#me after using them once(1) to clean up code: oh

[autumnday19]

My opinion on enums swung so fast you'd think I'd got whiplash

[womanofwords]

Everybody's Favourite (Part 1)

Everything turned upside-down when the principal pulled you out of class when you were seven years old. You'd been colouring nicely when she came in.

"Y/N, I'd like to talk to you," she said. "Could you come with me?"

"Have I done something wrong?" you asked.

"No, dear. Just get your stuff."

You collected your things and went with her, where a police officer was waiting. "Here's Y/N, officer," she said to him. That was when you learned, in a haze of horror, that your dear mother had died while you were colouring in class without a care in the world. Car accident.

"Not to worry, she made arrangements as to who would look after you in the event of this happening," the police officer said. "Your biological father . . . Bruce Wayne."

So off you went to your new home, away from your friends and old neighbourhood and everything you'd ever known, and towards the figure known as Bruce Wayne.

The first thing you noticed about your father was that he was, obviously, very rich. All his cars were the fancy ones you used to stare at with your mom when you would walk together.

When you arrived, you had all sorts of questions for your father. "How did you meet my mother? Why didn't you talk to me before this? Did you like spending time with her?"

"I'm rather busy, Y/N. I'll show you to your room," Bruce said, escorting you to a guest bedroom. "We can decorate it later."

Later never came.

After a few weeks, you met his other kids, Dick, Jason, Tim, Barbara, Cass, and Stephanie. They all looked so cool, like teenagers from a movie. But they always had to 'do stuff'.

"What kind of stuff?" you asked.

"They're a part of scholarships for gifted students," Bruce said, before any of them could say anything. "I happen to be privately tutoring them."

"Oh. So you spend time with them because they're talented?"

"You could put it that way."

That revelation lit a fire underneath you. If your father wanted talented kids, then you would have to be a talented kid.

In everything you could get your hands on.

You became a polyglot, devouring different languages like nobody's business. You took part in gymnastics, just like Dick, and also track. You got straight As in everything, forcing yourself to study night after night. You read the same classic books Jason loved so you could (hopefully) have something to bond with him over. You took some coding classes so you had something to talk about with Tim.

Alfred became a consistent source of comfort, bringing you food and making sure that you didn't over work yourself. He came to every event you had, loyally videotaping it for future viewing.

Nobody cared to look at the tapes. Nobody watched you collect your awards for fastest times, or graduate early as valedictorian. Nobody listened to your headmaster sing your praises as he listed your various scholastic accomplishments.

Damian was the worst. The moment he met you, it was clear that he would hate you until he died. He looked at you with such disgust, such contempt for your existence. Once, he cornered you with a katana that he held so close to your neck that you were cut. Another time, he sicced Titus onto you, leading to a nasty bite mark on your arms when you put them up to defend yourself.

"Titus mauling you would have been an improvement to the Wayne bloodline," he sneered, as you bawled your eyes out. "When are you going to get it through your simple-minded skull that we don't care what happens to you? It's annoying to hear you chatter to us and make conversation about being head of your class and breaking sports records. We all scoff about it when we're on patrol."

Your throat went dry. "Patrol?"

"Of course. Father, Dick, Jason, Stephanie, and myself all have our own alter egos. I am by my father's side cleaning the streets of scumbags as Batman and Robin while you are trying to be top of your stupid little class." He punched you in the stomach, hard. "Honestly, it's a relief to get away from you and your nauseating neediness."

Alfred came to console you after the fact, but he wouldn't hear a word against Damian for hurting you, or Bruce for letting it happen. "Master Damian has had a . . . difficult life, Y/N," he said. "And Bruce's childhood was by no means easy."

You gave up on your family after that. Nobody really wanted you, and Damian actively hated you.

You were nobody's favourite.

Part 1 <- You are here

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

[azialways]

i hate to love you

“i love you like id love to see you dead.”

serial killer!reader x canon typical ronin

cw: murder, canon typical violence and gore, swearing, sexual tension, suggestive content

clearly marked 18 plus content, warning given plus 🫀 marked

sex organs nonspecific

3.2k words

Blood on their hands, guts across the floor…it was beautiful. Another job well done.

“The media would eat this up” Y/N thought to themself. Maybe even steal the spotlight from that annoying bitch they called “The Butcher.” The Butcher and Y/N, or as the media called them “The Shredder,” had never officially met. Sure, they were constantly battling for the front page on the tabloids, but they never actually talked or met.

He and they were actually similar in their kills, they were bloody, gorey, and messy. Messy in the sense that there constantly was gore all over the scene. But Y/N’s difference? They would shred the body up into tiny pieces and leave the head untouched. Imagine it, a shriveled and sliced up body with guts leaking out and shit, but the head separated and perfectly clean. Gross, right? It was just how they liked it.

After another night of successful slashing, Y/N went home to clean up. Having blood, guts and body matter wasn’t the nicest thing to have on your body, so a shower was warranted. They forgot how nice it was, the feeling of being clean. It was almost as nice as the kill, almost. The spray of the water, the smell of their soap and shampoo, it was all nice. Slash season was back up again, so it was a constant rinse and repeat of kill shower kill shower, but this time Y/N had to take honest time, since there was so much on them.

Once they were out of the shower, they dried off, put some PJs on and sat on their desk. They were scrolling through the internet when they got a dm on the dark web from someone they didn’t know.

Unknown 9:48PM

Hey! Saw your profile and thought you’d be a lovely addition to our group! Here’s the link, and the code ^^

no rush whatsoever, and i promise this isn’t some weird spam thing 🤍🤍

1 link attached

code: k!llerch8t_b00t.mango

Y/N

uh who ru? sorry lmao i just am kinda suspiciousssss

Unknown

you’ll figure out soon enough! promise i’m not weird, just introducing you to a community i think you’ll like 🤍🤍

Huh. Weird. Maybe they’ll try it for the shits and giggles. Y/N clicked the link, and their IP grabber blocker warns that the link tried to grab it. Ha. Nice try.

Y/N 10:01 PM

an IP grabber? Really? Real rookie.

Unknown

what? there’s an IP grabber??

Ugh that dumbass. Sorry! I’ll deactivate it.

Then there was a hold between the conversation until she claimed she turned it off. So they checked, and there was no warning this time, so they joined. First think Y/N saw, a server named “SLAUGHTERHOUSE_LOSERS_v.4.4.4.mango.” interesting.

then a message in the main chat

#main

Angelic: welcome to our server @ y/n

hitmeuppp: oh shit! new person alert!

goreboy: angel who Did you invite

Angelic: they’ll tell! why don’t you start getting roles and introducing yourself!

y/n: hold on, Angel. youre the one who invited me?

Angelic: yep!

y/n: so what is this?

hitmeuppp: a server for the coolest people on the planet 😼😼

Angelic: Haha, Misaki said it! It’s a server for serial killers, and I figured you’d be interested in meeting more of us.

What did she mean by “more of us.” Did she know who they were???

y/n: wdym…do you like…know who i am?

Angelic: yep! I know who and what you are 🤍

Angelic: but don’t worry! we’re all the same, this isn’t some prank or sting operation

Okay. That’s interesting. A serial killer server? This has gotta be a joke, right? Y/N checked the roles, and clicked the ones that applied. Then saw the intros, which had some ACTUAL serial killer names. They had to ask.

#main

y/n: @Eviscerator1990 wait are you actually the fucking Sunset Slasher?

Eviscerator1990: Yes. I am.

y/n: no fucking way. they never caught you. i’m like, a huge fan.

Eviscerator1990: Nice To Meet A Fan Of Mine. Who Are You?

y/n: you’ll see in intros :p

#introductions

y/n: hey! i’m y/n aka The Shredder 🕺 uhh i go by (your pronouns), i killed quite a few ppl, uh you might’ve heard of me? anyways hope we get along cuz if not ill find you /j

#main 1 server ping!

goreboy: seriously @y/n you’re The fucking Shredder?

y/n: uh yeah, what about it?

goreboy: well well Well, guess i’ve Finally met my biggest Rival.

y/n: i’m not sure i follow

y/n: oh wait yes i do. you’re the Butcher huh?

goreboy: bingo darling. the One and Only.

Angelic: i take it you two know each other?

y/n: something like that…

goreboy: they’re always taking my spot on the front page of the tabloids.

y/n: sucks to suck, goreboy.

y/n: what an edgy ass username anyways. 2020 is calling and they want their account back.

goreboy: shut up Dipshit or i’ll shred You Myself

y/n: woah woah woah, no need to get so feisty. take me out on a date first 🙄

goreboy: i’m sure you and My crowbar would Make just Fine dates.

hitmeuppp: alright guys let’s be nice, as much as i love the drama.

Then they got a ping from private messages.

goreboy would like to send you a message!

Y/N accepted

goreboy

so, you’re actually The Slasher? or are you Some wannabe?

y/n: would Angel invite me if I wasn’t?

goreboy: true. you got any pics to prove it?

y/n: what? do you need something to jerk off to at night?

goreboy: heh. you’re cute. i got the Tabloids for that, Sweetheart.

goreboy: regardless. You and I have been at it for a while, huh? Think it’s time we finally see what the other looks like?

y/n: one file attatched {selfie of Y/N standing over a slashed up body with the head loose}

y/n: that good enough for ya?

goreboy: plenty, darling.

Then Y/N turned off their PC, tucking into bed for the night. The night was generally quiet, dreamless, nothing abnormal. But for some reason, they woke up earlier than usual. They checked the time, 5am. They were bored, so they sat on their chair and launched Netflix. It was time to watch Heathers again, it was a comfort movie, regardless of how not comforting it can be.

