborhood, you happen to be neighbors with frankie morales. he comes around sometimes to help fix things, but tonight you’re at the same bar, under a beautiful night in miami.

warnings: any themes in triple frontier, mention of NA, mentions of using coke, mentions of substance abuse, choking, overstimulation, squirting, cum play, unprotected p in v, oral f! receiving, pearl necklace, alcohol consumption, mentions of masturbation, mentions of creampie (WEAR A CONDOM PLS)

lmk if i’ve missed anymore thx

ONE-SHOT PLAYLIST

Disco Tits- Tove Lo

Entergalatic- Kid Cudi

Replay- Dorian Electra Remix Lady Gaga

🪩Main Master List🪩

Frankie had suggested that he and the guys should go to the bar for a night of distress. They were all on edge for their trip to Columbia, after a long night of elongating their plan, they would all start to bicker. Never getting a second to spare for themselves, never getting a moment to slip away and forget their responsibilities, plus their past lives.

Redfly, Benny, Ironhead and Fish himself were putting everything on the line for Pope. He was fucking his informant, and he was letting his feelings get in the way for his line of work. Per usual of Santi.

Fish was bored, he had nothing to lose anymore. He was tired of chasing after the military and wasting his life away trying to get his flying license back. He was done with the fucking coke, done using and wasting his life away.

But he was hungry for more. Feral like a bear to have his life back. He wanted to settle down, start a life of his own. Run away and become somebody that he didn’t recognize. He wanted love. He wanted to be loved, but could he reciprocate that love? He’s broken and always has been.

Out of the whole group, he felt like he was the least to find love, his life was fucked the most, and after finishing his NA meetings, he felt whole as a person. For so long he was trying to push help away but it worked on him somehow. He wanted himself back.

They were walking in the Miami heat, turning down a busy street downtown, it was fucking crazy full at this hour, people from all walks of life filling every crevice of the road. Was it some holiday?

They peered into a club that was full to the brim. A dance floor, live music, a bar to drink at. Frankie couldn’t have asked for more.

They get past the bouncer, finding a corner near the back of the bar, hunkering down their space in the midst of all the chaos. It reeked of sex and alcohol. Gotta fucking love Miami, he thought.

He appreciated the small things, this crowd was beautiful and dressed so vibrantly, the dark sky with the full moon was gorgeous, and the music was floating inside his ears. Every second that passes his heart jumps for more.

He flags down the bartender, “I’ll get uh Whiskey Sour, you guys know what you want?”

They order their drinks and settle in their chairs.

An idea sparks in Frankies head, “Benny, how much money to go up to a random pretty girl and start dancin with her?”

“You’re fuckin crazy, you tryin to start some game topshot?” He barks back.

“Nah, tryin to see how far you’ll go for pussy.” He huffs under his breath, chasing it with another whiskey.

“Very fucking funny Fish, if thats what you want.”

Benny gets up, setting his jacket down, and he dove into the crowd of dancing people.

It’ll be a fun night for the pretty boy, Fish laughed.

“Hey, you guys know it’s a college night here. I think for Miami college that’s why it's so full. I don’t know if you’ll find much to do here.” The Bartender shouts over the music.

College night. Would you be here?

He glances over at the crowd, looking between every body. Searching.

“You’ve got plan s’to Fish?” Pope slurs.

“Maybe.” He can feel the pump of his heart quicken.

And finally he sees you, the sun in the room.

You were wearing this gorgeous orange sundress with golden flakes spread across the bottom, complimenting your skin tone. The top half caressing you, not only hugging you in every crevice but revealing your tattoos. He had only ever seen your tattoos when you ran in the neighborhood.

You had recently moved in next to him for the school year. You were living alone, after a long partying phase for your earlier years of college. You were in law school right now, and you had to focus.

You had met your neighbor. Ran into him a couple times around town, seeing each outside your houses, he would see you wash your car, you would drool over him through your window when you saw him cleaning his motorcycle.

There were a few times you were having house troubles, and you would saunter over, hoping he was able to help you. You didn’t exactly have thousands of dollars to pay someone to fix tiny things about your house.

When he would come over, he was always so polite, so gentle and kind to you. As you would immediately open the door, the brightest smile would wave across his face, the dimples in his cheeks deeplining into his face. The lines next to eyes, the deep furrow of his eyebrows, the strong curve of his nose. His strong, bulky arms. His fucking arms. The curve of his stomach, never failing to peek through his shirt. You screamed yourself to sleep, rubbing the ache away in your heated core, your clit craved his fingers.

He would always pick up his hat, and run his hands through his thick, dark hair. But when he would walk through the entrance of your house, you would have butterflies. You couldn’t calm yourself, and you would always be so hyper aware around him. He could never be attracted to you, you couldn’t have been his type, and you were so self conscious all the time. Being a young girl in college can really mess with your head.

You couldn’t guess how much older he was than you, you weren’t sure if he was in a relationship, so you decided to keep your distance. You didn’t want to get in the way of his peaceful life.

But from afar, you looked so happy on the dance floor. Frankie was studying your every single move. Your hair swishes, you pull strands back to relieve your face. Sweat collects all over your neck from dancing, watching the rise and fall of your chest. He watched the fast motion of your head falling back with the music, your friends crowding around you, giggling in the air.

You were so radiant, desirable, and happy.

You spotted him immediately when he walked in with his friends. Your friends immediately called dibs on all of them except for Frankie, so ironic, how could no one want a man as fucking hot as him?

You were hoping he would see you, pull you away, and wish your woes away just for one night.

But you didn’t have the courage to go up to him, you felt so small compared to him. How could you mean anything to him?

And finally you trust yourself enough to make eye contact with him. He’s already looking you up and down, sliding the last of his drink down. He looked like a lion, ready to lunge across a meadow to claim what's his.

He was wearing his usual trucker hat, his locks peeking beneath the sides. A black leather jacket, stretching across his body, unzipped. He was wearing a low cut white undershirt with a v line, for you could see his exposed happy trail. And his last addition, gold chains on his neck and wrists.

Usually guys your age tried to wear chains to make them more appealing, to lure girls into bed and get their cock sucked and go, but Frankie wearing this chain wasn’t just that. This was his flaunt, his teasing. You knew he had money, but not sure how much he had.

“Hey, what’s all this eye fucking with they guy over there, he’s looking at you like he’s gonna eat you for a meal.” Your friend Lexie yells into your ear.

“The night is still young Lexie,” You brace your hands on her shoulders, “Let him look at me.” You purr into her ear.

Immediately something ticked in Frankies brain, he needed your hands around him. He needed to be with you, alone.

“Fish, what's gotten you so quiet?” Ironhead pats him on the shoulder, “You’re practically drooling over the damn floor on the edge of your seat.”

“My neighbor, she’s here.” He chokes.

“That college girl you were tellin us about, yeah? The one with the house troubles.” Pope asks. “You thinkin anything could come out of it?”

“I don’t know, possibly. She’s a fuckin sweetheart. She gets all shaky when I come over.”

“That’s a sign man, go gettem.” Redfly claps his shoulder.

“Not after another fuckin drink.” He needed to be intoxicated enough to not be different around you, he wanted to be himself around you.

He shoots it down, getting up and receiving cheers from the boys. He couldn’t handle them anymore, he needed you.

When he gets up, the pain in your lower abdomen soothes, you could feel the gravitational pull enclosing.

He makes his way through the crowd, weaving through the bodies, making the most blood curdling eye contact with you, you break free from your friends.

“I didn’t think I would ever find you at a bar, Mr. Morales.” You smirk.

That name you always used, insisted, made his cock twitch in the tight cloth of his jeans.

“Please, call me Frankie.” You laugh and roll your eyes, with all the people on the dance floor, you two are enclosed. In your little bubble away from the loud world.

You had a tumbler full of Vodka in your hand, you took a swig of it and offered it to him.

“No I’m okay darlin, don’t want too much tonight.” He stares at you while you take another drink.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Morales.” Winking at him, edging him on. The intoxication from the alcohol makes you feel so free you can say anything around him. He moves closer to you, finding your ear to whisper in, “I know what you’re doing pretty girl, usin that name.” He whispers.

A song change, some Kid Cudi song and the crowd raised havoc, but nothing changed between you two. You were closer than ever, practically hugging each other so when you spoke you could hear each other.

“Look at you, wearing this perfect dress, your hair tied up, your tattoos peakin out.”

“You like what you see?” You ask. This is it.

“Do I like what I see? I always have darlin,” He finds your hand and kisses your wrist, “Don’t be shy on me now.”

You put your hands around his neck and dance to the beat of the song. Entergalactic.

His hands were roaming around on your back, and you could feel the tight cold leather against your chest, making your nipples harden.

You flipped around so his chest could be against your back, and his hands were touching your torso. Up and down.

You decided to swirl your ass against his lower half, falling down to the ground and getting back up, letting loose with the music. He twirled you around a few times, getting in rhythm with your body.

You feel the metal of his belt, only a thin layer of fabric on your body separating you from him.

You could feel growth expanding on your ass, you wanted more.

“You little minx, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” His eyes peering into your soul.

“I know exactly what I’m getting myself into Francisco.” You purr.

Not only did Frankie snarl, but the animal inside him snapped. He needed you now.

“Hm, need another drink?” He grabs your hand, pulling you off the dance floor.

Immediately you feel the slick pooling down your leg.

You didn’t care about your friends calling after you, and you didn’t care about anything that's happening right now. You needed Frankie immediately.

Frankie walks back with a water bottle in hand, smart man.

“Walk with me gorgeous.”

You follow him, he found a secluded hallway across the bathroom, behind the ruckus of the club, no one to be seen in sight.

“What could someone like you, be here at a club at this hour?” He asks, in a pitch you couldn’t even register.

“I tagged along with my friends, I was bored at home. Nothing to study, no one to screw.”

He chuckles, “No one to fuck, huh?” The heat between you both ticks up a thousand degrees, “And how do you like to be fucked angel?”

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” You repeat.

The world comes crashing down when he shoves his lips onto yours. Moving so quickly you don’t know where you are in space and time. All you can smell is him, all you can feel is him.

In between breaths, “I like to be fucked rough and hard.” You reach your hand down to his cock, “I want to be fucked so hard I can’t think.”

With those words, he can’t hold back anymore, he picks you up. Pulling your legs around his waist, carrying you into the bathroom. Messily locking the door behind him. He slams you down onto the counter and grabs your face, pulling your lips in. His tongue invades your mouth. Never leaving and exploring you as a whole.

Your legs wrap around him again, the sting in your pussy hurting so bad. You needed relief. He withdrew from your lips and started to lap at your throat. You were half-lidded, barely being able to see what was going on. The ecstasy of oxytocin firing off in your brain. You couldn’t comprehend words, let alone understand that Frankie Morales was anchored to you right now.

Your skin was so soft, you melted under Frankies touch. He was sucking so hard on your neck you knew it would bruise so heavily but you didn’t care. You were his for the night. The whole world could know that. His fucking slut.

He trailed down your throat, shoving his hands under your dress finding your bare hard nipples.

“You poor thing, pretty slut not getting her fucking in for the night.” He mutters under his breath.

The pleasure you felt from his thick heavy fingers under your dress added to your fire.

He pushed the straps of your dress past your shoulders exposing your tits. He attacks each nipple, swirling one in his mouth and pinching the other. He popped off, blowing air on it. This makes you squirm, throwing your head back to the turbulent feeling.

He pushes your dress past your legs, all the fabric meeting at your stomach.

He stances wider, opening your legs wider. He grazed his hands over your covered mound, teasing you. You were laying on your elbows, looking down at his bulge, the swell of his belly meeting your core. His body fit yours so earth shatteringly.

“All wrapped up for me, sweet thing. So pretty and perfect. You wear lace every night?”

“On nights, I know I’m gonna get fucked.” You cry.

“Fucking slut, knew she was gonna get fucked from the start, didn’t think it was gonna be me, yeah?”

“If nothing happened here,” You heave, “I was gonna go home, walk my ass to your house, and get fucking pounded.”

Each word you say coaxes him more, sliding your underwear off, relieving your pussy from its tremor. He bites his lower lip, “Look at you pretty girl, pussy leakin everywhere.” He skims your entrance collecting your juices on his fingertips. “Only a slut can be this wet, my fuckin slut.” He shoves three fingers inside your sopping cunt, stretching you so wide. He starts off slow, but then he sets an unbearable pace.

“Frankie, that’s too fast, if you keep going I’m gonna come.” You wine.

“You ain’t gonna come just fuckin yet, not before my hand gets tired.” You’re practically dripping all over his wrist. The squelching of your pussy filling the room, along with the guttural mewls coming from your throat.

Frankies arm was working you so electrically, the veins in his arms were glistening. The muscles in his shoulders are so thick, his jacket was barely even on now, his shirt leaving none to the imagination.

Black ink, scaling all over his body. The thought of your pussy grazing his soft stomach, made you want to do unspeakable things. That alone made you want to be his whore. Only his fucking whore.

He spit on your cunt, lubing you up for more. The contact of the liquid makes you flinch. He wasn’t holding you anymore, he was burying his fingers inside you, bringing his other hand to work your clit.

‘Its- its- too much. Too much Frankie- I can’t last.” You gasp.

“No, you’re not allowed to cum, sluts don’t come.” He grunts in your ear, shoving his whole hand inside your tight pussy, “You think you get to come? You think just because you’re so close you get to come?”

“Please Frankie- I’ll be so good- ngh- fuck- fuck, I’ll be the best girl in the world.” You howl.

The whole club could practically hear Frankie finger fucking you.

“I can hear ya y’know? At night. I can hear callin out my name when you play with this pretty pussy. I bet you have a pretty pink dildo so deep inside ya thinking it’s my cock fillin you up.”

You can’t take anymore, the more he speaks, the tighter your walls become, “I bet you bring a little vibrator to this bud, torturing it, wishing it was my tongue.”

“I didn’t-ah- fuck-shi- I didn’t think I was that- loud. My window’s always-closed.”

“No, gorgeous. You scream so good, I can feel your body convulsing when you come because of me.” He licks a long stripe on your tit, “Look, fluttering on my fingers, fuckin pussy can’t take it can she. It’sokay ‘cause I’m gonna fuck you til you can’t see.” Fastening his pace again, “You can fuckin come now, come on these fingers like the slut I know you are,” Tears forming at the edge of your eyes, you can’t take the burn in your pussy, too powerful. Slamming your hands to his wrists, trying to make him stop but he just kept going.

“My fucking pussy.” He gives his last pump inside you, lifting his fingers to his mouth. Groaning around his digits. “You taste so sweet angel, pussy so sweet I’d get fuckin fat on eatin you out every night.”

Breaching your climax, chest heaving at a million miles per hour, “No matter what you look like,” You rub your hands along his torso, you wish you could worship his stomach, his powerful body, “I’ll always be fuckin yours Frankie.”

He sloppily finds your lips again, kissing you until you can’t feel the throb in your sopping cunt.

“Said you were gonna be a good girl?” He questions, easing the fuse on your clit. Shaking your head yes, “Give me your hands.” No questions asked, you put your hands in front of your bodies, waiting for your next instruction, just like his obedient little slut.

You watch him step back, loosening his belt and slipping it out of the loops to his jeans.

“Gonna fuckin tie me up? Tie me up like a fuckin whore, takin your cock and not able to do a thing about it?” You taunt. Rubbing your pussy on the fabric of his jeans, soaking his crotch area.

He takes the belt and slaps your pussy with it, you jump at the sensation, hitting your clit just right, groaning just thinking about being tied up like a fucking bunny, not able to move and his cock relentlessly slipping out of you.

“You fuckin dirty girl, likin her pussy to be slapped. Dirty dirty fuckin whore.” Tugging at your wrists to go above your head, weaving the belt to keep your hands snug together.

He gets on his knees, eyes level with eachother, “Give me one more beautiful, give me one more and then I’ll give you my fuckin cock.”

His tongue melding into your cunt, delving so far to a point you couldn’t reach yourself. He wrapped his hands around your waist, bringing you closer to the edge of the sink. Sitting you up as your legs dangle off his back. Heels clicking against each other.

His tongue drives inside you so fast, screaming the fire away in your lungs.

You roll your hips over his face, feeling the hook of his nose brush your clit, sinking further onto his face. He hums, moving his face side to side, pulsating his tongue. Not being able to move your hands made you squirm, trying to relieve the ache in your blazing core so quickly.

Once his tongue reaches a hole you’d never think to touch yourself, you tighten.

“Never had your ass full before?” He asks.

“No, never.” You whimper.

“It’s s’okay, one day princess.” He coos, “I heard when you fuck a girl so fast in the ass, she squirts instantaneously because the pleasur is so intoxicating the pussy doens’t know which is which.” He chuckles.

Thinking about squirting on Frankies dick, makes you spasm, the orgasm bursting out of you from nowhere.

“Hmmm, that’s it baby, come all over my fuckin face, give it all to me.”

Once he’s done devouring the last of your sensitive nub, he gets up, undoing his belt to your hands, letting it drop to the floor. Never being so relieved to touch him again.

“That was really fucking good Frankie, jesus.” You shiver.

“Don’t thank me yet, darlin. Haven’t even fucked you yet.”

The thought of seeing his cock now made your eyes roll to the back of your head, finally getting to feel his length break you open.

“Go on, get the fucker out. See it for yourself.”

You gulp, bracing yourself. You fiddle with the button to his pants, ultimately undoing it and sliding his pants down partially. You could feel your entrance fluttering, finally just one more layer.

You reach the band of his boxers, slowly bringing them down rescinding a seethe from Frankie through his teeth. And fucking finally all you were waiting for the whole night.

His cock was fucking thick and long. You’ve never seen a dick this long before. The head of his cock so red and needy, ready to fill you. Ready to fill his dumb cock whore.

“Jesus Frankie, it is gonna fit?” You whimper, you just want to feel him sinking inside you already.

“Princess, I’ll fucking make it fit, don’t worry.” He kisses your cheek.

He gives his cock a few pumps in his hand. Wait, you need a condom.

“Frankie, we need a condom, quick.” You weep.

“I’ll put out. I promise.” You side eye him, every fucking guy says that.

“I promise, no babies tonight.” He winks at you.

God your babies would be fucking adorable. His babies mixed with you. Horny motherfucker.

“No more pussy if you don’t pull out, that’s it.”

“Can’t say that now, can ya? This pussy’s been mine and always will be mine.” He snaps.

He takes his cock, rubbing his cock with the swollen lips of your cunt. Mixing your slick with his pre-cum.

“Look at ya, already got cock brain, pussy’s quiverin for me.”

“Just fuck me already, cock can’t do anything but be soft” You purr.

“I’m gonna fuck that mouth away, just you watch.” And he slams into you, “This pussy ain't gonna be the same when we go home.”

And at the hilt, he thrusts into your pussy, splitting you open. Your jaw dropping, as his dick breaches you.

“Oh my- fucking god. Frankie, you’re so big- so so big.” You mewl. He keeps pushing inside you, cock sliding in and out of you, your liquids sliding out of your hole, slipping to the ground. His shirt riding up over his love handles, pants laying on his upper thighs. The happy trail on his pillowed stomach colliding with your mound. Fucking into you so right, his balls were hitting the back of your legs. Girthy cock never failing to make you flail like a fucking thumper bunny, making your body go into shock.

“Gonna fuckin come when I say you can come. Hear me? Gonna fuck this pussy so deep your can feel it in your throat.” He yells.

You can barely acknowledge what he's saying so lost in the midst of it all, your throat bare from screaming.

“So- deep Frankie- so fuckin deep-.” You scream.

You sit up on the counter to hold onto him, to pull him closer as he fucks up into you, the angle making you go dizzy. You both were so sweaty, the slap of your bodies together making your skin flush red.

“Fuckin whore,” He grunts, “Pussy lips fittin like a glove, cock so good, it’s practically slipping out. Fuck baby.” He’s pounding into you so fast you can’t breathe, the whimpers from your body disappearing. His hands grab your waist, pulling you in and out on his dick, holding you steady.

“I’m your fucking whore,” You cry, “Always you’re fuckin whore. Been waiting- so fuckin- long to be fucked by you. Been such a good girl for this cock.” You shiver, “Want to be fuckin bruised tonight, want be used.”

“Oh baby, just my fuckin needy whole, just a fuckin cum dump. My pretty little cum dump just waitin for what's hers.”

He pumps into you, tantalizing the spongy spot inside your willowing cunt. As he pulls out, the pain is so sharp from being empty you could fall over and shrivel up.

He keeps kissing you, fucking into you and bouncing with you up an down. Saying his name over and over again as a prayer. Only Frankie can do this to you. Finally getting fucked by your next door neighbor.

“You’re right- fuck- ngh- keep going. You caught me- I’ve dreamt about this- since- shit- I moved in. The moment- ah fuck- I saw you, I wanted to suck you off. I imagined your- fingers inside me every night.” You were trembling, sweating beading over your face, you wanted to come so bad but he fucking said no.

“Strugglin their sweetheart? Pussy want something?”

“I want to fuckin cum Frankie, I want to come over your dick and feel you dripping out of me. Please, fill me up, dump into me. Fill me so full I’m dripping of you all night and everyone can see.”

“Dick brain taking over too much baby, not tonight but another night.” He soothes.

Another night, more nights with him. More nights being drunk on Frankie.

“Come on, let’s make this pussy cum again, yeah?”

You nod your head, and you aren’t prepared for what happens next.

He picks you up from the counter, walking towards a wall of the bathroom and propping you there, using the support of his thighs to keep you up. This could make you cum alone.

You were hovering over his dick against the wall, him pulling you up and down again, clamping down on his glistening cock, covered of you.

Bouncing on his cock, the angle unleashed something in you. Not only was the head of dick flittering with the spongy area of your pussy, but his length kept kissing your cervix, tearing you open.

“My dirty fucking slut, loving that my cocks breaking her tight little pussy open, “ You wail, the intermissable things he’s said to you tonight never fails to make your pussy clamp around his cock. His dirty fucking mouth making you cum to see the stars. He wraps his hand around your throat, closing your airway enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your head. His fingers over the correct veins, cutting off circulation to your brain.

“Like being choked? Like my big fuckin hand wrapped around your throat?” He snarls, “Those pretty eyes can’t focus when a dicks controlling her brain.”

You feel your stomach swell, a feeling you haven’t felt in a while, this balloon close to popping in your lower belly, never able to hide itself.

“I can feel it too, pretty girl, let go for me, douse my cock. Cum for me.” He purrs into your ear.

“Frankie- it’s strong- it’s too much- i’m gonna- im’ gonna fuckk.” Your mind blanks.

And hesitantly but surely, you hear a stream leaving your pussy, leaking all over his cock and onto the bathroom floor, soaking the hairs of his happy trail. Making the light denim of his jeans turn into a deep indigo from the leakage of your pussy.

“Yes- squirt all over my fuckin cock, yesss, pussy so perfect.” He places a hand on your stomach, feeling for his dick in the depths of your body, “See what my dick can do to your body? See when you’re a good girl you get to squirt all over me, and feel my cock all the way in this tight little pussy?”

You shudder, you almost shut down from all the pleasure, but he doesn’t stop just yet after your cunt stopped spurting out water. He forces you back on his cock a few more times, this is for himself you figure.

“God so fucking- good for me- pussy shovin me out, so tight and slick,” He shudders, “Such a pretty girl, so happy you live next to me gorgeous.” He pulls out, setting you briskly down on the floor, falling to your knees from being so numb.

Giving his beading cock a few more pumps, “Fuck where can I cum? Fuck- baby I’m not gonna last much longer, it’s-”

“Cum on my fucking neck, give me a pearl necklace Francisco.” You look into his eyes. Hot white spurts of Frankies cum falling all over your neck, your tongue managing to catch some. So salty and sweet, the perfect treat. He’s holding onto the wall, chest heaving so heavy, cock dangling in the air, your hand at the tip of his dick, collecting more cum to swirl into your mouth.

“Fuckin dirty girl, wearin me like I’m jewelry.” He laughs, “Gonna go out in public and show me off or what?”

“Couldn’t have you sleeping out my pussy, so I can have you slipping down my tits.”

He couldn’t believe the nasty head you had, but he fucking loved it, he loved everything about you. He wet a cloth to clean you up, to sooth the dull ache in your lower abdomen. You were so blissed out you would have fallen asleep.

“Come home with me.” He asks.

You did.

————

heyy everyone🙋🏻‍♀️ so how’d i do. tad scared this isn’t good bc it’s my first one shot BUT DAMNNNNNN

[soranihimawari]

Promises on a Playground

Pairing: timeskip!ushiwaka x f!Olympian reader

Word count: 3.1+K

Warnings: none (?) an allusion to morning after

Rating: UWF (ushijima wakatoshi fluff)// sfw

Ushijima Wakatoshi, power server and ace canon of team Japan is seen at a bar in the middle of a club centric zone. It’s later than he thinks especially with the rest of the Adlers behind him. Tonight everyone in their roster is celebrating the redrafting of their teammates to the 2024 Olympic Games in Europe. Coincidentally, since his wrist accident during the off season happened early last year, this might be his second or third Olympics before officially playing a farewell season. He’s not getting any younger and his mother, bless Ushijima-sama, is praying he soon finds a person he loves just as fiercely as the sport he loves.

The club is hosting a private jazz lounge area so everyone can mingle with each other. Various players from the MSBY, Saõ Paulo, and even a few EJP Rajins are there too. All of them came back to celebrate their return to their national teams. All except Oikawa who is taking break considering he has his first child due any day now according to his private lifestyle socials media accounts. Iwazumi mentions he’ll be missing a few practices, but his best friend had named him godfather, so he’ll be in Argentina hoping to be the first to greet the his friend’s child before anyone else does. Upon hearing the news about how his old rival, nowadays isa soon to be parent, makes Japan’s canon a little, well, lonely.

Swirling the rocks glass in front of him, Ushijima thinks back about the random elementary school kid he hung out with at the jungle gym when he was nine just about to be ten. He takes a mighty sip, brandishing off the whiskey neat before ordering another one from the bartender wandering around the room. For whatever reason, he recalls his mother and granny asking the babysitter for his new friend’s phone number back then. His mother mentioned how shy and intimidating her son can be and the baby sitter introduces herself as a relative to the pair of older women.

“I’m yn’s aunt,” ushijima’s ears are sharp enough to hear that as his eyes look at you; you who dressed in overalls like him with light lilac puffy sleeves and even light sapphire hair talks about castles in the sky.

“Yn? How pretty,” Ushijima’s mother hums, eyes aglow when she notices her son curiously make a face at the chatter box you are.

You’re laying down cloud watching and before ushijima knows it, you entourage him to lay back and he watches them too. For a ten year old reserved child like him, the fact that you hold his hand like any best friend would, made his heart beat a bit quicker. So, after you’re called by your aunt to say your good-byes.

“I have to go,” you pout as he helps you sit up. A younger version of him just blinks as he feels this impending sadness in his chest--you were his first friend outside of his school; one where the classmates treated him as 'other' because of which hand was the most dominant, yet he didn't care what they called him behind his back then. You were a brilliant source of comfort for the last forty-minutes or so when you struck up a conversation with him at the top of the jungle gym. Your imagination made him a captain of a space cruier who on a whim, you choose to follow until you make it back to earth after a series of tag games. It's why you were on your back earlier, changing subjects about wondering if he'll be back tomorrow. Ushijima, the little kid he was back then, didn't know if he'd be back, so he just shrugs, unsure how to answer that.

“Wakatoshi! It’s getting dark, we should go too.”

“Mmhm,” he frowns. “Me too.”

You stand up when he orders his hand to help you up off the playground tarp.

“Y'know, it's ok if you're not here tomorrow Waka-kun." You hold his hand and give it a firm shake. Before you do truly part ways, you loop a pinky of yours around his. Looking dead straight in those childlike emerald stones of irses he had inherited, you raise your linked hands to each other's faces. "Meet me here when we’re in high school?” your odd request is met with a small sheepish smile.

“Five years from now?” he seems surprised.

“Yup! I’m sure you’ll be popular toshi-kun,” you had a slight smirk, giving his pinky a fateful squeeze before dropping it. “Don’t forget!”

A young Ushijima nods as you take off to the bench where your aunt was waiting before waving goodbye. His heart beat out of rhythm before he walked to his mom.

“Yn-chan is nice, hmm?”

“I guess,” her stoic son has a pout in his voice.

Mother holds her son's hand as they walk in the opposite direction where you and your aunt fade in the distance behind a neighboring street corner.

"Hey mom?"

"Hmm?"

"Can we come back tomorrow?"

"Sure. After your team practice is over, yeah?"

At this, Ushijima-sama looks at her boy who now has this cheeky grin tugging on his usually stoic straight lips as she just shakes her head in amusement.

It takes a few years of development and many Valentines confessions to realize Ushijima Wakatoshi had an after school playground crush on the elusive YLN,YN. Satori, one night in the dorms, bothers his fellow teammate to share former firsts—believe it or not your name is all ushijima can remember. Oh, and the fact you made him make a foolish promise of meeting at the same park now in the future was in fact an empty one. Although, one day right after graduation, Ushijima is hanging out with his new setter in the locker room for an extra practice. There is a tv with the news channels on with live coverage of the Sochi Winter Olympics that year. Lo and behold, you were a flag bearer for your home country with a summer sport under your name: Silver Medalist, WOMEN’S GYMNASTICS, 2016. You made the Olympic team before he and Kageyama did—you were one of the youngest to participate according to the announcers and god help Eros because Ushijima nearly lost his focus at extra practice that day. He almost didn’t return any of Kageyama’s servers.

Imagine how surprised you are as you’re invited by an old friend in the JVA to attend this gathering. You’re officially a three time medalist in individual rounds and even a two time gold medalist in team routines. Anyone who is an avid follower of your career record talks about you with pride in their smile. Well, it did help that your aunt was also your coach, but it also helped that for a while there, Karasuno also had an underground strong gymnastics team. No one ever heard about it until very recently when you named the high school and university you attended on invitational scholarship. Regardless, you greet Hinata who calls your name after you grab a champagne flute. You mingle your way over saying hi to everyone who stops you, saying your thanks and/or congrats to those who made the team. Again.

Hinata side hugs you, and you have hug a tipsy Kageyama, who leans on his former partner. Though they both blush at you greeting them, they also extend elated words you’re joining them in Europe for your respective sport. This time though, due to your physical therapy for a torn ACL right before World Championships, you are elected to be vice coach and spotter this term. You’re a little down, sure, but you wear it well as Kageyama saunters off to find the restrooms to relieve himself. Hinata says to follow him while he introduces you to the roster of players he’ll be reuniting with. Some you knew from coming to MSBY and Adler games, others you recognize from prior games like Aran-kun and Suna Rintaro. Names you wouldn't have recognized until it was Hinata who name dropped a few of them on your video calls when he was resigned to returning to Sao Paolo.

The last of these 'gentle monsters' as you tease them in saying is someone reminiscent of a child you made watch the clouds with you in your youth. Strength hidden underneath his semi formal wear sans sports coat, the young contemporary icon stifles a breath as you are introduced to each other again. This time, though, Hinata is called away by his former MSBY teammates thus leaving you and Ushijima to your own devices. For him, time slows as the small circle you’re surrounded by grows smaller. Soon enough, it was just you and him, filling each other with stories of growing up miles from each other, not even realizing you were rivals in volleyball come your high school years. Ushijima hums when you bring about that stunning block from a sarcastic kouhai back then, mentioning the city where that first year went on to play for an upcoming division one team. He tells you it’s old news especially when he sees how dedicated the others were to their craft. You and him reach for some hor d’oeuvres as the trays came around again.

“You never came back to the park where we met, Wakatoshi,” you say as you slide a few more mushrooms into your mouth. You swirl what’s left of your third sangria glad that night before downing it.

Ushijima is bewildered at your admission. Honestly, he forgot—he was ten! So were you, but friends don’t break promises no matter how old they are. You stifle a laugh as he blinks surprised by how sharp your memory is.

“I had a game, or was at practice…”

You nod. You too couldn't have made it every day for three years because you had practice to attend too, yet rain, snow, or sunshine didn't stop you. If you tell him that perhaps you might shoot your shot as Tsukishima would say. Hell, even when you texted the rest of your third years from Karasuno when you were invited to attend, Sugawara had the audacity to encourage you in attending. They all knew about the elusive kid you met in the summer right before you had started grade six: even they were surprised he turned out to be the captain of the powerhouse school who had been crazy enough to challenge Hinata Shoyo, 'from the concrete', once. You let that text memory die in the back of your mind while you went with the first option: guilt Ushijima Wakatoshi into liking your company like you were ten again. Fun fact: you didn't need to do that; he was already thinking of ways to get you to talk to himi long before you were standing side by side after you were reintroduced to each other.

“I spent three years, every summer break, curious about the kid I met back then. Kind and warm, like the fall breeze by the beach. Had an air of coolness from what i could tell too.”

You side eye him as he’s processing this information, what you seemed to have implied on yourself, turning on your heel after bidding him good night. Sauntering off, you find a few more familiar faces since you got the closure you didn’t know you wanted, but alas with your back to a different table this time, you’re approached by Ushijima. He’s a bit, intoxicated, you can tell by the way an alcohol blush tints his cheeks. The glass he had earlier was finished and replaced with another which was almost done by the time he walked over.

This was all thanks to Kageyama’s influence, after all the young setter went off on a hyper focused rant about how learning to love and earn love back helped his current relationship. Even if it was currently long distance. Flights from Italy to Brazil aren't really that cheap, yet for love of the sport and the man, Kageyama explains he makes it work. He has to because, according to the stubborn blueberry man, "love takes time to build, so seize the opportunity to love someone."

It was weird hearing this from his former Adler’s teammate, yet it makes sense as his eyes never wavered far from where you were talking-or was it flirting?-with other members of team Japan. Like how Miya Atsumu's eyes you when he hugs you with the widest grin on his face; or when Suna Rintaro chuckles as you see pictures of his baby nephews throw snowballs on a rice field in his hometown, drives Ushijima to give off Sakusa level warnings of backing off when he sees you interact with them.

Does it help that Ushijima felt a little jealous? No, why would it? You're laughing as Hinata sees the replay of Suna's nephews fight over Vabo-chan during the holidays last year as Ushijima walks over.

"Your nephews are so violent, but," you pause, handing the phone back to the middle blocker. "They do take after you and your bother, huh Miya?"

"Yeah, but 'Samu's kids are little terrors, but absolute angels when ya meet 'em," the blond says. Something about the way he sort of looks away from your face makes you wonder why you have this sneaking suspicion someone taller and more menacing than a house cat is lurking behind you. You shrug as Hinata glances over at the other two players across from where you stand and you can tell they are thinking of an easy way out of this conversation at this table as the jazz musicians take a break for a little while because right now, you feel a hand sneak it’s way around your waist.

"We're going to head back to the bar for some refills," Suna says taking your glass away from your hands. Your eyes watch Miya and Hinata scurry off before Suna gives a friendly, yet cold, warning look to the man who's standing like a guard dog behind you. Yellow-green eyes do not cower in front of the statuesque player who may or may not have been the reason you were still not seeing anyone as of late. (Suna means well, you know this as he was the first athlete in the off season to hang out with you regularly when you realize you went to the same all around gym by the EJP stadium. He's close enough to be family at this point, but young enough to know platonic love is the lane he needed to be in at this point in your life).

“Had enough?” you inquire as the others whom you were talking to waited for other beverages to be made. The perfume his designer had let him try gives of a scent of light cinnamon and earthy notes; it is faint on him, but to you when you lean back, it's a scent of comfort. It doesn't take a genius to see the comfortability around each other; it's enough that if the tabloids were here your 'snuggling' would break Twitter and the Adler's official accounts. That's a story for another time.

“Not yet,” his voice is rough, like he’s exhausted, but the way he says it as he pulls your hips back toward him, you almost choke on your own spit. Suggestive under the influence or not, you're not going to oppose if he invites you for a latenight hook-up; you're both grown enough to recognize this flirtatious dancing needs to come to a head.

However, the second Ushijima rests his head atop yours a moment savoring how you feel in front of him like this, is the few seconds it takes for you to relax further by reaching up and caressing his face. A sense of comfortability and spring like warmth spreads from soul outward. Your hand retracts just as he's about to lean into your palm, a pointed, peeved brow greets your peripheral as you rest the same hand on his arm. You're trying not to tease him further, but you do so in the most subtle of ways and it's driving him mad.

Perhaps you feel it too, judging by how his answer amplifies your rouge makeup, and so you lean more against his side like an old friend with the potential to become more. His lips were so close to the corner where yours began and if he caused you to turn just a little more toward him, Ushijima Wakatoshi would have unashamedly kiss you, publicly no less. Instead, you listen to how he breathes differently when you force him to sway with the band having returned to the small private clubroom stage. His voice begrundingly begging you to take the lead in carrying on whatever started here behind closed doors. And for what it’s worth, those that may have seen the exchange might have turned around would not believe how smitten the two of you are. 

"Y'mean to tell me I never had a chance?! Hinata," Atsumu squints at the blatant almost-couple across the other side of the bar. "Warn a guy before he flirts with Ushijima's lady."

"Oi! I didn't know they'd be like that 'Tsum!" Hinata whines. "But they do look happy, right?"

"Mm," Atsumu concurs by raising his refilled glass to where you are almost completely draped by the shoulders by Ushijima. "G'luck to 'em."

Meanwhile, after you had securely ducked under and over Ushijima's front side, you steadied him by holding his left arm on the side. He tilts his head down slightly to hear you clearer.

“We should head out,” you suggest. 

Your breath tickles the part of his upper arm where you lean against. You feel his chest rumble as you splayed a hand there to steady him when he nods apologizing for the drunken affection he’s giving. Not that you minded though. It’s not like you were waiting for almost a decade to see him this way, right?

Flash forward twenty-six minutes later and now you’re lip locked with this giant of a man who is and was still your first memory of a crush. This had started because once you kicked off your heels for the event, you glanced up at Ushijima standing there awkwardly in the foyer of his penthouse level hotel room: you choose to call out his name at first before taking his face in your hands and bringing him down to your level. Arms and hands from earlier grip the fabric of your outfit before you silently nod murmuring, "you can kiss me all you want here."

Now, Ushijima Wakatoshi, for all the years he's been visiting his father in the U.S., and from what his mother's dramas taught him about kissing has nothing compared to what kissing you had felt like. Nothing comes close to how his breathing is shallower the further you let him go without oxygen; the way one of your arms loop across his shoulder and the other with a gentle hand scratching his scalp the more you melt into him. You are like sunshine now and when you grant him reprieve from your kisses and those eyes that bewitched him stare back, sort of lackadaisical in a kiss drunk state.

"Been wanting to do that ever since you walked in," his voice has your back arch while he adjusts his hold. His nose nudges your cheek before acutely nipping the fat of your cheek there. You stutter forward perplexed by his quite frank neediness. Your hips almost touch, and when you feel Ushijima's soft chuckle against your ear he gives you a word of advice. "Patience."

Minutes later, Ushijima has you raised on the dresser in his hotel room, half undressed as your hands have undone several of his buttons. This time, he kisses you with a sense of urgency; his heart is suddenly picking up pace as is yours the further you sigh out his name when he marks your skin with his teeth and suckling lips. The dresser moves as you try to follow his eagerness to have you-all of you. His hands, feeling hotter than ever before, he uses one to support your back, whereas the other slips under your thigh and drags you forward with such a start, you moan his name into his mouth. He looks wide-eyed at you, not caring how you sort of have this embarrassed smile on him.

"Don't stop saying it," he snarls into your mouth. The dresser softly bangs back against the wall.

"Wakatoshi!" you whisper yell and you shake your head at how content he laughs into your neck.

"Hmm?" he kisses your collarbone.

"Gently this time," you instruct him. Ushijima acknowledges your advice, yet he's thoroughly thinking of other noises your voice can do

However, you choose to focus on something else: like how you got here to this point as you're given a chance to catch your breath. Almost half dressed by the man in your arms. It's not that you care about what you thought earlier that day when Hinata and Kageyama sent you texts inviting you out for drinks at the club; you just didn’t think this was the reconnection you needed to have with someone you met almost fifteen years ago when you were in primary school (you both were ten).

Not that any of that preemptive thoughts matter, not now anyways as you allow yourself to be loved by someone who is as strong to stand by you–lords of fate above, the truth you share as Ushijima rolls his shirt off his body. You can't help but stare unabashaedly at him, tanned through the years, sweet eyes boring into yours as you whisper where the zipper is on the side of your attire.