Unfortunately, goreboy would not let down. He was awake too, and he kept spamming them every 10 minutes or so, so eventually they paused the movie and switched tabs. There was 20 unread messages and 2 missed calls.

goreboy

goreboy: respond. I know you’re not Busy.

goreboy: aw look, your news Page is up!

goreboy: a link attached: The Slasher strikes Again!

y/n: aw you’re stalking my tabloid? you’re obsessed.

y/n: what do you want i'm watching Heathers.

goreboy: good movie. 10/10 would Recommend.

goreboy: now get on call.

y/n: no.

goreboy: yes.

y/n: no. heathers is more important.

goreboy: while I typically would Agree with That statement. no.

y/n: you’re just gonna spam me til I respond, won’t you.

goreboy: pretty much.

y/n: fuck you.

goreboy: you can try.

goreboy wants to video chat

They clicked yes, and the call loaded up. He wasn’t what Y/N thought he’d look like. He’s got burgundy hair, little long but not too long. He wore a sweater and a beanie with little devil horns, a shit ton of jewelry and a cocky ass smirk.

“well well well, we finally meet.” He spoke. God, he even partially sounded like a 2020 kid.

“God you even sound like a 2020 kid. You sound so forced.” They chuckled, finding something to poke fun at.

“I mean…kinda is. That’s what happens when you never do proper voice training and just take illegal man drugs from an alleyway.” He shrugged, and it took a second to realize what he meant by that.

“what how do you-OHHHH. I see.” You nodded. He was actually pretty cis passing, wouldn’t have guessed that he was trans unless they saw him naked or something. not that they wanted to but…fuck now they have the picture in their head. Their face was definitely red, they could feel it.

“What’s with the blush, darling?” He teased.

“What’s circling that depraved little brain of yours.”

“Absolutely nothing.”

“Definitely not nothing if you’re blushing like crazy.”

“shut up.”

“make me.” He responded, leaning back in his chair.

That got to them. That plus the stupid smirk on his face? God he was irritating.

“maybe I should.” They muttered, but it was loud enough for the mic to pick up.

“what was that?” He teased.

“i should shut you up. maybe with my knife. Plunge it into your chest, and rip your heart out. How bout that, Ronin.” They quickly responded.

“Aw, how romantic.” He responded, looking at them teasingly.

“Shut up.” They then hung up. They needed another kill. It was 5am, there weren’t many people to kill, so maybe they’d stay nearby, incase the light came up and ruined their cover. They stayed close, the alley three streets down, and there was somebody there. Ugh their outfit was hideous, that outfit deserved death. So they got behind, and dragged him away from the opening and stabbed him in the throat, then the chest. Once he was down, they ripped his chest open and cut his organs out, more blood pooling all over. They snapped a picture for Ronin on their hidden camera app, then left him there. They returned to their place swiftly, scrambling up the stairs and threw their clothes into the sink and stepped into the shower.

Once they were clean, they plopped down into their chair, opening the chat between them and Ronin, sending the photo with the caption;

y/n: one photo attached.

y/n: this is what you do to me.

goreboy: i kill You? i rip your Guts out? quite the Cryptic message, y/n.

y/n: you make me wanna kill someone, Ronin.

goreboy: awh, cute.

goreboy: wanna kill Someone together?

goreboy: butcher/slasher Collab?

y/n: thought you despised me.

goreboy: i just Thought we could Share the tabloids This time.

y/n: not a horrible idea. you still piss me off though.

goreboy: i’m sure I do, Darling.

goreboy: tonight. 9pm. purgatory. be there or i’ll find you myself.

y/n: i’d like to see you try. but not today, i’ll be there ;)

goreboy: good. first date lookin Fun asf.

y/n: don’t get ahead of yourself, hon.

goreboy: how can i Not when it’s Someone as gorgeous As you?

y/n: oh we’re flirting now?

y/n: see you in 15 hours, handsome.

They then shut off their PC, and turned to their closet. Ugh, what to wear on a murder date with your enemy? Black, obviously. Tight long sleeve? No, they need to be able to move. Maybe just keep it normal. Black hoodie, baggy sweater and pants with their boots.

TIME SKIP: 8:30 PM

They put on the clothes they set out, cargo pants, baggy tee and a hoodie. Then their weapon, the dagger their dad gave them, obviously not intended for this purpose but…oh well. They sheathed it and tucked it in their jacket pocket. They also put their gun in their pant pocket in case things went wrong. It had a silencer obviously. They then cleaned up a little, put some eyeliner on, black eyeshadow…and voila. They put the hoodie on and set out to the address he gave. It was kinda nonspecific, but he said “you’ll know.”

messages

Ronin

Ronin: you on Your way?

You: yep. eta 5 minutes.

Ronin: already waiting for you, darling.

Once they had arrived, it was obvious where to turn, and there it was. The place Ronin called Purgatory. They stepped in, and they suddenly felt being pulled back onto something, someone. They felt cold metal on their throat, a crowbar. Ha, typical. They just let it happen, they knew it was Ronin. Y/N then pushed under and away, holding their dagger to his throat.

“Should’ve known it was me, Ro. You’re smarter than that.” They spoke softly, still holding the dagger softly.

“I know, I just wanted to see how you’d react. and you passed, baby.” His voice was annoyingly hotter in person. Deeper than the mic he used made it to be.

“I see. Cmon genius, I see bait.” They pushed off, then waited for him.

“Right there.” He pointed out. “Go get em, Tiger.”

Y/N just chuckled, swiftly grabbing the person from behind and stabbing their throat so they couldn’t scream. Y/N shoved them onto the ground, looking at Ronin.

“you wanna start?” They muttered. He nodded, taking his crowbar and striking him right in the skull, then again, brain matter spewing out.

“can I rip him?” Y/N begged.

“Fine.” He sighed disappointedly. Y/N then got down and stabbed right in the chest and gutted him down, ripping him open like a fish. They then etched B+S on the heart, a mark of their collaboration.

The two took turns grossing up the body, and by the time they were done, there was barely any body left. Ronin cut the limbs off and Y/N skinned and gutted. There were intestines and kidneys and all other organs spread around like a gorey art display. It was the perfect scene of gore and depravity. Y/N looked at Ronin, who was very satisfied with their work.

“Congrats baby, we have officially had our first collaboration.” He chuckled evilly, taking in the sight.

“Guess so. It’s beautiful isn’t it.” He looked at them, then their lips…god he wanted to kiss them.

“I guess, you’re prettier”

“Ronin I-what?” They laughed softly at him, slapping his arm.

“Ugh for fucks sake, you’re not bad is what I’m saying.”

“Bad at what?” They asked cluelessly.

“Jesus fuck you’re clueless. Don’t make me spell it out, I think you’re hot, okay! I…want you.”

“I guess. It hurts me to say you’re not horrible either…you’re quite attractive to be honest.” They looked at him, and he just raised his eyebrow.

“You think so, huh?” He chuckled, walking towards them, backing them against the graffiti walls. “Well, I think you look good enough to eat. All covered in blood and gore, ugh. It’s sexy.” He muttered, leaning in, dropping his crowbar. He whispered in their ear.

“And I think you feel the same about me…don’t you Y/N?” He asked, but he knew the answer. The way your body reacted, pink cheeks, that hitch in your breathing when he got close…it told him everything he needed to know.

“y-yeah…you’re looking hot as fuck right now, Ro.” They mumbled, their speaking going soft as he kissed their neck. Soft curses escaped their lips as his canines sunk into the soft skin.

“Mmm you like this, don’t you.” He whispered, looking up at you like sin itself. “The way my teeth feel on your skin, giving you all my attention. you love it.” He teased, nibbling into that sensitive spot under your jaw.

“F-fuck Ronin, goddamn it…” They moaned softly.

“No god here baby…just me.” He teased Y/N relentlessly, ghosting touches, gentle kisses when Y/N wanted his teeth in their neck. He kissed their neck with softness and care, but bit into their collarbone and shoulder like he needed a taste to survive.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart, yeah?” He whispered, and when they didn’t oblige, he pulled their face to look at him.

“Fuck off.” They sassed, giving him a hard time.

“Fuck, you got such a damn mouth on you.” He spoke threateningly, then he tilted his head slightly and kissed them roughly. It wasn’t a battle of love or tenderness, no it was pure want. need. desire. There was nothing gentle about them, Y/N’s hands were around his neck and in his hair, his were on their waist, pulling them impossibly closer. His hips grinded against theirs, which elicited a soft moan from him, and fuck was it hot.

“Don’t hold back baby…let me hear ya” He mumbled against their lips before going back in. This time, Y/N was more vocal for him, the soft moans and whines every time he did something right, it was heaven to his ears. Heaven was never a place Ronin thought he’d see, but with them, he was their next frequent flier.

🫀NSFW STARTS HERE

He then dipped lower, slipping their shirt up and kissing down their chest…stomach, looking up at them, his eyes asking the question. They just nodded, so he undid their belt, and pulled their pants down, then underwear, then inhaled, looking up at them one more time before bringing his mouth down. His tongue and mouth worked miracles on them, their hand on his head forcing him closer, and the other was covering their mouth so that they didn’t cry out and get them caught.

“Don’t.” He spoke, bringing a hand up to pull their arm down. “Don’t cover your mouth, I wanna hear you. Every damn noise.” He then stuck a finger in, stretching them out.

“You want my fingers baby…hm?” He then put another in, earning a whine out of them as they nodded frantically. He then curled his fingers in, earning another whine, while his tongue still worked them. They were in heaven because of this man, the man that they had a tabloid war with…was at his knees for them.

They were done for. The feeling was addictive, they needed this more than everything…and fuck they were close.

“Ro…fuck i’m gonna cum. please-fuck.” They moaned, urging him to go further, but no, he withdrew his fingers and stood up. That earned a disappointed whine from them, which he quickly addressed.

“Uh uh, don’t give me the face. I just wanna be inside you when you cum…” He mumbled in their ear, then began undoing his belt and pants. He gave himself a few pumps before lining himself up and pushing in, he let out a soft groan.

“Oh fuck-fuck darling…so perfect-jesus christ…” He groaned, holding Y/Ns hips tight and pushing into them with a desperate pace that showed how much he needed them. He leaned in for a kiss while his hips thrusted into them…the two connected by a string of saliva when pulling away, just to pull them back in.

He kept his thrusts strong, and Y/N could feel the orgasm building up again.

“Ronin-fuck i’m gonna-“

“I know baby…me too.”

He panted, and within minutes the two came together, their moans mixed in a perfect harmony. He eventually pulled out and tucked himself back into his pants, then helping them get clothed. They were covered in bite marks, a fucked up reminder of the day, but Y/N wouldn’t have it otherwise.

“Just know you’ll feel it tomorrow.” He winked, and they stood up, feeling dizzy at first.

“We’ll see. Cmon, let’s get out before cops find us.”

And they walked away, hand in hand.

[bittersweetcreep]

Conception Final Red Luna! Darling x Yandere! Damian

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: 4 months has pasted living with the League of Assassins and Luna is about ready to pop and while everyone is getting ready for the babies arrival, Luna takes it upon herself to attempt to induce labor with the help of the internet.

WARNING: mentions of blood, water breaking, labor

Author's Note: Things to know before reading, Luna and Damian are both young adults in this time period who are now living with the League of Assassins. They both have an apartment-like area in the League to have their own space. Also a reminder that Luna is a mute who communicates through sign language and morse code I'll use °theses° when she's speaking, she also has a bell now to use as a way to call for help from across the room.

It was late into the night when suddenly a heavily pregnant Luna shot up with a jolt, Damian's eyes shot open as he rolled off the bed and onto the floor repeatedly saying. "I'm awake! I'm awake! Oof-" quickly getting on his knees, he continued with "I'm awake, is it time?" Luna paused then shook her head no laying back down, poor Damian could only slam his head into the bed.

32 Weeks Pregnant: Day 1

It was supposed to be a small walk as Luna read it can induce labor, but that "small walk" was no longer a small walk. So now here we are with a pregnant Luna waddling through the halls with surprising speed, and behind her was a frantic Damian. Somehow, Luna was able to sign where Damian could see. °JUST 5 MORE LAPS!° "YOU'VE BEEN WALKING FOR 9 HOURS! YOU NEED TO REST!" The (h/c) stubbornly signed °NO!°, while the chaos ensued, Talia stood on the sidelines with a glass of wine, watching both with amusement.

32 Weeks Pregnant: Day 2

Damian was in the bedroom folding baby clothes when he heard the ringing of a bell. Tossing whatever he had aside, he shouted a quick "I'M COMING" and ran down the hall. Once making it to the living room, Damian continued, "Is it time!? Luna!". The said (h/c) was on the yoga mat laying on her back, seeing her he ask. "Did the yoga work?" °I'm stuck. Could you help me up, please?° letting out a small chuckled the ravenette helped her up with an amused smile on his face. °I have no idea how others manage to do this.° "So far, we've tried pineapple, raspberry tea, spicy food, and so far, exercise what's next?" Without missing a beat, Luna signed °Sex.° dumbfounded Damian could only say, "What?" Taking off her shirt, she tossed it at him then walked to the bedroom while Damian just watched in surprise while saying "Oh why didn't we start with that one." Then hurriedly chased after her to the bedroom.

32 Weeks Pregnant: Day 3

A handful of the League's assassins were pushing a stretcher down the halls with great speed while Damian ran close by as it was Luna who was on that very stretcher having contractions. Once they arrived at the delivery room, Talia was waiting for them. Luna was pushed inside while Damian gave his mother a thumbs up. "Today's the day." Only for both to come out with a defeated °Today's not the day.°

While cleaning the blood off his blades from his latest mission, Damian senses his mother approaching. "Luna still having false labor?" "I know kids are supposed to test your patience, but I thought they would at least wait until they were out of the womb." The brunette chuckled while setting herself next to her son. "So Draco, Claude and Nyxel, huh? I must say I love those names, very unique and classy." Setting his blade aside with a fond smile, Damian spoke with affection. "Yeah, I'm really looking forward to meeting them. But for now, Luna wants you over for dinner. She's making her famous macaroni." Talia's mouth watered at the prospect of Luna's cooking, and who was she to deny good food. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go." The brunette was already out the door while Damian followed behind amused by her love for Luna's cooking, although it's not like he's one to talk either.

After a very delicious dinner, Damian gathered up the tableware and gave them to Talia to wash while Luna put the leftovers in the fridge. The silence between the three was comfortable, filled with a sense of home, something that gave the (h/c) peace. But that peace was shattered by a repetitive pain in her abdomen, to which her hand clenched at. This didn't go unnoticed by the others in the room. Both the mother and son duo rushed to her side, Talia was the first to ask. "Are you having contractions, sweetie?" Luna knew exactly what was happening. [thank you, google] °I'm in labor.° as if to confirm what she was saying, her water broke for everyone to hear. Everything happened so fast, Damian picked her up and made a mad dash to the delivery room with Talia at his heels making calls so everything was prepared for when they got there. They finally made it, and when Damian set her down, it was go time.

The delivery lasted 15 hours, which is to be expected for a first timer delivering triplets but oh boy it was a battle, with all the pain, tears and sweat Luna felt she was fighting for her life but when she heard all three cries and her babies were placed in her arms it was all worth it. Damian couldn't help but slightly tear up "Their so tiny." °And perfect.° placing a gentle kiss on her forehead Damian spoke with all the love he has. "Everything's perfect now. I love you." °I love us.°

[hedghost]

Hedge’s Official Ranking of the 24/25 WSL Kits That Literally Nobody Asked For - Home Edition

please please tell me your thoughts in the reblogs or tags!!! i love hearing other people’s critiques. this is the one time the woso community can all come together and complain about the same thing!

1.Liverpool

potentially a controversial opinion but this is Nice As Hell! i know a lot of people said the collars are ugly but like idk it’s kinda giving if you ask me. it’s bold, it’s a statement. i love retro. this is just a good kit. it’s doing bits without doing too much. simple, tasteful, plus a little subtle pizzazz with those jaunty ass stripes - werk it ladies!

plus this kit is made from recycled plastic bottles, nice job! save those turtles liverpool!

apparently the pattern spells out ynwa, which i’m totally Not seeing (maybe i misunderstood this). i’m getting a Y, and then like an H in there maybe? and then i’m just lost, so not sure you hit the mark with that one, but love you for trying! it’s a cool pattern regardless, so i’d maybe just ditch the whole symbolism jargon and stick with that. overall nice job guys - 9/10

bonus points for that prematch shirt, love the detailing on it very sexy top marks

2. Arsenal

sorry arsenal fans, this shit is ugly as fuckkkkk - i’m not even being biased or trying to start fights (for once) it’s just like so hideous. i didn’t really like last season’s but compared to this that was a masterpiece. it’s so PLAIN! the weird red splodge is like not flattering at all and the blue? what’s that all about? also i fucking hate the back it looks like a used period pad, so hopefully the numbers fix that.

praying for your sakes you get a nice third kit or something bc this is ass.

also i’m a HATER for minimalist badge designs. this cannon logo makes the shirt look like a uniform for a museum volunteer. don’t get me wrong - arsenal is not the only culprit. what has a good old crest ever done to you? why do we hate maximalism? why do we hate fun? - 4/10

3. Manchester City

now this is fine. it’s just fine. it’s objectively nice, but it’s also objectively boring! as! fuck! the solid blue is clean but a little too flat. something looks off. it’s missing something. idk it’s nice ig, but it also seems identical to last season? if i saw these pics with no context i’d literally think it was from this year, but that’s the case with most top tier clubs it seems. have some fun guys! push the boat out! where’s the whimsy? but yeah anyway it’s alright.

at least they tried with the sleeves. allegedly they have the manchester dialling code 0161 on them but i mean - do they? do they really? because it looks like a bus seat to me. city fans decide for yourself i guess, because i for one won’t be getting close enough to a city shirt to look

it’s also made from recycled waste textiles so yay again! probably made from all the city shirts people threw out after they all but fucked the title 🤭 - 7/10

4. Tottenham Hotspur

wow spurs this is nice. it’s just so clean, so crisp. my normal issue with spurs kits is their absolute undying commitment to being plain as fuck. they picked one colour, white - arguably the most boring colour of all, arguably even the total absence of colour - and stuck to it. this however? it’s simplicity done well. it’s still plain and simple, but in a gorgeous sexy way. those navy retro colourblock sleeves? stunning! the crispest white you’ve ever seen? stunning! the tiniest of sleeve embellishments? stunning! simplicity done well. it’s just so crispy. pleases my eye.

also huge respect to them for not jumping of the band wagon with the whole ‘every shirt must have ugly details with symbolic meaning we grasped at straws to come up with in order to do something new and edgy’. spurs said no! they said ‘oh this? yeah this is a football shirt. what does it mean? it means football shirt.’ thanks spurs, good job - 9.5/10