"Are you sure?" Ushijima's mighty hands find the hook-and-eye attachment on the zipper track. Your hand closest to where his is rests atop his wrist.

"If you think I'm going to hit and run on you," you help him drag down the zipper. "You don't know me at all."

Your clothes slide off as easily as the rest of his does. Though now you're both in less clothing as you let him continue showing his appreciation in having you wait for such a long time. It's not either of your first times in bed with another person, yet you know you'd have to be impervius of affection if you think with the way he cares for you afterwards is nothing less than a princely pauper's care is something out of a fairytale.

Ushijima settles in bed beside you as you wear an old traveling shirt of his after cleaning up.

"I take it we're together now, huh?" you are so cheeky as he rolls his eyes at you.

"I suppose it depends, yn," he replies.

"On what?"

"Whether or not you want to join me for breakfast tomorrow."

You nod enthused by his subtlety. A few moments pass by and as you begin to give sleep a chance, Ushijima pulls you closer to his shoulder, an arm of his cradles your head steady against him. Sobriety at this time of night makes him thank his stars you're here, asleep next to him. You shift in your sleep a couple minutes later and he hears you, murmuring a quiet, 'don't forget me' which if he was being honest with himself, he would have woken you up with an incredulous look of 'how did I?'

Come four in the morning, you're jostled awake by the remembrance of this not being your hotel room. You are able to recall meeting Hinata and Kageyama at the club; seeing and possibly reconnecting in more ways than one with Ushijima Wakatoshi, who is asleep behind you now. You're wearing his shirt, you feel an ache between your thighs and you're suddenly dragging a hand over your face before a chortle escapes your lips. No wonder your aunt was so adamant about you not trying to settle down until after your final Olympic Games after this one in Paris--you're going to have to sever the thought because of the man whom is now going to be keeping your bed warm will be the one you hope to settle with. Not because you both wanting to 'settle' no, because you two are learning how to keep a promise of love and friendship afloat. More so now the love had warped into one of a more romantic nature. You ponder this while tracing over his features with the calloued pads of your own hands from years of the gymnast powder used on them.

“You should go back to sleep, my heart,” his voice is even more gruff when you’re in a groggy mindset. He probably doesn't register what he said, but the moment he echoes what you said in your half-dreamlike state you lower yourself back whispering against his lips how you're not leaving him; you couldn't even if you tried. He seems to like that, smirking as he kisses your shoulder.

You chuckle turning over to face him now; slowly tracing his strong arms that wrap around your waist as they pull you closer to him like earlier. You readjust your body to lean against his sturdy self again just to press a kiss to the space between his eyebrows as he hums nudging his forehead against your own. Silently in this room just as your eyes flutter shut, you tell him how you can't wait for what tomorrow holds for either of you. For now, you both head back to sleep in the arms of the first real love you had found.

Perhaps now your younger selves all those years ago are laughing on the playground where a promise is fulfilled.

[chvnnie]

Be My Escape

bang chan x reader

part 4/8 - come on fuck me emo boy - find the playlist here

word count: 3.5k

genre: smut, a lil bit sad but not angsty?, fluff - MINORS DNI

warnings: struggling musician chan, established relationship, lots of talk of financial struggles, chan self esteems plummets for a sec, marking/biting, fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex (im tired just don’t), v v soft dirty talk, no power dynamic, chan doesn’t finish, they’re just in love and making love. if i missed anything, PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

summary: life sucks. you don’t.

a/n: this is once again apologizing for posting off schedule and hoping this is good enough that you’ll forgive me. ngl this took a lot of energy to write w the past two weeks i’ve had so pls enjoy. i hope you’re loving this series - we’re halfway done!

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents bang chan as a person or stray kids as a whole. you are responsible for the media you consume. please read responsibly.

taglist: @lix-ables, @rachalixie, @agustd-essert, @fthan, @chaitae-bae, @cloudyybinin, @lix001, @dnadoublefelixx, @cyder-puff, @whatudowhennooneseesyou, @metalchick529, @stranger-thighs, @gibbysupremeacyisreal, @katieraven, @miamormi

You flipped through the mail, heart sinking lower and lower with each envelope. Second notice. Third notice. Final notice. Bills, bills, bills piling up and feeling so heavy in your hands.

It was the last thing you wanted to see at 4:00 am, just now getting home from your shift. The bartending gig was supposed to be temporary. Chan had promised you wouldn’t be working at that crowded college bar for more than three months. But then three months passed, then six, and now, at nine and half, you were still there, coming every night sticky with alcohol and pockets basically empty from shitty tips. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that frat boys don’t tip well.

Deciding you didn’t have the mental capacity to think about bills, you dropped them on the kitchen counter and fished tonight’s tips out of your wallet. You jumped onto the counter, slowly standing up on it to reach the top of the cabinets. Tucked in the back corner was a glass jar, filled with various numbered bills and handfuls of change that made the jar jingle when it moved. You stuffed the cash you made inside, reminding yourself to count the money before class in the morning.

After the jar was returned to its hiding place, you climbed off the counter and sluggishly began your bedtime routine. You stood under the shower a little longer than necessary, eyes too heavy to stay open under the warmth of the water. You tried to justify the extra time with the fact that water bills are generally cheap, but flashes of red stamped envelopes had you hurriedly turning it off. The guilt of wasting water had you using a water bottle to brush your teeth, not wanting to use the tap.

It was almost 5:00 by the time you climbed into bed next to Chan. He laid facing your side, one arm tucked under his pillow while the other was laying across the bed like it was in search of you. Gently lifting his arm, you slid underneath it, rolling on the bed until your noses were almost touching. His breath fanned across your face, stale with sleep, but you didn’t care. Everything about Chan was comforting. Everything about him made you feel safe.

His alarm was shrill, echoing off the walls of the tiny studio apartment and waking up the dog next door. Tiny curses were mumbled as he flipped over in bed, unplugging his alarm clock and pushing it off the side table.

“Good morning.” You said with a yawn, moving closer to your boyfriend to feel his warmth just a bit more. Arms wrapped around his waist, you buried your head in the space between his shoulder blades, the scent of his soap and musk making your entire body relax.

“‘Morning.” His face was pressed against the pillow, muffling his words. “When did you get home?”

“Hour ago.” You placed kisses across his bare back between sentences, tracing his light freckles with your lips. “Put all my tips in the jar. Should be able to make rent on time this month.”

Chan grunted in response, a hand finding yours and intertwining. He would never tell you, but he always felt so fucking guilty when you put your tips in the jar. That was supposed to be your extra money, money to do fun things, not to pay bills with. It wasn’t your fault Chan’s band hasn’t taken off yet, or that he lost his corporate job a year ago, forcing the two of you to move out of your comfortable two bed apartment into a squished studio with thin walls. You had weathered those storms with him, refusing to leave him alone in it.

“We’ll get through it together.”

You were far too good for him.

He flipped in the bed to face you, wanting to enjoy just a few minutes of the comfort of the bed and you before he had to get up for the day. “Busy day today?”

Your hands slid up his side, one resting on his chest while the other played with his curls. “No. Just one class this afternoon, then I work a short shift tonight. Will probably be home around 10:00.”

“You’ll be home before me.” Chan sighed sadly, playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. “I have practice tonight. And I go from the coffee shop to the mall today, so I don’t even have a break in between jobs to come home and see you.”

You shrugged, and Chan watched as you struggled to keep your eyes open and on him. “That’s okay, baby. I can wait up for you.”

“Please, don’t. You worked so late tonight.”

“I wanna.” You mumbled, eyes now shut for good. “Wan-wanna spend som-spend some time with you to-onight.” You couldn’t speak without yawning, sleep slowly wrapping her arms around you and pulling you in.

“We can talk about that later.” He whispered, not even sure if you fully understood him. He leaned in, placing a small peck on your pouty lips. “Get some rest. I love you, baby.”

Your lips curved up, letting out a small, happy moan. “I love you the most, Channie.”

Sleep had pulled you in before Chan was out of the bed, small breaths growing deeper by the second. Chan took a moment to watch you, your body finally letting go of the day’s tension and relaxing under the thin sheets. Your lips parted, soft snores tumbling out as drool gathered at the edge of your mouth. It eased Chan’s mind to see you like this - relaxed and at peace, the struggles of the day melting away. You never outwardly voiced your worries to him, opting to shoulder the burden and keep the pain locked away. But he could see it. He could see it in the way your body tensed, the way your eyes were constantly weary. He could hear it in the way you cried in the shower when you thought he was asleep.

You deserved better than this. You deserved better than him.

Chan stood at the door, counting the change in his leather jacket to make sure he had enough for the bus today. The last thing he wanted was to resort to taking quarters from the jar, even though that’s what they were there for. Confirming he had enough, he looked over at your sleeping form one last time, heart aching with both affection and sheer agony.

//

The damn guitar wouldn’t tune. Chan had spent the past fifteen minutes tightening the strings, trying to ready his instrument for practice and he couldn’t. His frustration built by the second, huffing frustrated grunts with every adjustment.

Right when he swore he would smash his guitar if it didn’t fucking tune, the garage door opened, an angry Jisung storming in.

“Fuck!” He shouted, heading straight for his drum set and breaking the first set of sticks he could find. “Fuck, fuck, fuck-“

“What’s wrong?” Changbin asked, who had been standing near Chan just in case he did decide to break the guitar. “Is everything o-“

“Obviously not.” Jisung snapped. He plopped on his drum stool, resting his elbows on the snare drum before he threw his head into his hands. “I got a call on the way home from work, about the Saturday show. You know, the one we booked months ago and were confirmed for just last week?”

“Oh.” Changbin said softly, coming to the conclusion before his friend could speak.

“Yeah.” Jisung lifted his head up, locking eyes with Chan. “They bumped us. They fucking bumped us for another band, saying that they would get more revenue from them. Can you fucking believe that? And to make things worse-“

Chan sat there, staring at his friend whose face was growing redder the more he yelled, and waited. He waited for the wave of disappointment, the wave of frustration, the pain of having to tell you that you two were out extra cash this month for seemingly no reason.

It never came. Not even a little splash of it, the weight of the news lost on him. He was used to it. He was used to the disappointment, to things not working out, to having to scrape and struggle and still not have anything work out.

He was used to it. So used to it in fact that he was willing to brush this off as just a small inconvenience, another hiccup in his life that he would eventually get over. What other reason could there be to this? He let a few months of struggle turn into a year of it, dragging you down with him because he had grown comfortable.

That pissed him off more than any canceled gig could.

“I can call and try to see if they could fit us in? I mean, they literally confirmed last week, there has-“

“Do that.” Chan said, standing up from his seat to pack his stuff. “Let me know what they say tomorrow, okay? If we’re bumped for now, I’m going home. I haven’t seen my girlfriend all week. Cool?”

Jisung and Changbin nodded, letting Chan go with a series of goodbyes and promises to fill him in. Frankly, Chan didn’t give a shit if they did - whether or not they played this gig was the last thing on his mind. He just needed to get out of there, and get home to you.

It typically took less than thirty minutes for Chan to walk from Jisung’s parents to your shared apartment, but tonight he made it in under twenty. He spent the entire walk in his head, trying to compress his anger with himself. The last thing he wanted was to spend the first night you both were at home and awake simmering with fury.

Chan gripped the door knob, taking a few extra breaths before he gently pushed the door open. He found you in the kitchen, sitting cross legged on the counter top with a mug in your hands.

“Hey!” Your eyes were wide, the corners of them crinkling as you smiled at him. “You’re home early.”

“Yeah we uh, canceled practice tonight.” He looked away, pretending to struggle with his guitar case so he didn’t have to look at you when he lied. “Changbin doesn’t feel well.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I am glad you’re home though.” You put the mug down, reaching out for him. Chan dropped the rest of his things, not bothering to worry about where they landed and crossed the kitchen, diving right into your arms.

He crashed into you, head nuzzling into your neck as he pulled you to the edge of the counter. You giggled at his eagerness, arms wrapping around his shoulders to keep him close to you. One of your hands found the nape of his neck, fingers running through his blonde curls and softly scratching his scalp. That, with the added feeling of your body heat made Chan immediately relax, the troubles of today slowly melting away.

You pressed kisses on his head as you wrapped your legs around his waist, locking his body into yours. “I missed you.”

Chan groaned, pulling his head out of your neck to look at you. “I missed you, too.” He leaned in, gently brushing his lips against yours. What was only meant to be a small kiss turned into something deeper, your lips parting and offering an invitation that Chan simply could not refuse.

The groan you released when your tongues met went straight to his cock, hands flying up to pull your hips flush against his. Chan would never tire of the way you taste or the way your mouth fit so perfectly against his, never failing to draw him in. The taste of you was his favorite, always going straight to his head and leaving him breathless.

However, you tasted differently today. It was still very much you, but with hints of floral that were overly familiar.

“Were you drinking tea?” He asked breathlessly, breaking the kiss.

Your eyes flashed with guilt, and with a blink, the emotion was gone. “Yes.”

Chan cocked his head in confusion, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of what he saw in your eyes or- “I thought we were out of tea.”

You pressed your lips together, teeth digging into the bottom one as you nodded. “We are-we were, but I had a really bad day at work and all I wanted was some tea so I used some of my tip money to pick up a box on the way home. I’m sorry, Chan, I shouldn’t have but I figured with your gig this weekend that-“

His heart had never shattered so hard, so quickly. Chan watched you apologize, tears forming at your waterline as you tried to reason with buying tea. Tea. A three dollar box of tea bags had you shaking and profusely apologizing.

And it was all Chan’s fault.

He pulled away from you, apologizes cut short by what you assumed was rejection. That was, until Chan climbed up on the counter next to you, standing up to reach the jar’s hiding spot.

“Wh-what are you doing?” There was a slight hiccup in your voice, and fuck, if Chan wasn’t about to start crying with you. He did that to you.

“I hate this fucking jar.” He said before dropping it to the ground, glass shattering on impact. You gasped, watching as it scattered across the tile, loose changing rolling to hide under the fridge and small kitchen table.

He could see it - the fear in your eyes at his sudden movements, not knowing what he was getting at. Did you really think he was that angry about fucking tea? No, he was livid with himself.

“Chan-“

“It’s my fault. I should’ve got us out of this mess months ago-“

“Babe-“

“I got so used to this… disappointment? This failure? I don’t fucking know, but at some point I accepted it and dragged you down with me.”

“Hey-“

“God, I’m such a fucking joke. You deserve more than this, than whatever the fuck I’ve become-“

“Chan!” You snapped, the tone of your voice firm enough to cut his rant off. “Would you get down from there? Please?”

He slowly lowered himself down and sat next to you on the counter, anger slowly being replaced by regret. Why did he break the jar? Why did he raise his voice at you? God, he was so-

“I don’t care about the jar.” You spoke as though reading his mind. “But don’t you ever, ever, talk about yourself like that again.”

“I-“

“No.” You brought your hands to your face, wiping your tears with the sleeves of your sweater. “I mean it. How dare you think that about yourself when you’re the best person on earth.”

“But-“ Chan held his head in his hands, sniffling as the tears began to fall. “This is no way to live. Struggling, having to decide between transportation or eating. You don’t deserve to suffer like this.”

“And you do? You’re right, it isn’t fair that this is the life we’re living, but I don’t care. I wouldn’t care if we had no home or the biggest in the city, as long as you were here with me.” Your hand wrapped around his arm, resting your head on his shoulder. “Who fucking cares how much money we have? Who cares if we have a car or not? The only thing I’ve ever cared about is you, Chan.”

He lifted his head, turning to look at you. When your eyes met, you smiled softly and lifted your sweater clad hands to his face, cleaning it.

“You’re not a failure. You’re everything.”

Chan couldn't stop himself, kissing you as if he was offering you his soul. In a way, he was; wanting every fiber of his being to be yours, and yours his. The way you matched his tempo, deepening the kiss before he had the chance to, confirmed that you had him, and that he had you.

Without breaking the kiss, Chan pulled his knees onto the counter, broad body pushing you down until your back hit the counter top. The location was less than ideal, with your head partially in the sink and Chan unable to fully stretch his legs without kicking the toaster, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except for you, and the undeniable need to have you immediately.

You broke the kiss, cupping his cheeks as you moved to his jaw. Teeth sunk into his skin, bruising in the wake of your bites. He shut his eyes, releasing a whiny groan as you marked him. The bites continued down as Chan found the waistline of your leggings and peeled them off. He slipped a hand inside your underwear, bites faltering at his touch.

“Oh, baby.” Chan whispers as two fingers rub your entrance, teasing like he was about to push in. “Such a mess already.”

The feeling of his fingers had your head rolling back, detaching from his neck and hitting the countertop with a thump. Your eyes rolled back, fluttering shut as he applied just a bit of pressure as if he was going to enter before letting up.

His name fell from your lips as a whine and your back arched, and fuck, if you weren’t the prettiest when you were needy for him. “Channie, don’t tease.”

”'m not teasing. Just playing with what’s mine.”

Chan pushed his fingers inside you, watching the way your lips parted and nose scrunched up as you moaned for him. Slowly, he filled you up with his fingers, stopping only when his knuckles were deep inside you. He parted the fingers inside, spreading them out as much as he could.

“God, how are you always this fucking tight?” He grunts, dragging his fingers out just to pump back in. “Can’t wait to stretch you out, pretty girl.”

“Please?” Your lips trembled as you began to beg, nails digging into the nape of his neck. “Please, I need to feel you so bad. Need you so bad.”

He could never say no to you.

Pulling his fingers out of you, he held them to your lips, watching you lick them clean as he used one hand to undone his jeans. He pushed them down just enough for his cock to spring out, hard and angry from lack of stimulation.

Hands found your hips, pulling your center closer to him. Chan pulled your panties to the side, rubbing the head of his cock on your folds. “Baby.”

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his with a weak smile. “Hm?”

Chan leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Just needed to see you.” And then he was inside you, slowly pushing until you were filled with him.

The feeling of you was intoxicating, a high that Chan would chase over and over and never have enough of. The effect you had on him was addicting. When he was in you, his mind blanked, body moving on its own with the sole purpose of pleasuring you. Like a light in the darkness, you were his comfort, his escape from the harsh reality. You were right; it didn’t matter where he was or what he was doing, just as long as he had you.

You, you, you.

You, whose hands were on his face, bringing his attention back to the present.

“Hey, where’d you go?” You whispered, voice rough from the volume of your moans.

Chan nuzzled into your palms, turning to brush a kiss against them. “Nowhere. I’m here.” Fingers traced up your leg, goosebumps making a path to where you and Chan connected. A slight brush of his thumb against your bundle of nerves, and your jaw went slack, strained moans tumbling out. “Always right here.”

“Yeah?” You whined out, trying to keep your droopy eyes open and on him. “Always?”

“Always.” The pace of his hips picked up, teeth grinding together as you began to clench tighter around him. Your eyes rolled back, nails digging into the leather of his jacket as your orgasm approached.

Chan had never seen your high hit so hard, your entire body shaking underneath him as your moans echoed off the walls. The moment your high ended, Chan pulled out and sat up, taking you with him. A large hand cupped the back of your head, pulling it into his neck as the other stroked your back.

“So good. Always so good for more.” His praises were accompanied with kisses across your head. He didn’t stop until he heard your breath even out, arms now lacing around him instead of hanging limp at his side.

Life was a mess, and he had made it that way. There was no denying that. But as you lifted your tired head up, blown out doe eyes meeting his with a goofy grin on your face, he realized any hell was bearable as long as you were his escape.

©: chvnnie 2022

[user00003123]

NOW LIVE: SWEET LIKE SUGAR feat. k. nanami

SUMMARY: nanami wasn't having any luck with dating, so his friends decided to tell him about being a sugar daddy

CONTENT WARNINGS: sugar daddy! professor! kento nanami x fem! black! reder, smut, mdni, modern au, sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics, age gap (reader is 20 and Nanami is 33), daddy kink, slight clit play, oral (f! receiving), p in v, missionary, dirty talk, praise, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap kids), pet names (baby, sweetheart, daddy) wc: 4,151

Kento Nanami was a lonely man. No wife, no kids, no one to share his life with, and no one to take care of. He was alone, longing for companionship and his friends had noticed. Whenever he wasn't hanging out with them, he was spending his time by himself. Even though he would tell them he enjoyed his alone time, he wasn't good at hiding the fact that he was lonely.