5. Crystal Palace

ummmm. now. hmm. uhh. what? this is, um, what? give me a second to get my thoughts in order. i don’t know what is happening here and i’m at a loss for words.

right. crystal palace. inaugural season in the wsl. making a statement. making a splash. right. here’s the thing. i’m always saying wsl kits are too boring. i’m always saying we want fun patterns and whimsy. i’m looking at this in genuine confusion because i actually do not know what is going on here. do i like it? not sure? do i hate it? also not sure?

i think i kind of like it? but i also kind of hate it? it’s insanely busy, it’s probably the most garish kit i’ve ever seen in my life. i think part of the problem is that the club doesn’t have a great colour palette to work from. it’s very bright. i do love the pattern of the eagle crest in the blue, that’s a huge win from me. it’s just those spray paint red splatters that’s throwing me off. it looks like they spent ages making a lovely blue eagle pattern and then remembered they needed red in there so just used the funky spray tools on microsoft paint to draw over the top. it’s giving shit cgi blood splatter in a low budget zombie film. it’s like the barcelona shirts if they were designed by a gcse art student on an acid trip.

the more i’m looking at it however, i’m kind of loving it? kinda camp i guess. this one could be a grower. i’m still confused. at least they’ll make a splash in the wsl - 6/10

6. Manchester United

you’d think by now that i would have learnt to not get my hopes up with this club. remember the long long list of disappointments from yanited this season that i never shut up about? yeah, add this kit to that list.

listen it’s not awful. it’s not ugly, it’s not an eyesore. at the very least, it’s classic united. but it’s just so! bloody! dull! i’m literally falling asleep looking at it. it’s a t-shirt. its literally just a t-shirt. the problem is they set the bar too high last year, with that beautiful pattern and beautiful shade of red. and now, in proper united style, we’re straight back to mediocrity.

let’s talk details. oh wait, they aren’t ANY. there is nothing to say about this kit because there is nothing going ON with this kit. i like the white stripes. that’s it. theres the ombré red at the bottom, which is like- it’s okay. problem is - there’s like four too many shades of red on this shirt, and none of them are that nice. it needs a pattern or something! a pop! a little pizzazz! not a fan of the curved back panel, but it does look a whole lot better than arsenal’s at least.

this is absolutely nothing groundbreaking but it’s fine. it’s just so fucking plain. i know my girls will still serve in it, but i hoped for more. of course, in true united fashion: it’s the hope that kills you - 6/10

7. Chelsea

the tagline for this release is 'we burn blue', because 'the hottest part of the flame burns blue'. congrats on passing year seven chemistry guys. anyway, with that in mind, this kit is, naturally of course, patterned with a mystery blue LIQUID. im not seeing flames in any part of this kit. literally how is this meant to look like fire. this tagline is pure bollocks. it literally could not look more like water if it tried. aka, the opposite of fire.

the kit itself, i'm honestly struggling to form an opinion. i dont think i hate it, but i dont love it either. it may have been easier to figure out if i could actually SEE the kit in any of the release photos, instead of some stupid fucking slow motion blur effect. this pic makes mayra look like she's undergoing mitosis. poor girl's been through enough. it says a lot that in your official kit release you're actively preventing me from looking at the kit.

its not awful? i'm not a fan of these kind of realistic graphics on kits, just makes it look fake and cheap, but like, idk its kinda cool ig. the more i look the more i'm down with it. the colours are nice. its shiny. i'm glad we've gone for originality at least. patterns are fun. - 7.5/10

8. Brighton

i missed this release bc i saw the pictures and genuinely did not realise it was a different kit oops. i do feel bad for clubs who have committed to a striped kit because honestly there’s not really many ways you can play with that. but also that’s kind of their own fault. there’s really not much you can say about this. the sleeves are white this time… okay… there’s a faint pinstripe down each stripe… okayyy… yep that’s kind of it really.

it’s clean, it’s classic brighton, it’s a decent kit. there’s just genuinely nothing new about this. it’s fine. they just clearly couldn’t be bothered and i respect that. - 6/10

9. West Ham

okay we’re doing turtlenecks now apparently!! interesting choice!! i think it kinda looks fuckass silly but also i kind of like it actually. bit of fun innit. good stripes.

the rest of the kit is pretty mid. plainer than a toast sandwich. except for the sleeves! because this year, not only are they bringing in turtlenecks, west ham have decided to also bring in milkmaid sleeves! why is it like that? like is it just a weird bad fit or have they put a fucking elasticated band on? who’s idea was that? what is going on! also am i having a stroke or has the badge changed colour. because it looks fucking hideous. what did they do that for.

i do love the fact they did this shoot in a pub though. very funny. and the kit isn’t too bad. i like the stripes - 6/10

10. Leicester

this is the plainest most boring kit i have ever seen with my own two eyes. that is literally all i can say about this. boring. much like the city of leicester itself.

however - the women have a different kit sponsor to the men and i respect that so you can have one bonus point - 4/10

11. Everton

i’ll be totally honest - i wasn’t expecting everton to give me like the best kit of the bunch. this is the kit for me. i like this one a lot. castore may be mega shit quality but at least they don’t just copy paste all their kits.

i fucking love the pattern here. it’s subtle but it’s nice! and it’s different! we’re not doing any mad shit like chelsea, we’re not doing absolutely nothing at all like leicester. the perfect middle ground of the blue kits. the sponsor is hideous but i’m ignoring that. this is just lovely to look at. stylish, sleek. it’s giving high quality bus seats. this is no stagecoach, this is private hire only. i just love it. and then to top it all off, just the perfect amount of collar detailing. i would be a happy toffee if i was wearing this. gorgeous. loses half a point because the badge fell off during the game which is hysterical.- 9.5/10

12. Aston Villa

this is just the west ham kit if west ham were normal. it’s nothing to write home about, but i do like it. i like the block sleeves and the stripe colour. i like the subtle stripes down the side. i like the simplicity. i like the collar stripes. i even like the flat badge. also i’m assuming this is a betting sponsor which sucks but i do have to say that the sponsor looks great with this kit. it blends in, which is rare. this is a clean, classic kit, and i’m glad that at least one team could be normal. i don’t like that there’s pretty much nothing i can make fun of here. unfortunate for me, good for villa. good job - 8/10

note - all this was written as soon as each club released their kit, so some of my opinions have changed, and a lot have grown on me (looking at you united), but i’ve left the review untouched so you can get purely my honest first impression.

away, third and goalkeeper ratings are currently in progress so expect them once they've all been released! these posts literally never get any notes but i absolutely love doing them so i'm doing it anyway, but if you did wanna encourage me with some nice comments that wouldn't go amiss ;) xx

[heckitall]

How do military ranks work? Especially between different branches. Ik that like admiral is for navy but the rest of the terminology is lost on me lol

WOOF

okay! first of all, you're completely right - ranks across the US branches are completely different which is extremely dumb. We don't even know all of them, we only memorize the ones within our own branch (and if we work closely with a sister branch).

ranks are broken up into two sections: enlisted and officers. i explained this the other day kind of morbidly, but basically it works out to:

enlisted -> meatshields

officers -> meatshield directors

officers join the military with degrees that usually the military paid for them to get. meaning, the military was like, hey we need people who have a degree in x

and people are like "oh i want that degree"

and the military goes "great! once you have said degree, you belong to us for 4-6 years"

and people agree to that. officers are the leaders. a group of enlisted are always overseen by officers of varying ranks.

now, enlisted (which is what i was) can be any Schmoe off the street. ie, i had no where else to go and was desperate and the military said "hey we can board and feed you for the next 4-6 years" and i said "oh that's nice" and they said "great we own you now".

enlisted salute officers (enlisted are never saluted (unless you're me and wore an officer rank one afternoon to see how long it took anyone to notice AND I GOT IN A LOT OF TROUBLE DO NOT RECOMMEND)

officers only salute higher ranking officers (ie, a first lieutenant salutes a captain)

enlisted do the grunt work. towards the end of my career, i got to oversee officers (and BOY DID THEY HATE THAT) and whenever we needed something done (like a closet cleaned out) the officers would go "this looks like an enlisted job"

not saying officers are terrible

or that enlisted are worthless

you need both to work cohesively in the kind of environments the military works in

usually the first 4-ish ranks on both enlisted and officers are 'give away' ranks. meaning if you don't get into a bunch of trouble, you'll make rank just based on time. after that, making rank requires testing.

even tho ranks are different across the sister branches, they also go by a number code. E-1 thru E-8 are enlisted, while O-1 thru O-6 (and higher) are officers.

so an E-2 in the Air Force is an Airman First Class

an E-2 in the Army is Private 2nd Class

an O-3 in the Air Force is a Captain

an O-3 in the Army is also a Captain. in fact, i'm pretty sure captain is one of the only ranks that's in all branches of the US military. so bad example. but my point still stands lmao

officers and enlisted DO NOT INTERMINGLE. seriously. no dating, no interacting outside of work (within reason), no "showing favorites". officers are untouchable gods to enlisted. it's weird. trust me.

i once matched with my lieutenant on a dating app and deleted the whole app because i was scared it was a trap (it probably was).

uhhhhh i hope that sort of helps! i figured if you were looking for actual rank names, it might be easier to google them. if youre using ranks for a story, i'd first figure out which branch you want them from and then google the ranking system. E4/O3 is when most people become competent in the military.

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Chapter 8 Part 1: Metus Obscuritatis (Fear of the Dark)

Previous / Masterlist / Next

‘‘You sent my Sergeant there with no clue, and now you’re pissed that she’s not listening to you? What did you think it was going to happen?’’ He slammed his fist on the table again, but a bit softer this time. ‘‘Do you fucking want her to become another Ghost?’’