His friends wanted to help him, so they invited him out for drinks at the bar, but what Nanami wasn't expecting was their suggestion for companionship.

"Being a sugar daddy?" Nanami questions while swirling his glass of whiskey. He had heard of it before, but he never considered the idea.

Geto is leaning against the bar, eyeing the bartender, "Yeah, you pay a sugar baby for their companionship or for them to have sex with you."

Nanami raised an eyebrow, "Paying for sex? Isn't that prostitution?"

"Well, technically yes, but you can discuss with your sugar baby what you both are comfortable with and what benefits you would both get from the arrangement," Gojo explains. "You've said it yourself, traditional dating wasn't working out for you, and a lot of men our age do it."

"Yeah, it's nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed about, Kento," Toji says, putting a hand on the man's shoulder.

Nanami takes a sip of his whiskey, pondering the idea in his head, "Have any of you a sugar baby?"

"I've had a couple of them actually," Gojo smirks looking towards the bartender raising his glass, silently asking for another drink. "That's how Leila and I met." Nanami's eyes widened, he never thought about it. Leila was 7 years younger than Gojo, but now they were engaged after being together for 5 years.

"I've had two before the one I have now," Geto looks down at his drink. "It feels nice to have someone to be around and talk to keep you from feeling alone."

"Just make sure to discuss what you both want from the arrangement before jumping into it," Toji gives Nanami a serious look. "You don't wanna pursue something that you're not comfortable with."

Nanami told his friends he was going to look into it and they were proud of him for making an effort. When Nanami arrived home, he rushed to his office, unlocked his computer, then searched sugar daddy, clicking on the first website that popped up.

Are you a successful and generous man seeking companionship? Create a profile to meet the sugar baby of your dreams!

He clicks I'm a sugar daddy, then join free to start making his profile. Nanami typed in his name, age, his occupation—raised an eyebrow at body type and height, but added it anyway. Then added personal details about himself, before he got stuck on the 'what are you looking for' question.

"What am I looking for?" he quietly questions himself. He ponders that question, trying to figure out how to put it in words without scaring people away.

I'm looking for a genuine Sugar Baby that I can spoil, spend time with, and hopefully one day come home to.

He thought he sounded desperate and maybe to some he would, but he was. He was longing for someone to care about him, to love him, to want to be with him. He is discouraged with himself that none of his relationships have worked in the past and he needs to feel something.

Clicking the complete profile button, he had to verify that he was himself, then his page was now able to be seen by other people. He looks towards the clock and lets out a sigh, seeing it was 2 am. Nanami shuts down his computer, mentally deciding to shower in the morning, and gets into bed.

Nanami woke up to the sound of his phone buzzing against the nightstand. Groaning in annoyance, he reaches for his phone, opening one of his eyes to turn off his alarm. He lays down for a few seconds before rolling out of bed, making sure to grab his phone, then heading to his bathroom to shower. As the hot water is hitting his back, he opens up the site he was on last night and is stunned seeing how many messages he's received from different sugar babies.

After going through each message and taking a look at their profile, one particular woman caught his eye, and it was you.

Y/n: Hi, your bio is so sweet!

Y/n: I also see you're a professor, what do you teach?

Your message brought a smile to his face, but then he swiped through your pictures and read your bio listing some of the things you enjoyed doing and he was hooked.

Nanami: Hello, thank you. I teach English. What degree are you pursuing?

Nanami had finished his shower and was brushing his teeth when he received an email that you had responded to him.

Y/n: I'm pursuing psychology, but I want to be a lawyer. How do you enjoy being a professor?

Nanami: I enjoy it quite a lot. I've wanted to teach since I was in high school and teaching college students always intrigued me.

Nanami: What made you want to be a lawyer?

Y/n: I've always wanted to be able to help people and change their lives for the better. I also like debating against people, it brings me joy

Nanami: Honesty, I like it. You're going to be a great lawyer one day.

He didn't want to leave you hanging like that, making the conversation seem short, but he was doubting that you would want to keep talking to him. It was hard to not doubt himself when all his past relationships didn't seem to workout, but who's to say this one won't? At the least, he'll have someone to keep him company. He took a deep breath and pushed himself to type his next message.

Nanami: I am enjoying talking to you, and was wondering if you would like to keep getting to know each other?

His heart was racing with every second that passed. You were taking forever to respond—it took 1 minute for your message bubble to pop up that you were typing and another minute for your message to pop up.

Y/n: I would love that! If you're free tonight I would love to give you a call.

He let out a breath of relief when he read your message.

Nanami: Of course, here's my number I can't wait to hear from you.

Throughout the rest of the day, Nanami was on edge about being on call with you tonight. It's been a while since he's talked on the phone with a woman. What would he say— what would you say?

By the time you had called Nanami, his nerves had calmed down a lot, especially when you were leading the conversation, so he could just bounce off what you said. You two had talked for a couple of hours, really hitting it off. The next couple two weeks were the same, spending a couple of hours each night just talking and enjoying each other's presence. You guys even got comfortable enough to go into detail about why each of you was even on the website.

"I know you need help with school, but you're a beautiful young girl. Why aren't you dating?" He could hear you sigh.

"I want to be, trust me I do, It's just—," you fell back onto your bed, hands covering your face. "I've tried dating and for some reason, it just doesn't work out. Growing up I watched movies that showed girls finding true love and it just doesn't seem to be real."

Nanami was quiet for a second, he understood how you felt. He's talked to his students before about how movies and books portray love, high school, college, and even sex. It's all a romanticized version of how the world is, but who's to say you can't make it real?

"Hey, don't get all quiet on me," you laugh a little trying to lighten the mood. "So, why aren't dating?"

"Every time I've tried a relationship or going on dates, she just ends up breaking things off." Nanami was staring up at his ceiling. "A couple of them have said it's because I'm too nice. So I honestly don't know."

"Too nice? I would take too nice over nonchalant or uncaring any day," you let out a laugh. "I don't know Nanami, you seem too perfect for you to have ended up on a sugar daddy site."

"Well, maybe you're the reason why I was on there. Fate bringing us together," you could hear the dramatics in his voice, but there was some truth behind his facade. "...but, you're not gonna know unless you go to dinner with me Friday night."

It was quiet on the other end of the line, Nanami feeling he messed up his chances with another—

"I guess I’ll just have to take you up on that offer," you had some smugness in your voice even though your mic was just muted as you cheered about him asking you out. You know it wasn't formerly a date, but maybe what he said earlier what right.

"Great! I'll text you all the details tomorrow," Nanami felt ecstatic.

"Sounds good. Goodnight Kento," your voice was soft and sweet. It made his heart swell.

"Goodnight Y/n.”

The next day, Nanami called around to a few different restaurants to see if any of them were available tomorrow night. There was a new restaurant that had just opened up, and they had a few more openings and let Nanami make reservations for the both of you. He also called the flower shop down the street from his house for a pickup order of a custom bouquet for you.

Once everything was set, he sent you a message confirming that you were still up for your meeting tomorrow.

Kento <3: Reservations for dinner tomorrow at 8. I would like to pick you up, but if you're not comfortable with that, I will pay for your ride there.

Pretty Girl: Aw Kento :(, ofc I would want you to pick me up. I'll text you my address tomorrow.

Pretty Girl: Are we still gonna call tonight?

God, you're the cutest, he thought.

Kento &lt;;3: Of course, sweetheart. I'll call you around 7.

Even though you guys spent the last two weeks talking to each other, neither of you was worried about not having anything to speak about tomorrow. The conversation between you two just flowed, it felt natural and not forced. Nanami was trying to hold himself back from getting attached too quickly because that's another issue he had and he didn't want to scare you away.

He woke up Friday morning feeling more excited than nervous. He spent a few hours doing mundane things around the house, just to keep himself busy, but around 3 he was quick to try and freshen himself up. Shaving his face, and his below area, just because he likes it better hairless. Gelling his hair perfectly, then trying on every suit he owned until he found the perfect one.

He left his home around 6 to pick up the bouquet he had made for you, wanting extra time for changes if need be. The colors were pretty and went well together, each flower was the same size, and there wasn't a thorn in sight. He paid the ladies, thanking them as he left the shop, before texting you he was on his way.

He was getting more nervous as he got to your apartment building. His palms were sweaty, his heart rate picked up, and he started to feel like he was on fire. Arriving at your home, he texted you he was in front of the building then grabbed the bouquet, leaning on the passenger side door of his car, waiting for you to show up in anticipation.

It felt like time was going so slow as he waited for you, and when he saw you it was even slower. In his head, you were walking in slow motion towards him. You're black satin dress with a slit on the side, hugging your body just right, black heels and clutch to math, your hair was perfect, bright smile with glossy lips, you were breathtaking.

He snapped himself out of his trance bringing you into a hug, then smiling at you while handing you your flowers. The two shades of pink were so pretty, and the bouquet itself was so big you needed two hands to carry it.

"Kento, these are beautiful," you were in awe looking between him and the flowers.

"Not as beautiful as you," you held the bouquet in one arm as he took one of your hands to kiss the back of it. Your eyes were watering and you had to take a couple deep breaths to calm down. It was just, you never received this type of treatment before and you didn't know how to handle it.

"Come on, let's get to dinner," he opens the passenger door for you, holding your hand to help you get in and situated, then jogging to the other side and getting it. While driving to the restaurant, your eyes were looking between Nanami and the road, he looked so good all dressed up and you could see his muscles through his suit, it was turning you on a bit, you had to shut your legs and rub your thighs to ease the tension.

"You okay, sweetheart?" The nickname was not helping.

"Yeah— yes, just think you look handsome is all," you give him a sincere smile and he returns it.

"Thank you."

The rest of the car ride was filled with small conversations, keeping yourself distracted from pouncing on the man you'd only just met 15 minutes ago. He opens your door, helps you out, then guides you with a hand on your back to the inside of the restaurant. He gives the waiter his name and y'all are instantly taken to the roof of the restaurant in a secluded spot.

He pulls your chair out, then pushes you in once you're seated, and goes to his chair. Looking around, there are arches covered in vines, lights going from one arch to another all around, some potted flowers and bushes, palm trees, and umbrellas pushed in a corner for when they're needed.

"Kento, this is....wow," there wasn't a good enough word to describe how beautiful this sight was.

"Do you like it?" he questioned, even though he knew you did.

"Like it—I love it, it's one of the prettiest places I've ever seen or been to," you had the biggest smile on your face and Nanami couldn't help but smile back. "Thank you for bringing me here and for the flowers."

At this point, a few tears were sliding down your cheeks. Nanami had made you feel something you've never felt before, cared for. You two had only known each other a few weeks and he did all of this for you.

"Oh god, I'm sorry," he didn't mean to make you cry, he just wanted you to feel happy. He got out of his seat, pulling you into his arms as you let out a few sobs. "Please don't cry, I didn't mean to upset you."

You pull out of the hug to tilt your head in confusion, "Upset me? This is the greatest thing anyone has ever done for me." You hug him again and then regain your composure and he goes back to his seat.

"I'm glad I could do this for you."

You go through the menu and pick out what you both want to eat, telling your waitress when she comes and introduces herself. Once you both have your drinks, you decide to discuss the terms of your arrangement. Agreeing on there being no expectations for sex, seeing each other at least once a week, and Nanami sending you $500 weekly, you guys were now official.

While you two had just started to eat, you noticed the sun was setting. You could barely eat your food, your attention on the perfect view you had of the sunset.

"I picked this time just so we could watch the sunset together," he grabs your hand giving it a small squeeze.

Nanami enjoyed spending the evening with you, he had paid the waiter for your food, and gave her a big tip, before following you out and getting you into the car. The ride to your place was a comfortable silence. Nanami's hand was placed on your thigh, his fingers running against your soft skin. His action was innocent, but that plus how sexy he looked was making you need to rub your thighs together again, to ease the pressure you felt on your clit.

Your lip was between your teeth and your eyes closed, trying to think about anything else besides Nanami and he glanced at you worryingly, "What's the matter, sweetheart?"

Ugh, that nickname again. He wasn't helping ease the dirty thoughts going through your head, "Nothing, I'm okay."

He was in front of your apartment building, his full attention on you. You weren't making eye contact with him, so he used his thumb and index finger to make you look at him, "Don't lie to me, baby. Just tell me what it is and I'll fix it."

You looked down at his hand on your thigh, then back up to his eyes, "I need you."

Your thighs were squeezing together so tight, he patted one, getting you to stop, "Where do you need me?" He was rubbing your inner thigh, fingers so close to where you wanted him.

You moved his hand that was on your thigh to your clothed pussy. He rubbed slow circles over your clit, hearing you let out little gasps and moans from his touch, but Nanami was a classy man, he wasn't gonna fuck you in his car, not the first time at least.

"Let's go in your apartment, baby," he instructed, and you got out of the car quickly, waiting for him to lock his car, then followed you into the building and to the elevator. You were holding his hand tight, trying to contain yourself. Once in the elevator, you pulled him to kiss you, practically grinding against him. Both of you let out little moans and grunts, your tongues exploring each other's mouths.

When the elevator dinged, you both pulled away from each other, getting out of the elevator. You pulled out our keys from your purse but were stumbling trying to get the key in the keyhole, so Nanami helped you and as soon as you were in the apartment, you were pushed up against your door. He made sure to lock it before dropping your keys to the floor and grabbing a fistful of your ass. Kneading the flesh, as you moaned in his mouth, he picked you up and carried you to your bedroom.

He placed you on the floor, pulling back from the kiss and turning you around so your back was facing him. Bringing his arms to wrap around your waist, he's kissing and sucking on your neck then leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down your back as he pulls your dress straps down your arms. The dress falls to your feet, each heeled foot stepping out of the dress, as he still makes his way down your back to your ass. He uses both his hands to pull your ass cheeks apart and licks a stripe up your pussy, and you're already a moaning mess.

He realizes your heels are still on your feet, so before he's too pussy drunk to care, he tells you to get on the bed and you do as you are told, legs spread, and your wet little cunt on full display for him. He dives right in, sucking your little bud into his mouth, and his name is rolling off your tongue. The tip of his tongue is circling your clit before lapping and slurping at your juices.

"Mmm— Kento, feels so good," you whimper out as your hands are in Nanami's hair, and you're grinding your pussy against his face. He moans loving how you taste on his tongue, eyes looking at you through the valley of your breasts. Your thighs are shaking around his head, all he can hear is the wet sounds of him eating your pussy and you moaning his name.

"Fuck baby, you gonna cum on my tongue?" you nod your head, not being able to form words. Nanami flicks his tongue against your clit, then switches to circling it, before he sucks it into his mouth again and that sends you over the edge. You chant Nanami's name as your legs are squeezing around his head. His tongue is still lapping at your messy cunt and he's addicted to the taste of you.

"Pussy taste so good, baby," he kisses your clit a few times, then uses your ankles to pull you to the edge of the bed. His suit jacket and white button-up were off in seconds, your hands reaching to touch his muscular torso, eyes only concentrated on him.

"You're so sexy, Kento," he shoves his pants down his legs, stepping out of them, then leaning over your body, making out with you again. One of his hands on the side of your face, and the other in between your bodies, lining himself up with you. When he pushes into you at a slow pace, you both moan into each other's mouth at the feeling, your pussy sucking him in and his cock stretching you out. Your hands are clawing at his back, and your legs wrapping around his waist, to pull him deeper into you. When he's fully settled inside of you he can feel your pussy fluttering around his cock.

He pulls away from the kiss to place soft kisses along your jaw, cheeks, and then your ear, "You want me to fuck you, sweetheart." Your answer is quick and you repeat yes over and over until he's pulling out of you then sliding right back in. "How, hm? you want me to fuck you slow," he's thrusting in and out of you at a slow pace, and you're squirming under him.

"Kento— no, faster!"

He hums, kissing up your jaw again, then sucking on your earlobe, "Oh, you want it fast?" He connects your lips again, messily kissing your swollen lips, before he's fucking into you faster, and you can't help but scratch at his back, leaving red marks.

"Daddy feels—mmph—too good,” your head is back against the bed leaving your neck exposed, and his lips are sucking, licking, and kissing, all over your neck. His hands move down to hold at your thighs pushing them to your stomach, as his mouth trails down to one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around it until it's standing straight up against his tongue. He sucks your other nipple while moving one of the hands that were on your thigh to thumb your clit. He's circling the engorged bub and feels you clenching around his cock.

"Mmm—fuck— you gonna cum, baby?" All you can reply is by saying his name and profanities over and over again like a mantra. Moving the hand that was still on your thigh up to your nipple, to flick and pinch it between his fingers, his mouth is on your other nipple, flicking his tongue around it and sucking it into his mouth. Your back was arching off the bed, pussy squeezing his cock so tight, a ring of your cum coating the base of his cock as he continued to fuck into you.

Pulling him down to you, it was your turn to pepper him in kisses on his jaw and cheeks, then sucking on his ear lobe. "I know you wanna cum, Daddy," your breath was fanning his ear. His thrusts were getting sloppy, him just rutting into you, chasing his orgasm. "Cum for me," he rutted into you a few more times before pulling out and jerking his cock, saying your name as his cum coated your stomach in his white sticky mess.

Nanami leaned over your body placing kisses all over your face, then kissing your lips. You looked up at him with a smile running your thumb across his cheekbone, “Do you wanna shower with me?” He circled his arms around your waist, pulling you off the bed and into his arms, then walked you over to your bathroom. He sits you on your counter pulling your lips to his in a deep kiss.

“Lemme fuck you in the shower.”

©HANNSDIARY 2023 | all rights reserved. please don’t copy, steal, modify, or repost my work on other sites.

[dgmovies]

Bang Chan: Recommendations Masterlist

✨Welcome to my world✨

Here are some fics I've collected of STRAY KIDS Bang Chan. I have a few more saved up, so I will be adding those in the future. Enjoy :) Idk if all the links work. Some works may have been deleted already. Also, some info might be missing. *Disclaimer: English is not my first language.*

Tags: © = My personal favorite, F = Fluff, A = Angst, S = Smut

*Updated: 28-01-2023*

ONE SHOTS:

00:01 - @jeontaeil (S)

Status: Completed

Word Count: 0.7 k

Summary: When best friends experiment with each other... (Bff!BangChan x AFAB!Reader x Bff!Felix)

[09:57 pm] - @bruh-changbin (S)

Status: Completed

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Co-Worker!BangChan

Between The Lines - @jiminbbyboy (©, S, A, F)

Status: Completed

Word Count: 12.5k

Summary: After being used a nothing more then a pawn to gain the upper hand on Chan. They’re left in a strained marriage and only one way out. (ArrangedMarriage!AU, StrangersToLovers!Au)

Drunk With Chan - @ballelino (S) *recently added*

Status: Completed

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: A texting mishap makes it sound like you're offering your friend a handjob. (Friends!AU)

Ghostface - @bruh-changbin (S, F)

Status: Completed

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: … (Halloween!AU, Lab!Au)

Hatefuck With Chan - @ballelino (S, F, A)

Status: Completed

Word Count: 4.9k

Summary: Your love-hate relationship with Chan turns more into the former than the latter.

It's Cold Out - @therhythmafterthesummer (S, F)

Status: Completed

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: Your roommate had been acting weird lately, weirder than usual. It was because of his condition, you thought, and in a way, you had been right, just not in the way you had expected. (Supernatural!AU, R2L!AU, Werewolf!Chan)

Kill Me Slowly - @inkedtae (©, A, S)

Status: Completed

Word Count: 34.5k

Summary: Upon being caught witnessing his criminal activity, notorious mafia boss, bang chan, warns you against exposing his business. However, you’ve never been one to walk away empty handed. (Mafia!AU, S2L!AU)

Late Night Massaging - @chansbabygirl1997 (S, F)

Status: Completed

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Coming back from a tiring day, Chan returs back to his apartment late in the night. His roomate is still awake and after seeing how exhausted he is, she offers to massage him to take his exhaustion away. However, things take a slightly different turn than they had anticipated. (Roommates!AU, F2L!AU)

Lights Down Low - @thevampywolf (S)

Status: Completed

Word Count: ?