‘‘She already is’’ Laswell shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. ‘‘Has she told you how she got out? After Transnistria?’’

Price’s blue, cerulean eyes narrowed dangerously, and the Captain crossed his arms. Dealing with one Ghost was tricky enough even in his best days, and if he had to worry about two of them, he’d go grey faster than he thought.

‘‘No. She said she broke out’’

‘‘Oh, she did. Through the front door. Leaving ashes behind’’ She sighed again, seeing the situation getting out of hand without Price’s backing. ‘‘I sent a team to clean afterwards. It was a carnage.’’

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47442772

‘‘Confirm, Wolf 7’’

The air seemed colder somehow. Even with the sun timidly appearing over the trees, painting the sky with delicate red brushes.

Riot was looking at her comm as if the device was a venomous snake, eyes narrowed and the ice in them darker, the rest of her face inscrutable beneath her half balaclava. Ghost could tell she was tense though, the fabric was tight enough that he was able to make out her clenched jaw.

‘‘Hey’’ He muttered, closing the distance between them until he was towering over her, so close that he could feel the brush of her arm against his vest each time she took air in. She looked up at him, eyebrows together, conflicted.

‘‘I asked her not do this. She sent me here to make sure I recognised him. He’s one of Rico’s lieutenants.’’ She whispered, her hand gripping one of her knives. ‘‘I should have known. I knew.’’

Ghost looked around once, and then his hand grabbed the back of her combat belt and pulled her closer until her side was pressed tightly against his chest, still looking down at her. She didn’t protest, and her free hand slowly laced her fingers around one of the straps of his plate carrier.

‘‘Wolf’’

‘‘Some years ago I was called to join a Special Operations temporal group to support a couple of MI6 agents abroad.’’ She sighed. ‘‘We never saw each other and worked alone, but to communicate used the codename Wolf and a number. After that one, each time I’ve been sent on a solo mission they have used that code to ‘activate’ me, so to speak.’’

‘‘Nothing any of us haven’t done before’’ Ghost’s voice seemed unfazed, his hand still gripping her belt to keep her close. ‘‘I’m usually just Ghost, or Bravo 0 7’’

‘‘You’re not just a ghost’’ Riot muttered, and looked up at him. ‘‘I was done with secret shit. Secret shit killed my squad. I just want to… I should have known better. I knew she wouldn’t keep her word, and still…’’

‘‘All of us have made that mistake, some more than once. People you know can hurt you the most.’’ He shrugged, looking down at her, his brown eyes locked on hers. ‘‘Don’t be so hard on yourself, lovie. There’s a silver lining to this shit’’

‘‘Which is?’’She smiled sadly under the balaclava. She had to. His tone, even gruff, was comforting somehow. Lovie. She even felt pathetic feeling so comforted.

‘‘You’re not doing this alone’’ Ghost kept his eyes on hers. There was something there, in her eyes, in those blue irises with grey tones. He still didn’t know what it was. He just knew he wanted it. Not for the first time, he felt thankful for wearing the skull mask when her eyes narrowed in a smile. Not for the first time, he wished to rip that mask off.

‘‘I wouldn’t want anyone else’’

-

In Latvia

‘‘The fuck are you doing, Kate?’’

Captain Price’s voice could cut rocks when angry. That was something Ghost had told Gaz and Soap long ago, and now, both of them were enjoying to not be on the receiving end of his anger. In silence, both of them watched the scene from the corner of the room.

‘‘Wolf 7, confirm’’ Laswell insisted on the comm, receiving only static. ‘‘Riot!’’

‘‘You better start talking or i cut you from the feed right now and order them back’’ Price slammed his hand on the table, next to Laswell, and stared at her hardly, his blue eyes promising a fucking storm if she didn’t comply. ‘‘And I assure you I am absolutely positive about whose orders they are going to follow’’

‘‘I needed her there to confirm the HeadHunter’s presence, John’’ The Station Chief looked at him, unfazed at his anger, she had seen it many times before. ‘‘And I need them to bring that man back here, he can take us to Captain Rico, and Rico could give us Shepherd… Riot, answer!’’

‘‘You sent my Sergeant there with no clue, and now you’re pissed that she’s not listening to you? What did you think it was going to happen?’’ He slammed his fist on the table again, but a bit softer this time. ‘‘Do you fucking want her to become another Ghost?’’

‘‘She already is’’ Laswell shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. ‘‘Has she told you how she got out? After Transnistria?’’

Price’s blue, cerulean eyes narrowed dangerously, and the Captain crossed his arms. Dealing with one Ghost was tricky enough even in his best days, and if he had to worry about two of them, he’d go grey faster than he thought.

‘‘No. She said she broke out’’

‘‘Oh, she did. Through the front door. Leaving ashes behind’’ She sighed again, seeing the situation getting out of hand without Price’s backing. ‘‘I sent a team to clean afterwards. It was a carnage.’’

‘‘Good girl, I’d say’’

‘‘You adopted her already?’’ Laswell rolled her eyes, trying to think how to salvage the situation. ‘‘Ghost, do you copy?’’

‘‘No’’

From their corner, Soap snorted loudly at Ghost’s dry answer. Price shot him a warning look, but before he could say anything, Riot called him.

‘‘Price’’ God, she sounded cold. The image of a younger and broken Simon Riley flashed in his memory again. Price, I can’t do it anymore.

‘‘I’m here, kid’’ Like hell am I going to allow you to become another Ghost.

‘‘Confirm’’

‘‘I have given you an order, Sergeant’’ Laswell insisted, but knowing already it was getting nowhere.

‘‘Price. Confirm’’ Riot ignored her completely, her intentions and loyalty clear.

‘‘Hunt that bastard down and then you two come back’’ Price didn’t even try to not sound smug, ignoring Laswell’s eyes. ‘‘Ghost, provide support’’

‘‘Roger’’

‘‘If we want to find Shepherd we need Floyd alive, Price’’ The Station Chief was clearly not happy, jaw clenched and arms crossed, but tried to keep her composure. ‘‘I need…’’

Price turned abruptly to put a finger right under Laswell’s nose, leaning in closer until their eyes were close.

‘‘Don’t give me that shit. Don’t try to sway me your way when you have sent someone that you yourself said was deeply traumatised to come across someone responsible of her torture without warning’’ He let out a deep grunt, pacing now next to the desk. ‘‘Yesterday you told me to keep her on a leash, and now you’re setting her loose and want her to bark at your command’’

‘‘We do whatever is needed to protect our countries, John’’

‘‘Yeah well, I hope that comforts you when she hunts you down for this’’

[lunarsun12]

The Gold Thief - Part 1

Masterlist

Next Part

Jay took Sunoo and Sunghoon, to his dad’s house to clean up anything he left behind. When he moved to the states, as he wants to sell the house as no one wanted it.

During the cleaning up, Sunghoon stumbled his grandpa dairy and discovered he has a gold vault. Without hesitation Sunghoon, went to investigate hoping he can keep the gold to himself. He a gave scream, which altered Jay as the gold was gone.

Who is the gold thief? Is there more then meets the eye?

Back At Enhypen Chat

Today 18:00

Jay💰: THIS IS BAD! THIS IS WAR! THIS IS…

Jungwon🐈‍⬛: Jay Hyung! Stop being dramatic!

Jay💰: I AM SHOCK APPA LEFT BEHIND GOLD!!

Heesung🦌: WHAT! He said he sold everything and moved to the state!

Jay💰: Me and the kids decided to visit his home. You know to help clean stuff out before he sells the house

Jay💰: Sunghoon read in Appa dairy. He left gold behind in the safe!

Sunghoon❄️: SOMEONE STOLE IT! AND BEAT US TOWARDS IT!!

Sunoo☀️: *Gasp*

Jungwon🐈‍⬛: You should leave it be…you know it could be else…

Heesung🦌: Thinking about it, why hasn’t Appa never mentioned that he has gold in his safe

Jay💰: MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY! Thankfully Sunghoon snooping ability comes in handy for once

Jungwon🐈‍⬛: Don’t you mean Sunoo? That is kinda of his thing

Jay💰: Sunoo go distracted when he saw shiny things

Sunoo☀️: Don’t blame me! I am so irresistible with all those mirrors. I have to see all them!!

Sunghoon❄️: No there is a thief! Grandpa written in his dairy only people who he tells the code knows it! IT ONE OF US!!

Sunoo☀️: Does it really matter, if we catch the gold thief? We are pretty much rich?

Sunghoon❄️: YES IT DOES MATTER!! Someone is robbing our rights it Grandpa fortune! It gotta be one of you!!

Heesung🦌: I bet it was Jay! Pretending to be shock! So he keeps all the money to himself!!

Jay💰: Bruh! I am not the thief! Sunghoon wouldn’t go to this extent! If I did it

Sunghoon❄️: Just one you tell me here or even better privately!!

Jungwon🐈‍⬛: You acting a suspicious Sunghoon! Since when are you invested in anything except ice skating

Sunghoon❄️: I am only trustworthy person here clearly!

Jungwon🐈‍⬛: My kitty senses thinks not…

Sunoo☀️: Uncle Heesung? Maybe you set up Jake to do it! And use his innocent face

Jake🐶: Woah woah what is this drama!

Heesung🦌: I WILL NEVER DO THAT! It was one time! You mr sunshine ain’t innocent as well!!

Jake🐶: Gold? In grandpa basement! Oh wow! Who ever took it is so lucky!

Sunghoon❄️: YOU are so lucky! Means you did the deed!!