Summary: E2L!AU, SchoolTrip!AU

No Place For You Here - @kpopsfic (S, A, F)

Status: Completed

Word Count: 10.3k

Summary: The man you hate the most is going to be tested on by your corrupt government and you’re forced to team up in order to put a stop to the people’s all too powerful leader. (E2L!AU, Dystopian!AU)

Overtime - @hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf (S)

Status: Completed

Word Count: 5.6k

Summary: You work as Bang Chan’s personal assistant. With a comeback on the horizon, he tells you he needs you to pull some serious overtime.

Pleasure Principle - @matryosika (S)

Status: Completed

Word Count: 8k

Summary: Dilf!Chan

Surfin' - @j-0ne25 (S, F)

Status: Completed

Word Count: 7.1k

Summary: It's been two exhausting years, so you're glad to finally fully reopen your family's restaurant. Especially, since your childhood friend Felix always visits you for the summer. But unfortunately you haven't reckoned with his friend staying there as well, annoying the hell out of you by teaching his surfing courses exactly in front of your restaurant. (E2L!AU, Bartender!Reader, SurgCoach!Chan)

Untie The Knot - @seospicybin (©, S, F) *recently added*

Status: Completed

Word Count: ...k

Summary: You finally, finally get to sleep with someone you’ve been secretly crushing on, the popular employee at work, Chris. Everything was perfect until all of a sudden, your father comes barging in and trap him in a family affair. (Office!AU)

Wolfsbane - @healinghyunjin (A, F, S)

Status: Completed

Word Count: 16.7k

Summary: You took a deep breath before lifting your head, staring right at Chan. “I can be your collateral – as your wife.” (Historical!Au, ArrangedMarriage!AU)

Yes No Maybe - @hongism (S, A)

Status: Completed

Word Count: 8.7k

Summary: Saying you don’t ever want to see Chan again would be overdramatic and irrational. Saying you don’t want to go back to him however is an entirely different story (Exes2L!Au, E2L!Au)

Your Moans Would Sound Nice (Ft. 3RACHA) -@loubouskz (S)

Status: Completed

Word Count: 3k

Summary: One sentence leads to... something interesting

SERIES:

For Reasons Wretched and Devine – @noramoons (©, F, A, S)

Status: 7/? Chapters (Ongoing)

Word Count: 33.5k (7 Chapters)

Summary: You’ve heard stories about the Lykos clan for your entire life. You know the rules about dealing with demons - never look them in the eye, never trespass on a shrine without an offering, and never walk in their territory alone.

When did you forget to listen? (WolfDemon!AU, GreekMythology!AU, Demon!Straykids)

Mamihlapinatapai – @sunnyville36 (A, S, F)

Status: 5/5 Chapters (Completed)

Word Count: 25k (5 Chapters)

Summary: Royal!AU, Historical!AU

Touch – @fizzydrink698 (S)

Status: 2 Chapters (Completed?)

Word Count: 13.3k (2 Chapters)

Summary: Then, he finally notices the first-aid kit in your hand, and he changes. The corners of his lips turn up, twisting into a smirk. He raises his chin, one eyebrow arching at the sight of you. It’s a smug, quietly dangerous look from Chan that you’ve never seen before. One that sets your nerves on edge, has the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. “Why?” Chan asks, and his hand drifts up to undo his top button. “Are you here to play nurse?" (Werewolf!AU, Frenemies2L!AU)

[btsgotjams27]

All Grown Up ~ JJK | 5

✨ title: all grown up | series ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: R/18+ ~ minors dni ✨ genre/au: romance, fluff, angst, friends-to-lovers, humor, banter, smut, age gap, best friends little brother ✨ warnings: noona kink, older woman, younger man, kissing, oral (m,f), unprotected intercourse, significant age gap (9 years), confident Jungkook, cocky Jungkook, bratty Jungkook, crappy mom, but overall Jungkook is the sweetest, most romantic boy who's fallen in love | warnings for each chapter will vary ✨ author's notes: I won't be updating this series on Tumblr. This fic is inspired by the k-drama, Something in the Rain. ✨ author's notes 2: okay, so i do plan on editing the rest of this series! i just don't know when it'll be done. ✨ can also read on AO3 or Wattpad

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] prev | next ✨ slow dances can't lead to anything good

✨ chapter five ~ late night outing | wc: 2.2k

It was getting late, but you hopped in the shower to rinse the day off of you. Your thoughts consuming every waking fiber of your being were beginning to eat away at you.

"I don't know what happened between the two of you but I'm pretty sure you could get him back..."

The words of your mother echoing throughout the bathroom. And it was stupid, but a part of you even considered contacting U-jin. You shook the thought from your head. Taking back someone who cheated? Someone who you felt like didn't even love you. Come on...you were better than that, you deserved better than him.

"Promise to not put myself down..."

Grinning to yourself as Jungkook's words came back to the forefront of your mind. Of course, his words were easier said than done. He wasn't the one who got dumped and cheated on. But it was a word of advice that you needed to work on for yourself.

Before stepping out from the warm steamy shower, you heard a notification bell go off. Drying yourself, you picked up the phone to check and see what it was, it read "Jungkook, 2 messages." You unlocked your phone to see a selfie of him with the message, "What are you doing?"

10:22 PM I just got out of the shower and I'm about to head to bed. What's up?

JK 10:23 PM Ouh, shower huh? 😏 I'm bored.

10:33 PM Don't be gross. You're young. Go out and have some fun. Goooodnight Jungkook.

JK 10:35 PM Why don't you come with me?

You smiled and chuckled to yourself. This boy. You? Going out this late? Nah--.

10:37 PM I'm old and my back hurts. I think staying in bed and watching Netflix sounds better.

JK 10:39 PM I mean...we can Netflix and chill if you want to too 😉

10:40 PM I may be old but I know what the young kids are saying and no. Sorry Kook but you're Yuna's baby brother.

JK 10:42 PM Oh, come on. Come out with me, it'll be fun. I can make you feel young again. I'll make it worth your while and even buy you a drink.

Before you knew it, you were wearing your strappy heels and getting ready to meet Jungkook at a bar. You couldn't believe you were out this late. It had been a while since you had gotten dressed up. You put on your black bodysuit and wide-leg pants and add a belt, a white clutch, and gold earrings. Your hair is tousled and wavy, and your makeup is minimal and fresh. You had to convince yourself that you were not getting dressed up for him. If you were to meet a handsome stranger at the bar, then at least you looked good, is what you told yourself.

Your phone reads eleven o'clock at night. It was definitely way past your bedtime. You covered your mouth as a yawn got the best of you. With one last glance at yourself in the mirror, you wondered if this whole get-up was too much for tonight. You're only getting one drink and going home, that's it. But you were sure that if Jungkook made any other suggestions tonight, you'd be foolish enough to say yes. It was hard to say no to that doe-eyed boy.

When you got to the bar, you didn't see Jungkook, so you sat down at the bar to grab a drink. The bartender asked what you would like, and you ordered a margarita on the rocks. As you sipped on your drink, you kept looking around to see if Jungkook had shown up yet but nothing.

"Is this seat taken?" a man asked.

You glanced in the direction of the voice. Beside you, stood a handsome man, with plush pink lips, and coiffed hair. He donned a white button down with a matching houndstooth vest and pants. You gulped and opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.

He chuckled and smiled, then proceeded to repeat himself. "Is this seat taken?"

"Oh, nope nope. It's all yours."

"Thank you." He gave another delicious smile, as he sat down next to you. Sitting so close, you could smell the expensive cologne he was wearing.

"I'm Y/n." Bold of you to introduce yourself first. Could tonight be a good night for you?

"I'm Jin," he stated, holding his hand for you to shake it.

"It's nice to meet you."

Jin peered around you. "Are you here with anyone?"

"Yeah, I'm actually waiting for a friend. What about you?"

He nodded, while waving the bartender down. "I'm here with a friend too. He's performing tonight."

He? Oh...could it be possible that he swings the other way? Well...there goes your plan of chatting him up tonight.

"Oh, I didn't know they did that here," you said as you looked around, now noticing the crowd waiting for the next performer.

"Yeah, it's open mic night," he added. "My friend's a great singer."

The bartender finally made his way over. "What can I get for you guys?"

"Water, please."

"Same."

You both smiled at each other and faced away from each other as you took a sip of your waters.

"Do you come here often?"

"What do you do for work?" you asked.

The pair of you spoke at the same time. Although he could swing the other way, his presence still made you flustered. He was absolutely breathtaking.

He laughed. "You go first."

"Ah, no. It's my first time here and to be honest, I don't go out often." He probably didn't need to know that much about you. "It's rare to see me out." So much for trying to impress someone by letting them know how much of a loser you were by not getting out.

"I see...so you're like a unicorn, beautiful and rare."

His comment made you blush. "Yeah I guess you could say that."

"And to answer your question, I work at Netmarble."

Oh? That's funny...Jungkook works there too.

"Huh, I have a friend that works there too. I wonder if you know him?"

A loud tap on the mic interrupted your conversation. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our next performer, Jeon Jungkook."

You turned around and found him on stage. He donned a black printed button down, paired with black jeans and black Chelsea boots. He looked nervous with one hand on the mic and the other in his pant pocket, but once he started singing, it subsided. The beautiful words escaping his lips seemed so effortless and natural to him. He enchanted you by the softness and confidence in his voice. The crowd began to simmer down and focus solely on him. When he finished, he received a standing ovation. You found yourself clapping and cheering alongside Jin.

He made his way through the crowd saying thank you to those who stopped him. When he finally reached you, he was grinning from ear to ear, excited to see you here. "Noona, you came. Wow, you--you look amazing." He managed to finally spit out what he wanted to say.

He had never seen you like this before. You weren't the type of person to dress up and show off your body. And now that you thought about it, your outfit seemed like a bit too much for a night out. You felt a little embarrassed acting like this, acting like someone else. You were now regretting not bringing a jacket to help cover yourself up.

"Oh--I, uh threw this on." Ha. Liar. You changed your outfit several times, several. Making sure it was perfect before you left the house. Not sure who you were trying to impress.

Jin stood up behind Jungkook, intensely rubbing his shoulders. "Jungkookie, sometimes I still wonder why you're working at our company when you could be an idol. Don't you think he could be an idol?"

With a confused expression, Jungkook asked, "Hyung, do you guys know each other?" He was hoping to find out that Jin wasn't hitting on you while he was on stage.

"We met while I was waiting for you. And I didn't know you sang so well. Why didn't you ever tell me?"

Your compliment made him shy. He began rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Ah you think so? I do it for fun."

"I'll take a wild guess and say you and Jin work together?"

Jungkook nodded. "He's my senior, hyung, and a pain in my ass."

"Yah! You're lucky we're not at work, otherwise--"

"Otherwise what?" Jungkook quipped. He knew he could get away with saying specific things to Jin without getting scolded. So he always took a chance with being a brat.

You chuckled at their bickering, reminding you of how annoying the two of you could be.

"Otherwise---I don't know--I'll write you up or something," Jin laughed. "Oh, and uh, Jungkook, can I talk to you over here for a second?" He turned to you. "We'll be one moment." Jin smiled and then tugged on Jungkook's shirt, pulling him in the opposite direction.

Jungkook motioned for you to stay. "We'll be right back." He continued smiling as Jin was pulling him away. It was hard to keep his eyes off of you. He could stare at you forever.

Jin pulled him into a dark corner, away from you and the crowds.

"What hyung?" He forcefully demanded, removing his arm from Jin's grasp. "I don't want to leave Noona by herself for too long."

"Why?" He cocked his head to the side. "Because someone might hit on her?"

Jungkook was silent.

Jin whispered, "Is that who I think it is?"

Jungkook shrugged. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, don't play dumb with me."

Jungkook glanced in your direction and almost took a step forward, when he saw a man making his way towards you. But he stopped himself as he saw the man was only passing by. Then he turned his attention back to Jin. "Okay okay. Yes, that's the Noona I was hanging out with...my sister's best friend."

And so what if he invited you out? He thought it was a friendly gesture since it's been a minute since he last saw you. Despite only seeing you at dinner, then at your workplace. Okay, to be honest, he wanted to spend every waking moment finding out what you've been up to these last few years.

"YAH!--Why would you--"

"Shh! Hyung! Keep it down! She might hear you." He looked in your direction. Watching, as you continued to sip on your water, scrolling through your phone. Not noticing the quarrel happening between the pair of them.

"What do you think will happen tonight? Hmm?" Jin was practically whisper-yelling at him.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." Jungkook peered your way again, and you turned around, catching his smile. "I was bored, so I asked her to come to the bar. I thought it might be nice to hang out."

"You were bored?" Jin said mockingly. "I've done this before and you don't just ask any woman to go to the bar. You ask because you have something else in mind. And she's your sister's best friend! What if your sister finds out?"

"Hyung, get your mind out of the gutter. I asked her down here for drinks, that's it. Nothing more, I swear."

Jin scoffed, crossing his arms. "Keep telling yourself that. I'll be waiting for your call when this all goes south."

"Nothing is going south."

"Yeah yeah, nothing except your di--"

Jungkook brought his hand to cover up Jin's mouth to stop him from talking. "Thanks for coming hyung, but I think it's time you go home."

Jin swatted away his hand and gave him another dirty look, knowing exactly the intentions he had for you. "Don't say I didn't tell you so and don't come whining to me when something goes wrong."

You could see the two of them heading back, still bickering like siblings as they approached you. Jungkook took the seat next to you and Jin held onto the back of both of your chairs.

"Well, I'm going to head out. It's getting late. It was nice to meet you." He took your hand and pressed his lips against it. Jungkook glared at him. Jin smiled as he glanced at Jungkook, knowing he was  fuming inside.

His gesture took you by surprise. "Oh--It was nice to meet you too. I'll see you around?"

Jin slightly bowed, turning to make his way out.

"Wait---are you friends with Namjoon then?"

He turned back around. "Kim Namjoon? Yeah, I'm his best friend."

"Ah--so you must know Yuna then, Jungkook's sister? I'm actually her best friend," you smiled.

"Wow Jungkookie, what a small world. Why yes, I do know Yuna." Jin gave Jungkook a look but he turned away.

"Hyung," Jungkook stressed, "Shouldn't you be going? Don't you have an early morning at work tomorrow?

"Right right. Again, it was nice to meet you and I'm sure I'll be seeing more of you." Jin sent you a wink.

Jungkook stood up and patted Jin on his back to hurry him out. "See. You. Later. Hyung." Emphasizing every single word.

"Wow, what a small world indeed. Yuna was just talking about him too."

"What did she say?"

"She said if I needed a date for the wedding, she could set me up with him."

✨ previous chapter ~ on set

✨ next chapter ~ slow dances can't lead to anything good

[pufflix]

fake lover

pairing: lee minho x f!reader

wc: 0,7k

genres: fluff(?), strangers!au

tw: swearing, creepy man following reader who he calls a b*tch at some point, alcohol consumption

note: last piece of ficscafe trope event. trope used: “we're lovers x i don't even know who you are”. stay safe y’all

networks: @ficscafe @k-radio @kflixnet

lee minho was casually drinking a beer at the bar counter, talking with his bartender friend about the latest news. a normal friday evening for a normal man.

you were a young woman, out of work after the sun went down. most of the time, you didn't have too much trouble getting home safely. tonight however, you started feeling a presence after two or three minutes of walking —it was a fifteen minutes walk— and, knowing you always passed by a bar to get to your house, you entered it like it was your destination. quickly glancing around for a familiar face —you found none— you walked up to the counter, next to the only man there was.

anxiously glancing over your shoulder to see if your follower was still here —he entered the bar in search for someone—, you didn’t wait to see if the someone was you; you turned to the guy at your left, blinking a few times at his soft looking skin and brown silky hair, before nudging him shyly.

as he faced you with a raised brow, you almost retreated. his stare was so intense, you considered fleeing him too for a second, but finally got the courage to speak.

"sorry to interrupt, but can you act as my boyfriend?"

it was his turn to blink. he was about to laugh, but instead shook his head.

"i don't even know who you are, gorgeous. also, i've seen better flirting," he scoffed before sipping on his beer.

"please—" swiftly turning your head to your left for any sign of the man —he was walking your way—, your eyes showing your emotions more vividly than words could explain, "i wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

when he didn't say anything, you looked at him, only to see he was already looking at you. he seemed to search for something in your eyes —honesty, perhaps— then his arm went around your waist, without touching you. to show him you accepted his touch, you stepped back until his arm went in contact with your back.

just then, the man showed himself at your right. he eyed the stranger's arm then grabbed your shoulder to make you turn his way.

he looked in his thirties, fit with a kind gaze. except, you could see a glint of wickedness in it that sent a chill through your body.

your 'boyfriend' must've felt it, because he brought you closer to him before asking: "who are you?"

the man reluctantly detached his eyes from your frame to answer. "i'm her colleague, i was about to propose her a drink. who are you?"

"her lover."

the disappointment the creep showed made you sick. it didn't stop him from approaching your ear to whisper: "see you at work, pretty."

disgusted, you quickly turned your head away from him. the support the beer man was unconsciously giving you helped you stood your ground.

"back off creep, i don't know you but if i see your face again, i won't hesitate to call the police."

"you bitch—" he tried to slap you but a hand grabbed his wrist before he could touch you.

"that's enough," your fake boyfriend said, gently pushing you aside while giving you a reassuring smile, before turning the man's wrist behind his back. "don't ever swear at her, or get closer than twenty meters from her, or even look at her again. am i clear?"

"y-yes," he groaned. when released, he left the bar fuming.

"are you okay?" he asked. you nodded, offering him a small smile. as he went to finish his beer, you thanked him. "i'll get you home."

the walk to your home was mostly silent, you two awkwardly walking next to each other.

"i'm sorry i put you through this," you said as you looked at the ground.

"are you kidding? who knows what would've happened if you didn't enter the bar. you did nothing wrong, princess."

"yeah but—"

"no buts. keep your head high, you're strong," he pep talked you with a kind smile on his face. he reached for his pocket and gave you what looked like a professional card. "you can call me whenever you need, i'll be happy to help."

you could finally read his name on the card: lee minho. self defense classes.

oh, you would definitely call him.

"thanks. i'm y/n, by the way."

"nice to meet you, y/n."

[deliciousangelfestival]

Wicked Romance

Chapter 1

Character: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve was hoping to meet the right one until he met her. But is he ready to be with her? He thought his life already dark because of his job. He wouldn’t able to find a woman that strong enough to face the hardship to stand beside him. Turn out his life is nothing compared to her. 

Warning: Maybe bad writing? Hehehe forgive me. This is my first time write and posting my own fan fiction on tumblr.

############

If an outsider sees Steve, he got everything: looks, money, status. But for him, he lacks one thing; the right person to stand beside him.  

But let’s talk about how Steve became the new mob leader.

Steve got raised by his mother Sarah Rogers, it was until he retired from the military he reconnected with his father again. 

He thought his father, Joseph Rogers owns a security firm every time he visits him when he was a kid after his parents divorced. Until he reaches a certain age he realized his father actually is a mob boss. He found his childhood friend Bucky, they went to the army together, also working with his father after he got into an accident that cost his left arm. 

He owes it to his father, but Joseph doesn’t need his son to pay his debt. He only wanted his son to stay with him. Joseph has everything, but he missing two things; his lovely wife and his son. 

Joseph loves Sarah, but he forgot she doesn’t come from a mobster background. When they got married, she was overwhelmed. Looking at her husband coming home with blood on his hands or they need to stay at the safe house when she was 8 months pregnant and when Steve was baby the rival gang tried to hurt her and their son. 

Sarah admitted to Joseph that she couldn’t live like this. In the end, she asks to separated but they never divorced. Joseph never sends the document to the court. 

When Joseph retired, he decided to be honest. He went to chase his wife again. With a lot of effort the couple reunited again.

Their love story was so sweet that could make Steve’s teeth hurt. Joseph appointed Steve as the new leader while he enjoys his second honeymoon with his wife. 

It’s been 5 years since Steve became the new mob boss, now he’s waiting for the one that could help him write a sweet story like his parents. 

## 

Right now around lunchtime at the fancy that owned by Rogers. Steve and others like Bucky and Sam are sitting at the bar. While Pietro is the bartender serving their drinks. 

It's a usual day for them but it's a little bit different with Steve this time.

Steve head not looking at his food because notices someone seating near the window. She wearing a dress, not too sexy but he could see her legs. She is completely different from a woman who dressed less to get his attention. The reason is simple Steve is an attractive man, tall, broad shoulder, the expensive three-piece suit that wraps his muscles. He only sits for 3 minutes, few girls try to seduce him but he politely or in a sarcastic way to shoo them. 