Jake🐶: Whaa.? I have been helping at dog shelter all day. How an earth I got the time to go to grandpa house!!!

Heesung🦌: Sunghoon! Stop blaming everybody it could be you and Sunoo pretending to help!!

Sunghoon❄️: I wouldn’t even be talking to you losers! I would be travelling the world!!

Sunghoon❄️: Sunoo will literally announce it. He stole something like usual

Sunoo☀️: I didn’t know the gold exist until know…I’m innocent as always

Sunghoon❄️: This is everyone! It gotta be one you!!

Jake🐶: Aren’t we forgetting someone?

Sunghoon❄️: NIKI! That little brat! He must have done it! To annoy us!!

Jungwon🐈‍⬛: Niki is innocent!! He will never steal!!

Heesung🦌: Jungwon! Niki haven’t said a word! He will be the first to jump on here. If somone said gold!!

Jungwon🐈‍⬛: Leave Niki out of this!! He is busy like you all supposed to be!!

Jay💰: I say we ransack Jungwon home! We once and for all if his little baby Niki is innocent

Heesung🦌: I agree with Jay!

Jake🐶: Aren’t you two like rich? Why bother with it all! Uncle Jungwon needed the most!

Heesung🦌: Son you will understand after I get the money!!

Jay💰: Don’t you mean we?

Jungwon🐈‍⬛: You two dare bring your kids over and ransack my place. I will karate chop you all!

Jungwon🐈‍⬛: I am black belt don’t forget that!!

Jay💰: SCREW THAT! This is about who is in the highest seat in the pecking order. Once and for all, we can say I am the better son

Heesung🦌: Don’t you mean me? It will teach you little brats to ever disrespect me!!

Sunoo☀️: This is embarrassing! They want it more than Sunghoon trying to play detective. Of course Sunghoon will share the gold like usual, if he found it

Sunghoon❄️: Let leave it to the grownups. I have a way we can get to Niki before those oldies get to him first

Next Part

[dizzyjelly]

Beautiful Girl pt. 2 (18+)

Read part 1 here!

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: you and Abby go on a mall date and you run into your ex, Abby takes you back to her place and you guys have some fun;)

Cw: smut, use of daddy, strap-on sex, fingering, finger sucking

It had been almost a week since your hot and heated kiss with Abby on her couch, and things were going exceptionally well between the two of you. That night you ended up falling asleep cuddled on her couch, you expected the morning after to be slightly awkward. But it was everything but that, you woke up to the smell of your favorite breakfast which Abby cooked for you.

A smile was present on your face as you made your way to her kitchen, sitting at her Island and watching contently as she plated the food. She'd greet you with a cheeky good morning and you'd return her with the same.

Now, fast forward a few days later. You stood at her front door, knocking way too many times as you were eager to see her. Once she finally came to the door, she scolded you for knocking so much. You just shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

"I was actually about to head out, you wanna go to the mall with me?" She asked as she was grabbing her things.

"Um, yes! I'd love to, but what are you going for?" You asked as you followed her out to her car.

"Just wanted to get some new clothes, and I've been really craving those pretzels from Auntie Annes." She explained as she started the car.

"Ok, cool." You responded with a smile.

Abby would rest her hand on your thigh as she drove, a habit she picked up after your shared kiss. Not only was it comforting, but it also made the butterflies in your stomach travel further south. You did your best to keep your mind clean on the way there, but it was proving impossible as she played with the hem of your baby pink skirt.

Abby was no fool, she knew it drove you crazy. But maybe that's what drove her to continue her actions. The way your breath would hitch, and you'd stretch your neck from side to side. It always brought a playful smirk to her lips. One she'd never let you see though, at least not yet.

Eventually you got to the mall and Aby brought her hand back to her side, stepping out of the car and walling over to open your door for you. You thanked her with a smile then walked beside her into the mall. It happened to actually be insanely busy, worried you'd lose her in the sea of people you interlocked your fingers with Abbys. You smiled widely as she gave your hand a light squeeze, glancing over at you.

She was leading the way, already having a store in mind. But you stopped her, standing outside of the Yankee Candle. She stopped to stand next to you, confused as to why you wouldn't budge.

"Oh, Abby, please can we go in here?" You asked with puppy dog eyes.

"Ok, fine." She agreed, how could she say no to you?

You smiled big as you walked in, admiring the color coded rows of candles on various shelves. You'd held your arm around hers now, taking her to where all the red and pink candles sat. She watched in amusement as you grabbed one, popping off the lid to take a strong whiff.

"Mm, Abs smell this one." You'd say as you shoved the candle in her face, making it bump into her nose lightly.

"Oh, ok" She chuckled a bit, smiling as she smelt it, "damn, that does smell good. You know what, that smells like your room." She quirked a brow at the familiarity.

"Well probably because I have like five of these at home." You joked.

"Wh- why did you need to smell it here then?" She asked confused.

"It's tradition, I am going to smel every candle in this store." You shrugged, and immediately she was shaking her head in disagreement.

"Ok, no, not all of them!" She argued, "that's gonna take way too long."

"I guess you're right, but here let's at least get through these." You gestured to the shelf of pink candles behind you.

You'd each pick one up, smell it, then hand it to each other to smell for yourselves. Everything was going great, and you'd noted some of your favorites as you went along the shelf. But then, you felt someone grabbing at your forearm, and it wasn't Abby.

"Hey Y/n!" She exclaimed, as if she was beyond happy to see you.

Your eyes widened and you let out a sharp exhale, because of fucking course it was your ex. Stacy. Not only was she a shitty girlfriend, but she totally ghosted you. You'd just assumed that was her way of breaking up with you.

"Uh, hi." You chuckled awkwardly, avoiding Abbys strong gaze.

"Gosh, it's been forever. You know I really missed you, I've been trying to call you too. Did you get a new number or something?" Se asked, feigning innocence as she lightly stroked your arm.

Nope, you'd just blocked her sorry ass on about every platform you could thing of. It was more out of rage than anything, but you certainly didn't regret it.

"Uh, sure lets just say that." You scratched behind your ear, one of your many nervous habits.

"Well, that's too bad. I thought maybe we could catch up, watch a movie like old times?" She bit at her bottom lip with a cheeky smile.

When you guys were together, anytime you'd sit down to watch a movie you never actually watched it. It'd take about twenty minutes or so before you were fucking each other's brains out. As you continued speaking with Stacy, the bitter feeling of jealousy just rose in Abby’s chest.

"Yeah, no" and finally you pulled your arm from her touch, leaning into Abby, "this is Abby, and if im being honest I'd much rather watch a movie with her than you."

Stacy scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, whatever. We both know I'm the best you ever had." Now she was just being cocky.

"Please, as if. I'd put you like fourth at best." You quickly humbled her and she walked away with her head ducked down in embarrassment.

You could feel Abby tense, and you felt bad. It's not like it was your fault you'd run into Stacy, but still. You turned to face her, bringing your hands to her sides. You'd rub them up and down before pulling her body against yours by her waist, resting your had on her shoulder. She sighed, wrapping her arms around your back.

"Still wanna get pretzels and shop?" Your voice was muffled by her neck.

"Mm, let's get pretzels but I don't really feel like shopping anymore." She let out a heavy breath.

"Mkay." You pulled away from her, placing a quick kiss to her lips before taking her hand in your own as she led you two to the Auntie Annes.

Once you got there she ordered for the both of you, you each just got a pretzel and a soda. You'd asked for cheese dip, and she just had hers plain. Something you found outrageous.

The two of you sat on one of the various couches in the mall, just close enough so that your thighs would touch. You ate in silence for a bit, until finally you spoke up.

"Sorry about Stacy earlier. I don't know what the hells gotten into her." You shook your head.

"Oh, that's fine. I'm just glad you didn't take her up on her offer." She let out a small laugh of relief.

"Come on, no way. Besides, like I said, I'd way much rather be spending my time with you." You turned to look at her now, a small smirk on your face.

She smiled back at you, her eyes wandering all over your face. And taking the occasional glance at how good your top made your tits stick out. After a minute you'd bring a hand to the side of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss.

She brought a hand to your waist, smiling as your lips locked with hers. You sighed into her, giving her full access to slip her tongue into your mouth. You'd proceed to swap spit until you were too embarrassed to continue, as you were in public. That and the fact that you worried if you didn't stop, things would go further than just making out.

You finished your food and sipped on your drinks as you walked back out to the car. Abby took you guys back to her place, where she'd ask you to help out with some chores around the house. You didn't mind, more than willing to lend her a helping hand. It was nothing too terrible either, mostly just sweeping or cleaning out clutter.

Hours went by and it was quite dark out now. You and Abby were just lounging on her bed, she had her back against the headboard and her legs spread. You laid with your back on her chest, a hand resting on her thigh as you sat between her legs. After a minute or so, she tapped your shoulder lightly.

"Hm?" You'd hum, not looking back at her.

"You wanna go out?" She asked.

"Like, to a bar?" You'd ask in return.

"Yeah, why not? We haven't gone out in a while." She shrugged.

It didn't seem the most appealing, as you were looking forward to just a cozy night in. But she was right, it'd been too long since you went out together. So you agreed and practically jumped with joy when she let you dress her. Once you'd had her in a rather sexy outfit, you couldn't help but focus on her bare face.

"Can I do your makeup?" You asked, fluttering your eyelashes at her.

"Eh, I don't know." She was hesitant as she preferred a more natural look.

"Pleade please pleaseeee, I'll do anything." You begged, and immediately a smirk formed on her face.

"Anything huh? Alright fine." She agreed, and you pushed her to lay back on her bed as you rummaged through her vanity.

It took you a while, but finally you found what you were looking for. A black eyeliner pencil, a tube of mascara, and a tinted chapstick which was the closest you'd get to lip gloss. You set the makeup products down on the bed beside Abby, then you pushed her legs together as she had a habit of manspreading.

You tried to ignore the fluttering in both your stomach, and your cunt, as you straddled her then leaned forward to grab the eyeliner. Abby, of course, had a stupid smirk painted on her face as she brought her hands to rest on your hips.

"You know, I think I like you on top." She'd whisper in a sultry voice.

"Shut the fuck up." You'd respond, letting out a low laugh as you practically layed on top of her so you could begin drawing on her eyeliner.

Her eyes bored into yours as you did your best to give her a straight wing, and you were rather pleased with your finished work. Leaning back, you set the eyeliner pen down and went to reach for the mascara. But Abby stopped you before you could, her hands finding a tight grip on your wrists. Your breath hitched as you struggled to get them free, steadying yourself so your hands were at either side of her head.

"What are you doing, hm? Thought you wanted to go out." You whispered against her face as your lips were nearly touching hers as you spoke.

"I don't know, I've got something else in mind now." She looked at you with suggestive eyes.

"Oh, yeah? Like what?" You prompted, wiggling your hips a bit so that your clothed cunt grazed against hers perfectly.

"Mm, fuck." She groaned, and before you knew it she was on top.

Abby wouldn't waste any time, first she'd start by kissing you sloppily. Then traveling her lips to your jaw, and your neck to suck a few hickeys that'd definitely be visible tomorrow. You let out something between a huff and a moan as she kissed her way down to your waist, pulling your skirt down and tossing it to the floor. She'd tapped your legs, looking at you from where she knelt between your legs.

"Put your legs up for me baby." She smiled as you listened, raising and spreading your legs at once so she had a perfect view of your white panties.

She let out a low chuckle, pressing her fingers to the wet spot that had formed on them. She watched you intently as she ran her fingers up and down your clothed cunt, circling at your clit for just a moment before pulling away completely.

"Abbyyy~" You whined, bucking your hips up against nothing, searching for some kind of relief.

"Shh, I know baby, I know." She shushed you as she brought her hands to your thighs, spreading your legs unbelievably further as she placed feather light kisses to your inner thighs.

So close, yet so far from where you needed her the most.

"Mmnph- Abby, fuck. Please." You whined, and of course she'd play dumb.

"What is it, baby? What do you need?" She asked, continued the kisses on your inner thighs.

"Ugh, just fucking-" You gasped slightly as she pressed her tongue flat against the wet spot on your panties, lapping at it "fuckk, need you inside me." You let out a small moan.

A devilish smile was present on her face as she finally pulled your panties off, starting with some kisses to your clit. You threw your head back, letting it sink further into the mattress as you let out moans and whimpers from the way she sucked at your sensitive bud. And you thought, finally, as she circled your hole unbelievably slow with her middle finger before plunging it in all the way.

You let out a breathy moan, the way her finger curled up against that sweet spot made you feel like you were going to black out. After about a minute or so of her moderately paced thrusts, you let out a whine.

"More." You demanded with a whimper.

"More what?" She'd ask in return, as if she didn't already know the answer.

"Mm~ fingers! Please, daddy." And your eyes widened at the name, it was unexpected to say the least.

Immediately you worried Abby would find it weird, or that she wouldn't be into it. But much to your dismay, she let out a low groan as she pushed her ring finger into your hole.

"Fuck, say it again." She commanded, and of course you obliged.

You'd continue to make and whine, the word 'daddy' being the majority of your vocabulary now. A few more minutes went by and you felt that familiar pressure in yohr stomach.

"Ab- Mm, fuck, daddy. 'M gonna cum." You whined, your brows furrowing in pleasure.

"Go ahead baby, cum for Daddy." She let out a small moan as your juices coated her fingers.

She didn't stop though, driving you into overstimulation until you'd be begging her to stop. Once she did, she brought her fingers to your mouth. You opened up and welcomed them with your warm tongue, swirling it around them and moaning at the taste of yourself.

"That's my girl, clean your mess." She smiled at you as you sucked her fingers clean, "Yeah, good girl." She hummed.

And you swore you felt your clit throb at the pet name because Jesus fucking Christ.

"Abs~" You whined, for what you're not entirely sure.

She brought a finger to your lips, shushing you before giving you a small pat on your upper thigh.

"Be right back baby, stay right here." She walked over to her closet, dropping her pants them retrieving an item from the top shelf.

You could've foamed at the mouth when she walked back over with a goddamn eight inch bright pink strap tied on her waist. She brought her hands to rub at your hips softly, a smile plastered on her face.

"You're so fucking beautiful..." She whispered, "you already came all over my fingers, but I bet you'll like it even better when you cum on my cock, hm?" She rubbed her hands across your thighs and just skimmed them on your tummy a bit.

"Mm-hm, yes Daddy. Please, wanna cum all over your cock." You whined.

She nodded her head to the nightstand behind you, which is where the lube sat.

"You wanna help me out? Be a good girl and get my cock all nice and ready for you?" She asked, and you nodded feverishly.

Leaning back, you stretched your arm to grab the bottle, unintentionally arching your back. The sight had Abby illiciting a soft groan, her grip on your hips tightening at the sight of you. You popped the cap open, squirting(😉) a decent amount of lube onto your hand. Then you reached forward, wrapping it around the long strap and stroking it gently as you coated it. Once you were finished you closed the bottle and tossed it to the side on the bed, wiping your semi-sticky hand on the sheets.

Abby took her time, and it felt like forever. But she finally pushed into you, and God it felt amazing. The stretch was just enough, almost too much, but not quite there. It rested against that sweet sweet spot perfectly, and then as she began to thrust you felt like you'd die from how good it felt.

"D-daddy..." You whined, and she stilled for a moment.

Her hands came to either side of your face, as she peered down at you.

"Yes, baby?" She asked, smirking at how you pouted from the way she stopped her motions.

"Please, don't go easy." You let out a small moan.

Her smile only grew, and so did yours as her thrusts resumed. She started at an unbearably slow pace, but quickly went harder and faster. You brought a hand to grip her bicep, the other one laying lazily above your head. She kept a strong grip on your legs as she pounded into you so relentlessly. Then, she brought her hands to underneath your thighs so she could pess your knees to your chest. Somehow she'd managed to thrust into you even harder, even faster.

"Stacy ever fuck you this good, hm?" Abby asked with a smirk.

"N-no, only you can fuck me this good daddy mm~" You moaned.

Your moans only grew louder, occasional whimpers and whines slipping past your lips at how good Abby was fucking you. It didn't take much more for you to cum, and when you finally did it felt so perfect. You practically screamed as you came, and all Abby could do was smile and let out a small moan at how fucking sexy it all was.

Once she'd felt you'd finished riding out your high, she pulled out. You whined at the emptiness, and she chuckled softly.

"Come on, I want you on top. Wanna see you ride my cock." She rubbed at your sides, helping you up as you were already a bit exhausted after having came twice.

She let out a deep sigh, caressing your hips as she reached for the lube feeling a bit more was needed. You waited as she coated her beautifully long strap in it, resting as you straddled her thighs. You raised yourself up, and she slid into your sopping cunt once again.

Your thighs twitched as you leaned forward, almost laying completely on top of her as you slowly rocked your hips and grinded down onto her cock. Abby moved her hands to your hips, helping you move your hips in just the right way.

You'd grabbed her strong shoulders to stabilize yourself, letting loud sweet moans fall past your lips as you gripped them helplessly. Abby bit down on her bottom lip as the strap was hitting her clit just perfectly, but it was too soft. She didn't mind though, because with the way your tits were bouncing in her face she could probably finish right here. She wouldn't yet though.

"Fuck, baby, you drive me insane." Abby let out a small huff as her hands roamed all over your back.

You let out a small laugh, grinding unbelievably harder as you were chasing what would now be your third release. After a minute or so, you leaned back and placed your hands behind you on her legs to stabilize yourself. Abby moaned loudly as she held your waist.

"Oh, f-feels 's much better like that." She whined, the strap hitting her clit just right now.

She thrusted into you, moaning as she watched the way your tits bounced and your body jiggled. It didn't take much more for you to cum this time, and it hit you like a truck. You sighed exasperatedly as your body stilled with exhaustion. Abby groaned frustratedly, resuming her movements as you'd stopped. She came with a loud moan and a smile on her face.

You let yourself fall against her, your boobs resting against her own which were covered by her black sports bra. You were breathless, your arms wrapping around her. She brought her arms to rub your back soothingly.

"Did you cum?" Your voice was whiny and breathless, but you were worried more than anything that you hadn't returned the pleasure Abby had given you.

"Yeah, fuck." She'd respon, easing your worries.

"I need a second." You let out another sigh, Abby chuckled lightly, rubbing at your hips.

"'S ok, you can take a second." She placed a kiss to your cheeks, letting you lie there for as long as you'd need.

Once you were ready, Abby pulled out and lied you down on the bed before standing and removing her strap. She walked to the bathroom and brought back a wet washcloth to wipe you down with, caressing your cheek and placing a kiss to your forehead. You smiled up at her, bringing a hand to her shoulder.

She discarded the rag then helped you get into one of her t-shirts and a pair of boxers, while she stayed in her sports bra and threw on some boxers as well. She climbed into bed with you, spooning you from behind as she pulled you against her. You relaxed against her, smiling as she'd push a strand of hair behind your ear then place one last kiss on your cheek before resting her head so that her nose was in your hair. You'd both fall asleep shortly after.