And the girl who he watched for a while won’t budge to turned around. It poked his ego a little bit. He quite used to with the flirt and attention. 

“You still staring at her.”

Bucky’s words made Steve snap up from his trance. 

Steve shook his head, he couldn’t help it because he wants to see the woman face who sitting alone. 

“Pfft.”

Someone who holds his laughter. Three of them turn their gaze towards the bartender served their drink. 

“Something funny Pietro?” Steve raised his eyebrows. 

“I’m just surprised my boss lose his game before approaching Miss Lilly.”

Steve tilts his head “You knew her name?”

Pietro nodded while whipping the glass with cloth “Yup, the gorgeous lady that always left a big tip.” 

“She has become a regular?” Sam asks surprised. 

“Perhaps, it’s difficult to forget her since the first time she came here.” Pietro is a sucker for a beautiful woman. 

He put the clean glass on the shelf “The day she came here also the first day Peter Peter start his job.”

The alpha male grunted when Parker’s name mentioned. That kid is troublesome. He always late for his job and clumsy, but he’s the best chef assistant according to Wanda who the head chef at the restaurant. 

“So she’s been our customer for 5 months. How come we never notice her?” Sam whispered asking. They always come here every day for lunch and dinner. 

Pietro raised his shoulder “Usually she only stays for 10 minutes after buying one drink. Then she left. This is the first time she asks for a table.” 

After hearing the info from Pietro, Steve looking at her back once again. 

“Steve, if you don’t talk to her I will,” Sam said while moving from his seat. 

Steve stop Sam by grabbing his shoulder “I didn’t say I don’t want to.”

“Go get her punk.” Bucky raised his fist.

Steve nodded, he walks closer towards her table, he doesn’t understand why his heart beating so fast. 

He already in his game, using his usual pick-up line and smile, but before his foot stops at her table, she turns her head towards him. 

It felt like a slow-motion when he saw her looking at him. 

The first moment he looked at her eyes, somehow the time stop and world in only both of them. 

She looks at him with a friendly smile. ‘Her eyes,’ he couldn’t look away. 

“Hi…” He couldn’t believe he almost squeaked his voice. Steve could feel his face turn red like tomatoes. How he wishes, the situation could change.

‘BANG’

The loud sound came from the gun sound. The door abruptly opened by a bunch of guys who wear suits, some of them holding guns, and baseball bat, and the one who leads them is Brock Rumlow. 

Steve cursed, because of the annoying newcomer, he already lost the moment with her. But partly he blamed himself, earlier he wished to change the situation. Be careful what you wished for.

It must be his rival gang who crash his business again. This is the third time in one month. Since Brock became the new head after Pierce died. 

“Damn it.” He saw Bucky and Sam already start kicking and punching. 

He turned at her, he looks at her with puppy eyes “Forgive me for today’s distraction. You don’t have to pay. It’s free.”

Before she could reply, one guy holding a baseball bat, and swing at Steve but he able to stop it. 

“Everyone leave this place !!!” He screamed his lungs out to alarm the guest who still shocked. All of them ran to save their lives. 

Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Pietro busy fighting their rival. 

No wonder why he had bad feelings, today seems nothing could go wrong. He knew something bad will happen. Turn out it’s Rumlow. 

“What do you want Rumlow?” Steve hissed at the uninvited guest.

Brock shrugged his shoulder “Oh nothing, I just want to say hi to my rival, since I became the boss now.”

‘Because of that reason?’ Steve inwardly thought. But he knew why Rumlow did this, he want everyone to know his name since he recently got this position. And this bastard choose his place at the wrong time and the wrong place.

Both of them punches at each other and destroyed the furniture.

Brock always sneaky, he prepares a hidden knife under his sleeves aka phantom blade. 

He succeeded stab Steve’s shoulder. 

“Urgh.” But because of his muscles, it didn’t go that deep. 

Brock brings Steve to his shoulder and throws him to the ground. 

Steve landed on the ground while Brock put on a mocking smile looking down at him. 

“Boys~”

The seductive voice made both of them turn to see who it was. 

Steve widened his eyes when he saw the girl who took his breath away standing in front of them. 

When she stood, he could see she’s wearing a skirt that has a high cut on her left thigh. Steve and Brock were taken aback because under the fabric there’s a belt dagger. 

She slightly pouted which made Steve thought for a second she looks adorable. But what the hell is she doing here when he already told everyone to leave this place.

She put her right hand on her left chest “It breaks my heart seeing my favorite restaurant destroyed like this.”

Steve somehow felt happy when he knew she like his work.

She grabs the dagger and throws it to Steve. 

“I’m lending it to you.” She winked at him, and turn around to grab her coat. She headed to the exit door, easily avoided the fight.

“That’s one hot lady right there.” 

“Yeah, she is.”  Steve took the chance to give a butthead towards Brock. He doesn’t want this jerk to look at his ‘future date’. 

Brock screamed while holding his broken nose “That’s was low, I was distracted.”

“Let’s get this over with. I can’t do this all day.” Steve finally let out his rage towards Rumlow. 

####

Their fight is done with the result Steve side who won. 

“I’ll get you next time,” Brock screamed angrily, his fingers broken by Steve. He got carried by the paramedic. 

Steve wiped his bloody nose with a cloth while Bruce pressing his shoulder “Yeah yeah, just not in this place again.” He answered lazily. 

He sighed because he’s getting tired of Rumlow childish fight. After his wound got treated by Bruce, Steve went back into the restaurant. 

What he saw is a broken window, table, the custom leather chair that imported from Italy also ruined. There will be one person who will be crazy over this, Natasha who also his accountant, and Bucky’s wife. 

His shoes step on the broken glass, his eyes locking to the table where she sat. 

When he arrived he saw the book she read. Steve notice there is a bookmark inside of it. He doesn’t want to touch her touch without permission but he eager wants to see what inside. 

Steve put his hand on his mouth and gasped “Oh f**k!”

“Language you punk!” Bucky and Sam appear from behind. Their face and hands also bruised because of the short fight. 

“What’s wrong?”

They got no answer from Steve. He look like a statue still looking at his hands.

Bucky and Sam glanced at the bookmark on Steve’s hand. Both of them smirked.

’When the restaurant re-open, text me: (646)-xxxxxxxx’

Steve’s mind went back to the first time he saw her face and that beautiful smile, then the way she’s not afraid of the craziness that happens today, and she lent him a dagger so he can win. 

He didn’t think it wasn’t a thing, but it happened to him. 

He fell in love at the first sight. 

“We totally lose him.” Sam waves his hand in front of Steve’s eyes. 

They could see Steve on cloud nine right now. 

“Good for him, maybe he could move on this time,” Bucky murmured. 

Sam pointed one critical point “But first of all, we need to tell your wife about today.” 

Bucky sighed “That’s the difficult part.” 

While his friends busy thinking about how to coaxing Natasha so she won’t stun them with the lecture that could last for the whole day and make their ear hurts, Steve is planning how to renovate the restaurant fast so he could text her.

>>>CHAPTER 2

Taglist:

@cloudystevie​

[zemarune]

Diluc's past is slightly mentioned, if you don't want to read spoilers, then please don't proceed further.

   ~ •°《 ｡･:*˚:✧｡ ☆  ｡✧:˚*:･｡》 °• ~

•° Diluc Fluff Alphabet°•

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

The fact that you accept him like he is. You accept that he needs his space and rarely shows any affection without complaining, even though he'd like to change that about himself, he can't help but feel happy that you don't judge him.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your/his body?)

Your eyes. He loves how he can read you through them, the very eyes he feels mesmerized with as soon as he'd look at them. He likes his hands the most. He knows he's good with them (not meant in any sexual way) because of him being a bartender at angel's share from time to time. He also knows that his touch has a great positive effect on you, so that's a plus for him. Diluc can also massage you with them too make you feel good.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

He's a secretive person and his PDA level is very low, so there won't be any cuddles if you're not home or in a safe haven alone. If you're home, then prepare to not be able to leave. He'll hold you close to him for as long as he can.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

A typical dinner date with only you two. He'll feel the most comfortable if it's in his home. He, personally, will see to set it up but the food will be made by the best cooks he can offer.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

He hardly shows you any kind of emotions out in the open except for his love and admiration. He doesn't want you to worry about him or trouble you. But of course if you ask him about it, then he'll try to show you as much of himself and his emotions as possible.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

He'd also love to have a family with you, yet he's afraid of it as well. The world is dangerous and having lost his father, he fears that he won't be able to save you and or your kids too.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving?)

He'll buy you anything you want, there's nothing you won't get. If your gaze lingers on something for even a second, then Diluc will buy it immediately. He sees it as a normal way to treat the person he loves. Tell him to stop and the gift giving might be reduced.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

Not in public. Most of the time, he won't show any affection to you if you're outside, as mentioned before. Depending on the situation, of course. If a certain cavalry captain is feeling more flirty than usual with you and oversteps his boundaries in Diluc's eyes, then he will grab your hand and send a destroying gaze to the blue haired male. Other than that, he'll show you tons of affection at your home to make up for the lack of contact earlier!

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

He'll panic. What if you'll die like his father? Will you leave him as well? He'll immediately bring you to the best healer in reach. Blames himself like back then. He's sure he could have protected you if only he would have paid more attention. You wouldn't be in pain then. Of course, if it's a rather minor wound, he'll still worry but not as much. Show him your love and tell him you won't leave, it may not seem like it but it will calm him down.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you?)

He may try to tell you a joke if the atmosphere between you two is very heavy. Otherwise he's serious, he doesn't prank anyone and there are rarely any jokes coming from him.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

In a private place, tender and sweet kisses on your lips or forehead. He's a soft guy, Diluc likes to kiss you on your lips, yet he'd only do so, if he has some time. He wants to make your kisses memorable. If he's busy, then he'll kiss your forehead, cheeks or even the back of your hand!

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

Through affectionate words at your home. The presents and physical contact may be nice, yet he believes that words are better, they do speak louder than actions after all.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

When you said yes to his confession. It is the most joyful moment in his life so far. He thought he'll never be happy but then you came along and brightened his world. You even love him back! What could be better?

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

Losing you to someone else or in general. Having lost his father before, he's scared of losing another beloved person. Knowing there are people who you could be happier with, who are more open about emotions, who can show and give you the love and affection you deserve makes him slightly insecure about himself.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

The fact that he owns and produces wine, yet doesn't like it and it's taste. It's actually quite hilarious if one thinks about it. On the other hand, it's also cute how flustered he gets when you ask him about it, because it confused you.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

His world. Before he met you, the world he saw and lived in, was filled with sinners and corruption. You cleansed his world, soul and heart. You make him enjoy being in the world he is in. There wouldn't be you in another one. You are his world. And he doesn't wish to leave it. Yet, he'll rarely call you that, it's rather more of a statement. Instead he'll call you darling or love but when you're silently sleeping in his embrace, in that moment you could hear him whisper that you're his everything. His world.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

At his or your home. When he's got some free time and you're available as well, then he'd absolutely love to spend the time with cuddles and a lot affection. Outside he doesn't show you any, so he has to repay you for your patience at home!

R = Romance (how romantic are they? Cliché or rather creative?)

A bit inexperienced but he tries his best to be as romantic as possible for you. Therefor he's more cliché. He'll try to come up with something to impress you though!

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

He's pretty open but if a secret can be harmful to you, in his eyes, then he will not mention it. He'll lock it away, so you'll never have to face it. He also intended to keep his doings as the darknight hero a secret, the abyss order is after him and they could cause some trouble, which he wants to prevent from reaching you. Now, someone close to him still told you, may or may not have been on accident too. You'll never guess who let the words slip!

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

He's inexperienced. He didn't know what to say or do. He had to get the confidence and then some tips from a professional, in hope that Kaeya wouldn't joke around and make a fool out of Diluc. Luckily for Kaeya the advice to just confess worked, so he's safe from the red haired man's wrath.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

He'll give you the time you need, however he'll be worried for you. He'll give you even more gifts than before in order to make you feel happy again. He'd do anything. After a bit, if you didn't speak to him already, then he will go to you. He misses you whenever you're not with him, even if you're just a door away.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

He won't show you off. You're not an object and he refuses to treat you like one. Nonetheless, he's proud that you're his. He loves you and can't imagine someone more perfect than you.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

He'll always fight with or for you. However, that won't change the fact that he's just as worried for you as he'd be if you're hurt. He knows that he, most likely, will be busy with his own battle so he can't protect you as much as he wants to.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

He needs some time to adjust to the fact that you're his lover now and to all your reactions, physical as well as mental. In order to not hurt you with words or actions, he has to read you very well, so that's what he'll learn. And he will be able to read you after. He studied you and your behavior almost like Albedo with alchemy. Not in a scary way though!

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

As mentioned before, he tries his best to be romantic, so he'll choose a beautiful scenery as a perfect spot for a proposal. On Dragonspine's highest place for example. You can see almost everything from up there, and watching the sunset is just so mesmerizing! If that's not romantic, then Diluc doesn't know what else is!

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

Knowing you're save. Even better if you're in his arms, but the knowledge is working too. He'll go insane not knowing if you're well or not. He'll be worried sick and his mind is running wild with possible worst case scenarios. Having you right with him or knowing you're well will ease his anxiety.

             ~ •°《 ｡･:*˚:✧｡ ☆  ｡✧:˚*:･｡》 °• ~

[welovethecloudboytoomuch]

Mic: (About Eri) She uh really looks like your daughter, huh.

Oboro: Sorry, but that can’t be true. I was too busy being an evil bartender to sire offspring.

Mic: ...

Eraser: ...

Mic: Did you just sa-

Oboro: DID I JUST SAY SIRE OFFSPRING WHAT THE F U C K- HAVE KIDS. PROCREATE. SHOOT A LOAD INTO THE SHIMSHAM OF A LADY- NOT SIRE OFFSPRING! BLECK. FUCK!

(I imagine getting out of Kuro-speak is difficult when you’ve been talking that way for 15~ years)

[ofxdiamonds]

[ zendaya & she/her / cisfemale ] watch out, [ diamond bellevue ] has crash-landed into roswell !! they look [ 22 years old ] and celebrate their birthday on [ december 15th ]. they are from [ new york city ], reside in [ moonbeam gardens ] and are currently working as a [ model / entrepreneur ]. one thing you should know about them is that [ she travels a lot for her work ].

trigger warnings: mention of drugs, drinking, eating disorder & mental illness

- B A S I C -

FULL NAME: Diamond Nathalia Bellevue NICKNAME(S): Dime, Di or Dia AGE: 22 OCCUPATION: Model / Entrepreneur. She is a businesswoman, through and through - starting at eighteen, she’s been buying and reselling high fashion and beauty products online, and as of recently she’s now the proud owner of SWAG Dance Studio, and is a well-known fashion-content influencer and creator on social media. BIRTHDAY: December 15th ZODIAC: Sagittarius HOGWARTS HOUSE: Slytherin

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Pansexual ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good

- F A M I L Y -

FATHER:  (Adopted) Winston Bellevue MOTHER: (Adopted) Betty Bellevue SIBLINGS: (Adopted) Four older siblings (between the ages of 26 - 40) CHILDREN: 13-month old son, Andre

PETS:    - A Doberman puppy - Cicero

- A P P E A R A N C E -

HEIGHT: 5′10′’ WEIGHT: 120 lbs HAIR COLOR / TYPE:  Dark brown / Naturally curly. She sometimes straightens it EYE COLOR: Dark Hazel

- P E R S O N A L I T Y -

(+) Independent, Gregarious, Clever, Ambitious, Resourceful (-) Unrestrained, Wild, Impulsive, Reckless, Sarcastic

She is definitely ambitious and inarguably intelligent, and can find solutions to pretty much any problem she comes across. Yet at the same time, she can also be quite reckless and selfish, and is still very much a child in a lot of ways...which is kind of concerning for her family and loved ones, since she has a kid of her own to take care of.

She parties, drinks and does drugs often, yet still she somehow manages to be responsible enough in her day to day life, taking her work and the care of her son very seriously. Despite her reckless and unrestrained nature, Dime loves Dante dearly and wants only the best for him.

- L I K E S -

Spending time with her son, and their dog, Cicero

Dancing

Exploring different hobbies

Working Out / Going to the gym / Going on hikes and runs

Partying & Drinking

Doing Drugs

Engaging in Flings

Shopping

Photography

- B I O G R A P H Y -

Originally from New York City.

Was born to a teenaged drug addict, and was put up for adoption the second she was born, only to be adopted a few short months later by Winston and Betty Bellevue, an older English couple in their late forties from the Upper East Side of Manhattan who had lived in London with four older children, up until a few years ago when they decided to relocate to New York.

Her father was one of the top cosmetic surgeons in the state of New York, while her mother was a leading patent attorney.

She had a great relationship with her parents, and though her siblings were significantly older than she was, she was still quite close to each and every one of them as well...despite some strong and even sometimes clashing personalities and views. They tended to be overly judgmental at times, particularly with Diamond, given that she was the baby of the family and due to her impulsive life choices. It often annoyed the hell out of her.

She was born with NAS, thanks to her birth mother, and later on when she was just a few years old, she was diagnosed with Bipolar, ARFID and a mild case of OCD.

Dime has always had an aversion to food, starting from infancy and that worried her parents greatly, because she pretty much refused most forms of food. She was diagnosed with ARFID in her youth, but it’s since turned into a full on eating disorder. She hardly eats anything, even when she feels hungry, but when she does, it’s only ever the bare minimum. Her appetite is just non-existent, and she wholeheartedly blamed her medication for a lot of it (though that’s just the excuse she uses to dismiss any concerns).

Despite her weak mental and physical health, though, Diamond led a pretty normal and happy life in Manhattan, with her family.

She was a major hobbyist, even as a child, and so she was always bouncing from one activity to another, easily bored with thing once she’d mastered it and always wanting to try new and exciting things. Dancing, vocal lessons, piano and violin lessons, painting, scrapbooking, journaling, photography, needlework...you name it, she’s very likely dabbled in it.

Dancing, painting and an interest in photography were things she still maintained an interest in. At the age of five, her parents put her in her first dance class and she fell in love with it. She learned ballet first, but quickly grew to love contemporary hip-hop, and to this day, she still danced and could have potentially went professional if the love for modeling hadn’t taken over her life.

She was first introduced to modeling at the age of nine, when she was scouted while in the mall with her mother, and after getting her parents’ consent, Dime was allowed to be signed to the agency and soon she began work as a child model. She absolutely loved it.

Of course, being a child model couldn’t last forever and once she reached 18, she discovered that it was harder and harder to find modeling work, and that the industry was one tough son of a bitch.

More than a little discouraged but not ready to give up on her dream altogether, Diamond decided to attend NYU Stern’s Fashion & Luxury MBA program while also continuing to book whatever work she could get within the city. During this time, in between her classes and the drugs and parties she began to indulge in, she started her first ever business, which was buying and reselling fashion and beauty products online. She’s still doing that to this day.

While in her second year at school, she met an older gentleman by the name of Jared, who worked as a bartender at one of the local clubs that she often went to with her friends. Although never officially calling what they had a ‘relationship’, that didn’t stop them from sleeping with one another quite frequently. It was a casual thing, and it didn’t mean much to her - she just liked the sex and the free drugs and booze he’d often provided her with.

At the age of 19, Diamond discovered that she was pregnant. When she told Jared about the pregnancy, she completely rejected the idea that he was the father, which did not come as much of a shock to her. He’d always been a douchebag, and she kind of expected it. Even so, she was still hurt by it, but refused to show it.

Pretending that she hadn’t been hurt by the rejection and being called a liar, Dime simply shrugged and moved on - after all, it wasn’t like she loved Jared or wanted anything from him in the long run. In fact, she very likely wouldn’t have even bothered to tell him about the baby at all, if it weren’t for her family encouraging her that it was the right thing to do.

Throughout her pregnancy and even after the birth of her son, Andre, Diamond continued going to school, determined to get her degrees. Having a baby young - though not something she had expected - didn’t at all deter her ambitions; in fact, it only drove her to work harder and smarter, wanting to secure some sort of financial success and security in order to raise her son and give him a good life. Much like the one she’d had with her own parents.

She was proud of the fact that her online business was doing exceptionally well with how profitable it really was, and that she no longer had to rely on her parents to fund her; she was now financially independent and that felt beyond amazing.

She also became a successful online influencer, doing modeling, makeup and fashion-related content on Instagram, Youtube and TikTok. 

With no luck of getting the kind of modeling work she really wanted in the Big Apple, the dream to become a full time fashion model slowly died over time. Quite saddened upon coming to the realization that it just wasn’t in the cards for her, the young single mother turned her focus on her next big dream: becoming an entrepreneur. Already with one successful business under her belt, Diamond knew it was the right choice in the end.

Once she was finished with her schooling, where she earned degrees in Fashion Business and Marketing, Diamond decided to move from New York to Roswell, New Mexico, to stay with her oldest brother, who’d moved there a few years prior, until she and Andre were comfortably settled and she could find a place on her own.

With her own hard earned money, she was able to buy a building in downtown Roswell and spent a few months renovating it, before only just recently opening her own dance studio, called SWAG Dance Studio.

Despite only just getting her studio up and running, Diamond already had plans for several more future business endeavors that she would likely implement in the coming few years, ever the ambitious young woman that she was.

Still, Diamond never stopped modeling whenever the opportunity of a good job came her way. She traveled constantly - nationally and internationally - and so, had a nanny for Andre and when they weren’t available, her brother would watch him.

- W A N T E D   C O N N E C T I O N S -

Oldest Adopted Brother - Diamond and her son Andre are currently staying at his home in Moonbeam Gardens. Suggested FC: Tom Hiddleston | Age: 37-40

Other (Older) Siblings (who are also adopted) - There are three other siblings, all older than Diamond but younger than her eldest brother. All of them are adopted, so ethnicity isn’t an issue. Suggested FCs: Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Zoe Kravitz, Gemma Chan, Emilia Clarke, Luke Pasqualino - but I’m more than open to other suggestions! (They’d all be between the ages of 26 - 36).

Best Friend(s)

Casual Friend(s)

People she can get high with (i.e., party friends, bad influences, etc.)

Drinking Buddies - people she can rely on to always be up for going out bar hopping or clubbing with. Kind of ties in with the bad influences and party friends.

Dancing or Workout Buddies - She loves to go dancing (she’s a trained dancer) and working out, either at the gym or going on hikes and long walks, so it would be fun to have someone she can go with.

Rivals / Enemies / Frenemies

Neighbors of Moonbeam Gardens

Babysitter / Nanny / Daycare - for Andre

Love Interests and / or Flings & One-Nighters - She’s got a thing for older men, so it would be fun to explore that a bit, in either a serious or casual fashion.

[regrettablewritings]

How They Spend the Quarantine (Tadashi Hamada, Lucifer Morningstar, Dewey Finn, Wade Wilson, Harley Quinn, & Benoit Blanc)

Just a fun (?? is that even responsible to say?) little thing I’ve been thinking about while slogging through this neverending hellscape of an extended lockdown.

Tadashi Hamada

When San Fransokyo was ordered to go into a lockdown, there were mixed feelings.

At first, Tadashi had a hint of optimism that this would mean more time to work on his prospective projects . . . But then he quickly realized that his projects mostly required tools and space offered by the campus. He could technically make do at home, but it wouldn’t quite be the same considering the garage was considered Hiro’s space.

Somberly had to clean out his lab and take whatever he could home.

Cue the rest of the group (sans Fred and Hiro) griping that at least his style of science could travel well enough to be somewhat continued off of university grounds.

Helps do delivery for The Lucky Cat. It helps him get out the house, and it’s simply helpful altogether.

Uses Baymax frequently to make sure everyone down to Mochi is sanitized, and nobody’s running a fever.

Nearly as frequent a sanitizer as Aunt Cass.

He starts most days prepared to be productive, only to stop and poke fun at Hiro, who’s almost always got his eyes trained on a video game.

Tadashi realizes three hours later that he, too, has been playing the game as Player 2.

Learned how to make facial masks with Aunt Cass. He already knew how to sew a little but frankly, making the masks made him realize he could have a new hobby on his hands. He’s currently trying to figure out how to make Mochi a little vest . . .

Lucifer Morningstar

B o r e d. A s. F u c k.

At first, he thinks everyone being forced to go home would work in his favor -- surely some rule-breakers would sneak out and try to bunk up with the Devil, right?

Well . . . Kinda? Once Chloe found out and scolded him about it, the idea died real fast. Plus, he realized he wasn’t quite fond of the possibility of being around someone who could pop up with a disgusting human sickness at any point during their time with him. Smearing their snot all over, coughing into his Egyptian cotton sheets . . . Nope, never mind, he is perfectly content having the penthouse to himself, thank you very much!

Except he’s not.

The poor bastard is going crazy by himself -- he’s just not used to being without some kind of company!

“At least in Hell, you could tell there were people around you based on the screaming!” he’d whine at his phone during his hourly video chat with Chloe.

Oh yes: The video chats. He tries to make them hourly with anyone he can get a hold of (namely, his long-suffering detective) but this clearly never plays out as he would like for it to: If he had it his way, everyone would respond in an instant and let him bounce mainly one-sided conversations off of them -- basically, what he did before all this went down.

What usually winds up happening is he gets hung up on or nobody answers him at all out of sheer annoyance over his clinginess.

Ironically, he’s not exactly crazy about when Amenadiel initiates those “family calls”. He insists it’s healthy and normal for them to do this and even calls Luci out on the hypocrisy, but let’s face it: Lucifer finds it obnoxiously gushy and weird.

He works his way into Linda’s video appointment books to help him cope with his boredom and admitted need for interactions. She doesn’t mind offering him counsel, but once Lucifer starts attempting to butt in during others’ appointment calls, it becomes an issue.

Has, at some point, gotten buzzed down in Lux and streamed himself attempting to pole dance. It drew quite a bit of attention.

He’s managed to gain a bit of a following and some companionship by streaming himself playing piano and singing. It’s not the same thing as having an actual audience, in his opinion, but it will have to do for now.

He’s never been one to binge with regards to TV shows or movies, but after the first week, he decided to binge watch every work action star Wesley Cabot was ever in.

Makes sure his staff still gets paid well. After all, he’s pretty well-off; there’s no need to make an innocent bartender’s life a living hell just because some other rich bastard fucked up, yeah?

Going off this, should he need to order to-go or anything, we already know he tends to tip as handsomely as he looks.

Dewey Finn

Kids were being sent to Horace Green on tuitions worth more than what some people saw in half a year -- of course the school was going to continue classes online!

While technically an afterschool instructor, the program is popular enough for parents to expect it to continue, and for Dewey to be kept on payroll.

Initially, he was pretty smug: He’s one if, if not, the youngest teacher-figure at Horace Green, so surely that means he’s more tech savvy than his older, stiffer coworkers, right? For once, he’s ahead of the curve!

Wrong: Figuring out Zoom was a headache, and then there was the realization of just how dependent his classes were on actual physical presence.

Plus, let’s be real: Dewey’s Internet connection was decent on its own, but craptastic when compared to those of his wealthier students. The lag is strong with this one.

Has definitely accidentally messed up the background on his screen. Somehow wound up with the Beetlejuice background and got so frustrated, he wound up keeping it there for two whole sessions.

In spite of the slight issues regarding lag, they pull through and try to resume lessons as best they can.

Tries to keep optimism by pointing out how this is a new form of entertainment they could be pioneers in.

Some days, it’s just going so wack or everyone’s so bleh that Dewey just assigns for them to watch a music documentary or something.

“Okay, kids, Mr. Finn’s hungover and clearly Summer is the only one who went to bed before 3am. So what I’m gonna have you do is watch . . . Prrrbbbb . . . Amadeus.” “How is Amadeus rock-related?” “It had a rock single, shut up. Anyway, we meet back next class and talk about what we saw, m’kay? M’kay. Over and out.”

Next class, he’s filled with dread as Summer produces an in-depth analysis of the relationship or lack thereof between character and the presence of talent as evidenced by Mozart’s abilities juxtaposed with his immature presentation and -- Dewey just can’t keep up. Sure, Summer, why not?

When he’s not busy teaching, however, he’s using the lockdown to work on some new material. Or just screwing around.

Otherwise, let’s be real, Big Boy’s living the high life in a place of his own: Playing video games (Animal Crossing, recently got back into Team Fortress 2, is trying to finally finish Ocarina of Time); eating a not very great diet; staying up late, napping at weird times; all in the name of quarantine.

If he orders delivery or to-go, he tips the best he can.

Wade Wilson

On one hand, murking never goes on lockdown. But on the other . . . He’s already technically not well, why risk that even with his mutation?

Oh, fuck I just remembered he lives at the X Mansion, never mind turn back turn back oh god give us free --

The situation is tense to say the least. There’s Wade, who’s sensible enough to know why the quarantine is in place . . . and then there’s everyone else, who knows Wade’s full of shit.

And by everyone, I “coincidentally” mean Colossus, Nega Sonic, Yukio, Domino, Cable, and Russ because the already small world of the sequel just got smaller by the fact that everyone is bound to a large but nonetheless single estate whose size has probably decreased from that of the First Class timeline.

You know those videos of the usual Quarantine Characters? Wade is somehow yet still unsurprisingly all of them, save for the frequent sanitizer. He raids the pantry frequently, sleeps at all hours, considers scooting a swivel chair down the halls exercise for the thighs, blasts video games, and so on.

Going back to the sanitizer thing, it’s not that he’s just not exactly known for being tidy. Colossus occasionally does drag him out of bed at a decidedly decent time (read: any time before 11am) to try and get him excited about cleaning up around the mansion, but it rarely ends well. At this point, the safest option is to just remind Wade to wash his hands for 20 seconds as necessary.

Has acquired a Switch and visits everyone’s island, often to bonk them on the head with a net or gift them with weird crap they don’t necessarily want. For the “friends” from Sister Margaret’s, he has somehow acquired their Dodo Codes. Nobody knows how he did this. 

Facetimes Dopinder frequently.

“Precious, you’re the beacon of light in this cold, cruel world.” “I miss you, too, DP --” “Sshshsh! I’m having a moment . . .” *weeps*

On the many occasions he orders delivery, he tips by giving the delivery person something expensive from the mansion that they can sell. Prof. X is loaded, after all. Plus, he more or less isn’t even present in this universe, it’s not like he’s gonna miss anything he can’t see/probably doesn’t even know exists in his house. The problem is, Colossus does exist and does notice and does care when things go missing. Leading to many a delivery person getting caught up in shenanigans at that weird school in the boonies that they either don’t get paid enough to deal with or couldn’t pay to make up.

“Oh, pawn shops are closed?” asks the man who looks like a skinned avocado if avocados had human skin. “Don’t worry, lemme hook you up -- I know some guys --” “DEADPOOOOOLLL!!” roars a Russian accent from inside the house. “WHERE IS THE BRONZE BUST OF THE PROFESSOR!?” The poor delivery person’s eyes widen as they realize that the odd cargo they’ve been presented with apparently holds some value of some kind. But before they can flee, the avocado man blurts, “Shit! Leave the pizza in the bushes, look me up on my Youtube page, byyyeeee!!”

In his defense, Wade does hold up his end of the deal. Much like the Dodo Codes, nobody knows what strings he pulled. They just accept it and move on.

Harley Quinn

Surprisingly compliant.

She’s crazy, not stupid: Staying at home may suck, but what sucks more is making things harder on people who may not fair so well. Besides, she’s spent time in a maximum security prison -- she can handle staying cooped up in her own home. At least home has TV, books, and snacks.

When she hears people are still going out without masks or plotting to have a protest, she strongly considers firing up the old Fun Gun and popping the next sign-carrying Karen she sees with a tit full of cadmium yellow powder.

Seriously, stay the fuck home and fuck up your own hair; this is the perfect time to make mistakes with your looks, it ain’t like you got anywhere to be or anyone to impress.

“STAY THE FUCK HOME, BITCH!” P O W!!! “JUST GO GREY ALREADY, WE ALL KNOW YOUR HAIR AIN’T THAT COLOR ANYMORE, YOU’RE THREE YEARS FROM BEING IN THE GODDAMN AGE-BRACKET!!!” P O W!!!!

Only leaves her new apartment to grab groceries and to take Bruce on a walk. She actually refuses to steal or cause a scene during this shitshow because she may be a bad guy, but she sure ain’t evil.

So far, there haven’t been complaints about the fact that she’s walking a hyena down a public street. Maybe it’s because there’s hardly anyone out? Maybe it’s because Gothamites just can’t be bothered to be fazed by it . . . Or maybe it’s because she made him a little mask for his snout.

“In this house, we wash our hands for at least 20 seconds, kid.”

Lets the forest reclaim the earth, so to speak. She was never really shaving anything for anyone but herself before, but now it just seems especially pointless.

Spends almost every day in a kigurumi. To give her a semblance of routine, she has a pink bear one she calls her “Sunday Suit.” She doesn’t know it’s not Sunday because the days just blur but Cass just doesn’t have the heart to tell her; she seemed so proud of herself . . .

Like everyone else, she’s gotten Animal Crossing. She’s trying to create an all-preppy island with a few exceptions (Astrid = Aesthetic, m’kay?)

Tips nicely when ordering delivery.

Benoit Blanc

As young and spry in nature as the gentleman sleuth would like to think of himself, he would really rather not test the dangers of the situation and go about all foolhardy -- he’s staying home!

In theory, it’s only logical and therefore perfectly fine. But in practice . . . God, he wishes he’d invested more in things to occupy himself with when home.

It wasn’t that Benoit was never home, he just never felt too much of a need to invest in a fancy entertainment center -- the fanciest he ever got was an iHome.

The beginning of the quarantine served as the perfect time for him to read over case files, catch up on paperwork, even catch up on some reading he’d been putting on hold since God knows when due to cases popping up left and right. But that dried up quicker than he’d assumed, and that’s when he was faced with what a man of his mind dreads the most: Boredom.

Finally caved and decided to hook up Amazon Fire.

Expected to use the one-month free trial on Netflix and be just fine but once the lockdown in his area got extended and he realized he wasn’t going to be able to catch up with Crazy Ex-Girlfriend at this rate, he caves even further and buys a subscription.

Fully delights at the influx of platforms uploading Broadway recordings; when The Show Must Go On put on Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, followed by The Phantom of The Opera, it was a treat, I tell you!

Sanitizes often, despite hardly ever leaving his house besides to have a smoke or to go grab groceries. Honestly, it’s less about cleaning at this point so much as it is finding something to occupy his focus when he feels there’s nothing else to so.

Takes zinc after every meal to help lessen the intensity of any ailment that might hit him.

Definitely owns a facemask. There’s a good chance it’s from Marta or one of his relatives, and there’s another good chance the pattern is as flamboyant as his clothing. He’s delighted.

Benoit tries not to rely too much on delivery,  as he’d much rather just cook. On the rare occasion where tipping comes up, however, he gives as generously as he can.

Bonus: There’s a slight chance he might have acquired a companion to foster early on in the quarantine. Benoit hadn’t had a pet since childhood, a crime of which he was admittedly melancholic of his own involvement. However, his surprisingly busy lifestyle just wouldn’t suit a four-legged friend, now could it?

Well, now there’s time to. Besides, it would certainly ease the potential feeling of loneliness to have someone or something with whom he could interact with.

Admittedly, when shelters began encouraging people to invest time in taking home a companion, he’d been looking more for a comrade on the canine side of the spectrum -- but darn, if Duke wasn’t a handsome cat.

A lovely grey-and-white cat with eyes that matched his own, Duke has become the one Benoit monologues to (because in all honesty, the man is a performer at heart, in need of an audience to speak his mind to and portray a thought before). Plus, he doesn’t appear to mind it when Benoit finds himself belting out in tone-deaf notes to showtunes while washing the dishes: The mark of a true companion.

At this rate, he’s probably not going to keep fostering Duke when things calm down -- he’s probably going to just straight up adopt him.

Stay safe & healthy!

[kessielrg]

A Quiet Place (Part 2)

Summary: Part 2 that i promised for this piece: here. Still inspired by a chaotic rp @chibi-mushroom and @animacreates are doing. This one takes place a month-ish after the last, and further dives into what trauma the foster siblings got themselves into beforehand.

Rating: K+ (for a precision f-strike on Brain’s part)

Word Count: 2,409 words

If you liked this story, please reblog!

---

They kept the blanket on the couch just for her. Not that she had any reliance on the purposely quiet nature of Oswald's hobby room. It was just… a good place to be, that's all. Oswald held true to his word- Ortensia really didn't bother him when he was in that room. The closest she ever got was a polite knock on the door to say that dinner was ready. He even held true on ignoring Sabrina whenever she went under the afghan blanket. Even on days like today when she sat up and simply had the blanket draped over her shoulders; he would come into the room, notice she was there with a little nod, then continue on as if she wasn't there. It was… nice. It came in handy when she decided to do her homework in the hobby room.

But she wasn't here to do her homework today. She was waiting for Oswald. Sabrina hugged the blanket as close as possible while she kicked her legs over the couch. Her face was between a scowl and upset. She and Brain had been with Ortensia and Oswald for nearly a month now- one of the longest times they'd ever stayed with a single family before. The absolute longest had been at six months. It was another nice couple, like Oswald and Ortensia, until they were expecting their first child. In the rush for the new baby, Sabrina started to cling to the caretakers. She didn't know a baby was a lot to care for. She just knew that her dependance on this one family who seemed so nice were suddenly drifting away. They didn't even bother to give her a second chance at being a good kid after she accidentally pushed their foster mother down the stairs. It was an accident. Honest. She only wanted to help arrange things for the baby too...

“One of these days I'll learn to say no to her.” Oswald grumbled as he entered the hobby room. It nearly gave Sabrina a start, having been too busy wondering just what happened to that particular foster family. “She and Ortensia. Make me talk to that rat. As if I'd ever-”

“I want to watch a Audrey Hepburn movie.”

It was almost funny watching him jump at her voice. Then again, it probably was rather surprising that she wanted to have a conversation with him- even if it was just a request to watch a movie. But there was a glint of determination in her eye. Oswald noticed it and nearly tossed his trouble out the window. This kid needed that attention at the moment.

“Alright.” he agreed. He went over to the bookshelf holding the VHS tapes as he asked, “What are you in the mood for? Funny Face? Love in the Afternoon? Charade?”

“I want to watch Sabrina.”

Oswald cocked an eyebrow as he pulled it from the shelf. “I thought you hated that one?”

“I do. A lot.” she agreed, rather prudently. “But I wanna watch it anyway.”

“Alright then.” her caretaker laughed. “If you're so sure, we'll watch Sabrina, Sabrina.”

The child gave a rather smug grin as he came back over. She was rather pleased as he turned on the TV and got the movie ready. Oswald plunked himself on the couch with a grunt. He then eased into it with a long, well needed sigh.

“Can I lay on you?”

Oswald blinked. He looked over at Sabrina to see her give him the same glare she gave her schoolwork. It was a look of deep thought. Of experimenting. Of very harsh scrutinizing.

“Sure.” he agreed. “Can't guarantee I'm any good as a pillow, though. Do you mind?”

Sabrina shook her head, then nearly fell headfirst into his lap like she immediately passed out. Oswald would have thought that was the case before she carefully moved herself to face the TV.

“Comfy?” he jokingly asked. She gave a small nod, which only got another chuckle out of him. “Can I put my hand on your head? You didn't really leave me a good spot for it.”

“Don't braid my hair.” came the rather sharp answer.

“I won't.” he laughed in agreement.

Sabrina made herself a bit more comfortable before focusing on the movie. This one really wasn't her favorite. The title character, the one who shared her name, was a girl who was enamored with a guy whose family had hired her father as their chauffeur. That Sabrina loved David (the guy) so much that when she was sent to Paris to learn how to cook, she tried to kill herself. David's much older brother, Linus, found Sabrina and stopped her before she could go through with it. When the Sabrina in the movie came back from Paris, David was attracted to her because she looked like a woman. But Linus didn't want David to fall in love with Sabrina, he had his brother arranged to marry a sugar plantation heiress so he could produce a lot of sturdy plastics in their family's name. And so, he did something that our Sabrina found quite ridiculous; he tried to make the movie Sabrina fall in love with him instead. Suffice to say, it worked on both accounts. Sabrina fell in love with Linus, and Linus fell in love with Sabrina. In the end, they were on a one-way cruise boat going to Paris, happy and in love.

If our Sabrina had her way, that movie would have gone very differently. The first change would have been when David decided he liked movie Sabrina because she looked pretty now. Instead of going along with him finally liking her, our Sabrina would have pranked him. She would have made him work for her affection after spending most of their lives pretending she didn't exist. And when Linus tried to sway her away from David? Our Sabrina would have come clean. She would have admitted that she was just messing with David. Perhaps she still loved him, maybe not. Either way, she could still fall in love with Linus, but it would have been over a mutual dislike for how dumb David was.

There were some funny lines in the movie, though. Our Sabrina couldn't deny that. One of the ones she enjoyed was coming up right about now. It was when movie Sabrina was in Paris, and her father was reading a letter he had gotten from her during breakfast.

“What about David? What'd she say about David?” the cook happily asked as she made something in the background.

“Not a word.” the father said as he went through the letter.

“That's good.” the butler nodded as he took a bite from his toast.

“No, wait a minute,” the father then said. “Here's something. 'I don't think of David very much anymore.'”

“That's good.” a maid at the kitchen table nodded.

“'Except at night.'”

“That's bad.” the butler frowned, taking another bite.

“'I decided to be sensible the other day, and tore up David's picture.'”

“That's good.” the bartender nodded as he was washing a glass at the sink.

“'Could you please airmail me some scotch tape.'”

“That's bad.” the cook dismally noted.

Our Sabrina couldn't help her little snicker. She liked the way the actors bounced off each other into perfect comedic timing. Oswald noticed it and gave a smirk of his own.

“You're a good kid.” he idly noted, giving her hair a gentle pat.

The child shrank. “No I'm not.”

“You are, and you deserve the world.”

“Stop.” the child desperately begged, even sitting up to be at his eye level. “I don't want you to talk like that. I don't want you to ever talk like that. Bad things always happen to the people that do.”

Oswald just looked at her for a moment. “Like what?” he asked, trying to play it off as a joke. But her face… It was too serious. Too… terrified.

“They get mean.” she insisted. “They say that they care, but then they decide they don't want you anymore. You try to defend your brother, and you get yelled at instead. Or… or maybe they just wanted your brother, so they're mean to you every time he's not looking. And he doesn't always know. He just says that you're just scared, and exaggerating, and… and…!”

“Sabrina,” Oswald said, interrupting her and even gently taking her by the shoulders. Even if he didn't have a strong grip on her, she still tried to struggle out of it. “Sabrina, listen to me. Ortensia and I will never do that to you. To both of you. You have my absolute word.”

The child violently shook her head. “No!” she cried before breaking free of his hold. She hid herself in a corner of the couch, blanket over her head, and refused to budge. In her desperation, she even shouted at him, “I don't exist! I'm under the blanket and I don't exist now!”

He wasn't going to lie, Oswald almost broke that one ounce of trust she had in him. But he couldn’t. Instead, he tried to relax in his seat again and tried to focus on the movie. It was hard when all he wanted to do was give that little girl a hug.

The movie now had switched back to what the heroine was during in Paris. She was in her second class where they were learning how to make souffle. The instructor was shrewd- he had something negative to say about every student’s effort. Once he told movie Sabrina that her souffle was ‘too low’, the titular girl went off to the side with an older student. This student was a character only used to justify a dress movie Sabrina would wear later, and Oswald knew that his Sabrina preferred the chemistry between these two than movie Sabrina and Linus.

“I don't know what happened.” movie Sabrina sighed as the two of them placed their souffles on the table.

“I'll tell you what happened, dear.” the older student laughed. “You forgot to turn on the oven.”

Movie Sabrina’s face went into one of disappointment as she let out a sullen, “Oh!”

“I've been watching you for a long time, mademoiselle.” the older student admitted. “Your mind has not been on the cooking. Your mind has been elsewhere. You're in love, and I would venture to one step further that you are unhappily in love.”

“Does it show?” movie Sabrina asked, casting her gaze down.

“Very clearly. A woman happily in love, she burns the souffle. A woman unhappily in love, she forgets to turn on the oven.”

Oswald took a look back at Sabrina. Even under all of the covers, you could see how tightly she had tensed up. All he could think was, ‘Oh, kid…’ and really wish he could have gotten to these two siblings sooner. He didn’t leave her while the movie still played. When it ended, he got up to rewind the tape and carefully made his way back to the shelf to put it away. Never once did his Sabrina move. He hoped she had gone to sleep instead of still being catanoic. At least he knew he had the heart for this parenting thing; people who didn’t care wouldn’t have the insatiable urge to cuddle that poor kid, kiss her forehead, and promise her the world so long as they lived. Tell her the lies you always told kids when they were sad- it would get better, the world’s brighter than this, sticks and stones may break your bones but words will never hurt you.

Would they even work on her? He had severe doubts about it after today.

“I might have dinner up here tonight,” he said out loud. It wasn’t directed toward little Sabrina, but it was a habit to communicate his intentions when he left the hobby room while she was still there. “I’ve really been meaning to work on that blasted clock all week.”

No response from the lump on the couch. He didn’t know if that was a good thing, or a bad one.

Again, resisting the urge to just hold the child and never letting go, Oswald let out a small sigh as he headed on out. He gently closed the door behind him, then started to make his way to the living room. Finding that Blaine was relaxing on the living room sofa was a small relief. He sure did look comfortable- back against the armrest, feet up on the sofa, and laptop balanced on his knees.

“Hey you,” Oswald teased, “No making scam sites until you have your own bank account. I won’t let you trace that stuff back to me.”

Like a true teenager, Blaine just slowly lulled his head over to look at his caretaker. A smirk was etched on his face in seeing Oswald there.

“I’m a renegade foster kid,” he said in delight, “I already have my own bank account. Those poor suckers think I’m 28, and Sabi’s a college student.”

“Going for a bachelor's, then?”

“Master’s actually.”

“Ah.” Oswald snorted. But the thought of their futures made him frown. “Blaine, I've got a question.”

“Fire way.”

“Do you still have the number of your case worker?”

“Sure do. Got it on speed dial.” There was a pause, then the boy asked in a rather defensive tone, “Why?”

To this, Oswald nervously rubbed the back of his neck. It was only now dawning on him how terrifying the request would sound to these kids. So he tried his best to lighten the situation a bit by saying, “Do you think there's a nice way to ask if I murder your previous foster parents? They've got a lot to answer for.”

Turns out, Blaine's glare was just as ice cold as Sabrina's.

“You don’t need the case worker to tell you that.” Blaine darkly informed Oswald. “I can tell you exactly who decided to gaslight Sabi in a heartbeat. Among others.”

“I hate that you know what the word is…” Oswald mumbled under his breath as he rubbed the back of his neck. Blaine cocked an eyebrow at him in response.

“You really are a good one.” he decided with a click of his tongue. He turned his attention back to his laptop before adding in a dark voice, “Don't fuck it up.”

And Oswald had no intention of doing so- not over his dead body.

[girlofmanyfandoms]

Forbidden Spicy Gatorade Chronicles Chapter One

A/n: Ok, so the cult is getting stronger by the minute so if you haven’t been introduced yet, don’t be offended! I’ll try to go through everyone and introduce you in the next chapter. Erica (@the-never-ending-void) has asked not to be included in this fic.

Key:

Tater - @a-lonely-tatertot 

Lynn - @lesbilynnette

Gray - @silver-snow

Lilah - @tribblemakingalicorn

Cadence - me

Ivy - @imaramennoodle

Molly - @molly-sencen

Farris - @everyonehasthoughts

Speens - @an-absolute-travesty

Holes - @holesinmyfalseconfidence

Connor - @linhammon-roll-bromance101

Panda - @worldwidepandamonium

Meg - @ultralazycreatorfan

Word count: 2,382

Warnings: If you’re reading this, you already know what’s about to pop off

Lilah poked Cadence’s shoulder who promptly rolled over. Lilah poked her several more times, a bit more aggressively. Grumbling Cadence sat up quickly and smacked her head on the top of the bunk bed. She sighed, rubbing her forehead. Her eyes slowly adjusted to her surroundings, taking in the strangely black, purple, and gold aesthetic room.

“Why’d you wake me up?”

“You got a notification,” Lilah said, eyes wide open, handing her the phone, slowly walking out of their shared room.

Cadence furrowed her brows, unlocking the phone before calling out to her roommate. “Wait, how long have you been up?”

“OREOS!” she called back. “Where are the keys?”

“On the kitchen counter,” Cadence replied, checking her emails. 1 unread message from Gray, the AI developer who she made small talk with during lunch breaks.

Dear Cadence,

Good evening! There’s a new play coming out on Mainstreet, called The Facade, and I was approached by the team to create a promotional piece. I was hoping you could help, and we would split the rewards 50/50. The play is about a murder crime, which is plotted out in a series of intricate riddles. The plot twist: the lead detective was the murderer, and had been delaying her trial while she was pretending to gather evidence, and stealing from a suspect to gain enough money to flee. And her second in command was funding the plots without knowing that her boss was the mastermind behind it all.

Ok, now that my boss has read above the cut we can talk freely. The offer is real, and I WOULD like to split it 50/50, I just can’t stand talking all formal, y’know? Anyway, since you said you do animations and stuff as a side gig, I thought maybe you could make the animations, and I’ll edit and do the social networking? Idk, I’m just spitballing here, let me know what you think.

Also, Lilah directed me towards this email, she’s really good at tracking people down.

Sorry if I made any spelling mistakes, I haven’t slept in weeks,

Gray

“Huh,” Cadence huffed, glancing at the clock. 3 AM. She had time. So, grabbing her IPad, she opened Procreate and got to work. The Facade. Sounds interesting enough. But what to draw? A lock perhaps? A silhouette of the main character? Before she could decide, her phone buzzed again, a voice recording this time, from Lilah.

“Hey, so I just ran into two of the actresses from The Facade and they said they want to talk to you about it so you can create a better promotional vid, meet me at the local library, k bye.”

Cadence wished on a shooting star that at least an hour had passed by so the buses would be running. But how wrong she was. It was 3 AM. It was raining. And the library was at least a mile away.

“This should be fun,” she mumbled, grabbing her set of keys, her IPad, and a raincoat before jogging the mile it took to get to the library.

_______

By the time Cadence arrived her hair was drenched and she was so out of breath and tired she thought she was going to pass out. She looked for any sign of her roommate, but she was nowhere to be found. Instead, she saw three people sitting at a table chatting freely and crying laughing. The librarian wasn’t fazed in the slightest. On the contrary, they seemed to be enjoying it, leaning over the library’s registry system, talking with them. Quickly Googling “The Facade,” Cadence confirmed that the two ladies were the actresses from the play. The other one offered occasional comments, mostly just watching the occurrences that went on. Social anxiety kicked in and told her to run in the other direction, but she really needed the money. She forced herself to approach them.

“Hey, I’m Cadence,” I introduce myself nervously. “Lilah said you wanted to speak to me about promoting your play?”

“Cadence! Lilah mentioned your animations, and we thought it’d be a new, eye-catching way to get our work out there,” the first one chirped. “I’m Molly, by the way. I play the detective’s second in command.”

“And I’m Ivy,” the other one greeted. “I play the lead.”

Cadence expected the third person to introduce themself next, but the librarian took the initiative. “Hello, fellow human, you may address me as SPEENS, I accept liver sacrifices.”

“They do that all the time,” the third person assured her. “Tater, by the way. I’m not in the play, I’m just working on a novel with Molly. We met up here to talk to good ‘ol Speens when these bit-”

“Language,” Molly warned.

“When these lovely individuals,” Tater corrected, “decided to make this a research sesh for the book. As if we needed more work. I’m free to fly wherever the wind takes me.”

“Amen to that, sibling,” Speens responded solemnly, pulling five wine glasses and vodka out from under the desk like a bartender. Cadence looked confused, but not against it. “Say, where’s the rest of the crew? Lynn, Gray, Farris, and the lot of them?”

“Farris doesn’t work on the set,” Ivy reminded her. “They’re an archaeologist. Holes makes the sets for us.”

Speens wrinkled their nose, seemingly in disgust. “And the others?”

“Well, if you can take a break, we can meet up with them at the theatre. Even Farris, since I heard their last trip was a bust,” Molly offered.

Without a second thought, Speens put up a sign that read “The Librarian is Out.”

“Do they-”

“All the time,” Ivy nodded. “It’s kinda their thing.”

“But, yeah, Farris and Connor tend to hang around the set,” Molly explained. “They don’t bother anyone, no one bothers them. They’re a bit older, kinda like the authority figures of the group.”

“If authority figures would let you make a dumba-”

“Tater,” Ivy nudged.

Tater changed their wording. “-unwise move in order to see what would happen.”

“They’re responsible for us without being responsible for us, if that makes sense,” Ivy commented. “Let’s get going though, before someone blows something up.” She shot a sideways glance at Speens, who put a hand up in surrender.

________

Ivy swung open the doors to the theatre and immediately had to duck for cover. “What the HELL, Connor?”

They were holding onto some theatre seats, zooming back and forth the row on rollerblades, occasionally losing balance and having to sit down. After a particularly messy turn-around, they decided to crawl over to the red carpeted steps and laid there for a moment. Farris was perched in a seat a row down, calming watching as Connor seemed to be having an existential crisis. Upon seeing Tater and Cadence, Farris got up, carefully stepping around Connor. “New kids?”

“Farris, this is Tater, and that’s Cadence,” Ivy helped. “They’re helping us promote the play.”

“Congratulations, you’re adopted,” they vowed, though Tater looked confused. “What? I don’t make the rules. Oh, wait, I’m supposed to be the responsible one…. Ok, so I make the rules, but they can be bent if the alternative’s interesting enough. Right, Connor?”

“Uh huh,” he called from the floor tiredly. If he hadn’t spoken, he would have been deemed dead.

“Lynn and the rest of the gang are in the back,” Farris informed them, pulling a skateboard from under their seat and helping Connor stand. Connor’s rollerblades flailed a bit as he struggled to get up, but his arm was slung around Farris’s shoulder, supporting him.

“DO A KICKFLIP,” Connor prompted, his words slurred.

“Are you kidding, I haven’t skateboarded since I was six, I need an actual skate park to practice that,” Farris recounted. “And how drunk are you?”

“Yes,” he responded, giggling in a hiccupy way. “Does anyone have more vodka?”

“I got you fam,” Speens said, pulling out a suitcase of alcohol from thin air.

“Anyways,” Ivy interjected, trying to get the conversation back on track. “I’ll go get the others, wait here.”

Ivy returned with Gray, Lynn, Holes, Panda, and Meg, and introduced them accordingly. “Gray works on the special effects, Lynn designed everyone’s costumes, Holes makes the set, Panda is a theatre critic, and Meg is our concept artist.”

“So, other than animation, is there anything else you bring to the table?” Molly asked.

“Well, I do glass art,” Cadence supplied. “It’s probably not relevant, but when it’s still really hot and glowy, which is when you can shape it, it looks like it would make a good snack. Hell, it almost looks like Gatorade. I can show a picture if you’d like.”

Cadence took her phone out and everyone crowded around to see.

“More like Powerade, Gatorade doesn’t come in that kind of blue,” Speens added.

“F O R B I D D E N S P I C Y G A T O R A D E,” Connor yelled, startling Farris.

“NO,” Holes countered, clearly distressed. “Do NOT drink molten glass. You’d die!”

“You call it death, I call it adventure,” Molly smirked. “I’m here for it. C’mon Holes, live a little.”

“Sis, how have you made it to adulthood thinking like that?” Lynn questioned, looking a bit scared.

“And I know how to live, I’m living right now!” Holes countered.

“Sure you are, nerd.” Molly rolled her eyes. “And how many near death experiences have you had, huh?”

“Near death- okay, first of all, I am not a nerd-”

“You kinda are,” Tater mumbled. Holes gasped, putting a hand over her heart as if they were betrayed. “What? You are. You make a living off of reading books.”

“Used to, friend,” Holes clarified. “I’m a freelance artist now. I picked up this gig because of these fools. And good thing too, because now you’re about to poison yourselves! Second of all, um, none?! How many have you had?”

Molly clicked her tongue in disappointment. “Five. Blended corn, acorns, eating soap, eating paper, and an intense game of dodgeball. I haven’t even peaked with these experiences yet.”

“Immortal until proven mortal,” Connor finished for her.

Meg stood next to Molly and held her shoulders. “This girl, she’s going places.”

“Meg, not you, too, I swear to god-”

“sLuRp,” Ivy joined in, grinning from ear to ear.

Holes was getting hysterical. “What the actual hell is going on? Lynn, help me out here.”

“The Gatorade is Forbidden for a reason, kids,” Lynn tried to reason.

Gray stood up with a mischievous glint in their eyes. “Where can we get it?”

“From the crunchy forbidden chocolate powder, of course,” Connor chimed in. Panda gave him a high-five while Holes became paler and paler from the cult forming in front of their eyes.

“This one speaks the truth,” Panda shrugged.

“Ok, what even is crunchy forbidden chocolate powder?”

“Sand, duh,” Connor said matter of factly. “Add some vodka, a martini, and some olives, and you got one heck of a slushie.”

“So that means there must be Forbidden Chewy Lettuce and Flavoured Forbidden Chewy Lettuce,” Tater went on. “Grass and flower petals. Cursed, but not wrong.”

“Ooh, and crackle air can be limestones and sodium carbonate, pies are dirt, bread is wood, and hard candy is metal,” Panda proclaimed.

“Fidget spinners are Forbidden Bagels, too,” Connor helped. “I should know, I tried the other day and cut my lip.”

Farris ignored the last part of Connor’s rant. “The variety pack, I like the sound of that.”

“Farris you’re supposed to look after us and you’re condoning this?!” Holes shouted.

Farris mounted his skateboard. “I’m not condoning anything. I’m enabling and hyping them up without joining in. That’s some big brain stuff.”

“This is why they control the brain cell,” Ivy nodded. “WAIT, ARE MY CHICKEN NUGGETS BURNING?!”

“Ives, you literally set a timer on the microwave backstage, you’re fine,” Tater reassured Ivy, holding her from running to check on her meal.

“Oh, like you know anything about microwaves,” Ivy argued. “You microwave ice cream.”

“It takes too long to soften, and I’m impatient,” Tater defended, turning to address Holes. “And it is eaten with a spoon.”

“Do not start this debate again- you know what, Panda, get ice cream from the mini-fridge, we’re settling this here and now,” Holes demanded.

“I think the real question is why is ice cream so hard,” Speens mentioned as Panda brought a tub of Haagen Daz ice cream. Holes used a fork to attempt to chisel out part of the snack. It wasn’t very successful.

“I think that’s just how Haagen Daz works,” Cadence observed.

Holes saw this as an opportunity to gain some momentum in the argument. “Not just this brand! All ice cream works like that!!!”

“No,” Panda objected. “Not Breyer’s. That stuff is always just right when you need it. Hashtag not sponsored.”

“Did you just break the fourth wall?” Lynn asked. “You know what, I don’t wanna know, just for the love of all that is good in this world please don’t drink the Forbidden Spicy Gatorade.”

“Too late,” Cadence said. “It’s easily accessible. Also, I’m calling E so we can recruit her.”

“Holes, I know you’re hiding it from us,” Molly speculated.

“What are you talking-”

“You’re keeping the Forbidden Spicy Gatorade all to yourself because you know of its power and you want it all to yourself.”

“I don’t HAVE the Gatorade, and I’m explicitly telling you it’s going to kill you if you drink it!”

As the bickering went on, Lynn slipped off to the vacant staff lounge to pull out her phone. There had to be a supplier somewhere who would give them this. She searched for a few minutes, and, after a few dead ends, she finally found an investor. “Cha-ching. Forbidden Incorporated is in business,” Lynn smiled to herself.

“Forbidden Incorporated, eh?” Farris asked from the doorway. Lynn froze and cursed herself for forgetting to lock the door. Now Farris knew of her plans. “Tell you what, I’ll keep your secret under one condition: We split the money 50/50, and get equal control over the decisions. So, deal?”

Lynn hesitated. She wasn’t sure she could trust Farris, but seeing as this was the only way to stop Holes from knowing just yet, she had no other choice. “Deal.”

_______

A/n: So that was fun and took entirely too long to write. I hope you enjoyed it and if you’re in the cult and I didn’t include you, reblog this and I’ll make a list. The next chapter might focus on a smaller group bc there are like thirteen characters here and I’m tired. Peace out!