[hopefulstarfire]

Have another jewelry psa for you that's kind of an all encompassing, here's everything post from someone that works in coding at a repair depot.

Please don't wear your jewelry into pools, hot tubs, the ocean, etc. The chemicals are bad for your jewelry and can really tarnish silver! If it's a base metal (not gold or silver or brass or even tungsten or stainless steel; i.e., copper), it can not be cleaned and polished or even repaired, so please be careful with it! Oh and especially jewelry with opals in it please be careful getting those wet!

Don't shop at JCPenney.

Stainless Steel is something that's harder to work on and only some jewelry repair depots can do anything with it. This is because of the high melting point and also trying to match the finish on it.

For the love of God don't get tungsten. You cannot size tungsten or repair tungsten at all and it can be very brittle. I had one come in completely shattered and the ticket said it was hit by a basketball.

Don't shop at JCPenney.

I personally don't think hollow jewelry is worth it at all. Specifically earrings. You cannot undent those or do much repairs with them cause yeah they'll just break they're an automatic buyout for us.

For my depot, repairs can take upwards of five weeks, depending on the type of repair. Sizing? Little easier, takes a couple weeks, depending on how much we're Sizing it up or down (if we're taking it from a 7 to 13, it'll take just a little longer to make sure everything's secure). If we have to reshank (this happens when the band of the ring is too thin, meaning it's measuring under .70mm or it's yknow missing the entire bottom half), or replace missing stones (and match it by the color, clarity and size), or anything that's a true repair, it does take a little bit longer and typically is within those 5 weeks unless it's something super heavy and crazy. Custom pieces, where you ask the jewelry to make you a completely new piece, can take at least a month!

Don't shop at JCPenney

Cubic zirconia rings are cheaper than diamonds and I guarantee you they're much prettier go for those.

If your piece of jewelry is causing itchy and red skin, namely if it's white gold or silver, there's a solid chance you have a nickel allergy. Let that be known when you go to send it off and they can plate it differently. It'll still keep that same color but that way it won't cause an allergic reaction.

You can tell what your jewelrys metal type is by looking at the stamp on it! Some examples;

925 - Silver. However, 925 + 1/20 is platinaire and yes it'd confusing because I swear to God, when the stamp starts to wear off, it only ever wears off the + 1/20 and not the 925.

Typically, when it comes to gold, it'll say 10k or 14k (those are the most common I've seen in the U.S., though once in a while I'll see 18k, and I've had one 20k and one 9k). However, and especially on chains, I'll see the 585 for 14k, for example.

SR BR means silver over brass, and just BR is brass. Though sometimes it'll be silver over brass and it'll just say BR.

Don't shop at JCPenney.

You can tell if pearls are real by rubbing them on your teeth. I found this out after I saw our stores owner doing that. Yes it's weird. Real pearls feel rough and gritty, fake ones feel smooth.

Pearls are also a bitch bc if the clasp breaks or anything you have to resting them. Or if they're on a ring or earring and come off, you have to reglue them onto the little spike rather than resetting them and tipping the prongs around them. It's weird as hell to me.

I recommend being careful if you see earrings that have a snap setting. On the sides, they remind me of like tulip seems for some reason and the prongs they have set very flimsily over the earrings and curl over them versus your standard prong that rests against the sides of the stone. They are super fucking frail and will break if you do anything to them repair wise and don't offer really any security for your stones. Below is an example picture but I hope my descriptions pretty apt

DON'T SHOP AT JCPENNEY!!!!!

I have found you can find better sales in department stores than you can on their online site. My ring was marked at 200 but my man's got it for 87 bucks and I've never been more proud.

JCPENNEY JEWELRY IS CHEAP AND IT SUCKS AND THE PROTECTION PLANS ARENT WORTH IT IF YOU'RE NOT SPENDING HUNDREDS OR THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS ON SOMETHING JUST DON'T BOTHER THEY ARE THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE.

If anyone wants to know more jewelry tips please feel free to ask! Or if you have some, add onto this.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨1

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) nothing as yet.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: Yay, mob Clark. And I know what you’re saying right now, enough with Clark Kent! I get it haha. Promise, for a while, this will be the last I do of him. I have Lee fic in the work right now, the early development of medieval Peter, and I’m still sitting on some Loki ft. an exchange student... and then all my other series of course!

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You stood against the wall, chewing your lip as you looked around the gallery. You should be ecstatic, you should be floating around on a cloud, but all you could feel was crushing anxiety. It was truly a dream come true; your art hanging on the wall. Only three pieces, but it was there, and your name was below it in print.

You tugged on the waist of your dress and teetered in your heels. It was a borrowed outfit, you couldn’t afford anything appropriate to the upscale venue. The classic starving artist, or almost. You slipped your phone from your purse and up your sleeve. You subtly checked the time and for the little chat icon in the corner. Still no message.

Marcus was almost an hour late. He texted just after the event opened to warn you he was caught up with work but you worried he wouldn’t show up at all. It wasn’t his fault his boss was a jackass but you weren’t prepared to face this alone. You dropped your phone back into your slender purse and snapped it shut.

Vanessa, the gallery owner, made you flinch as she appeared almost out of the air. You smiled at her shyly and stopped chewing your lip.

“You should mingle,” she said, “you have an interested buyer. You might have a few more if you come out from the corner.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so nervous,” you confessed, “I-- thank you so much for this opportunity.”

“You earned it,” she touched your arm daintily, “all those hard hours working the back room, I couldn’t not hang a few pieces.”

You fixed your posture and tried to seem as confident as her. Your income came solely from hours of at-home data entry as you volunteered at the gallery in your few hours between. It was all worth it and maybe if you sold something tonight, Vanessa would feature you work again and you wouldn’t need to spend the bulk of your days staring at tiny font.

“So, where’s this buyer?” you asked hopefully.

“That’s my girl,” Vanessa trilled, “he seems very interested.”

She led you across the room, stopping to greet other artists and old friends with a kiss on the cheek and deep laughter. You’d met them all before as you were often working at these events. It was your first time as one of them.

When at last you neared your little stretch of the wall, a man stood with his head slightly back as he stared at your proto-renaissance portraits. He was tall and his broad shoulders strained the rich fabric of his jacket. His dark hair was neatly parted and a slight curl marked the front above the shadow of scruff poking out along his jawline.

“Mr. Kent,” Vanessa chimed, “I found her.”

He turned to look at you and his deep blue eyes struck you. He smiled between you and the gallery owner, his chiseled jaw even more defined by the gesture.

“This is Mr. Kent,” she introduced you in turn, “I believe he was interested in the larger piece.”

“All three, if you don’t have another buyer lined up,” he intoned, “I think they belong together.”

“All of them?” you raised your brows, “well, I, yeah, I guess--”

“We can put something together for you,” Vanessa interrupted your awkward stuttering, “let me just mark them.”

She took the silver pen she kept on a chain around her wrist and scribbled in the corner of the tags to mark them as sold. You were slightly numb at your disbelief. You were a bit reluctant to part with your work but the check would ease your grief.

“The way you use colours,” he said as he faced the paintings again, “I’ve recently had some work done in my house and I hate the sight of naked walls.”

“Thank you,” you said as you stepped a little closer and looked at your delicate strokes.

“Pardon me,” Vanessa rushed away as she beckoned to one of her assistants and prattled orders.

“Vanessa tells me you’re a new artist,” he said.

“New in a sense,” you said, “I guess, I’m officially an artist now.”

“Oh? I’m flattered. Your first buyer?”

“Besides some online fanart, yeah,” you replied, “so, Mr. Kent, what do you do?”

“Clark,” he corrected, “and a little bit of everything.”

An awkward silence took over and was thankfully interrupted by your name. You turned as Marcus rushed over and his shoes slipped on the polished floor. He reached you and kissed your cheek as he caught his breath.

“I’m so sorry, I got caught in traffic on the way over and then my oil light started flashing,” he gasped out.

“Hey, you’re here,” you rubbed his shoulder and straightened his tie without thinking as it hung at an angle.

“So, you sell anything yet?” he asked.

“Yes, actually, um, Mr-- Clark,” you gestured to the man standing patiently to the side, “he just bought all three.”

“Damn,” Marcus said, “guess I can hold onto my savings.”

“Marc,” you nudged his arm with your knuckles, “you know we can’t afford your cheesiness.”

“Sorry, uh,” Marcus laughed at himself, “I’m Marcus.”

He held out his hand and Clark shook it. His eyes strayed to you as his features sharpened just a little.

“You two…?” he ventured.

“Five years,” Marcus announced, “guess we’re going steady.”

“Oh,” Clark nodded placidly, “are you an artist too?”

“God no, I can hardly write my own name legibly,” Marcus kidded, “I’m a developer.”

“Computers,” Clark mused.

“Yeah, computers,” Marcus scoffed, “and you?”

“Own a couple businesses,” Clark shrugged.

“Must be successful if you can hang around here,” Marcus said and you elbowed him in embarrassment.

“I guess,” Clark smoothed his dark purple jacket and checked his watch, “I’ll let you two be. Maybe I’ll find something to go with these fine pieces.”

“Thank you,” you said sweetly, “I’m happy to see my work go to a good home.”

“I hope to see more in future,” he returned kindly.

He turned and carried on to the statue constructed of can tabs and greeted another suited man. You looked at Marcus as he leaned in to read the tags beneath your paintings. He stood and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Holy shit, ten grand?” he hissed.

“Pretty good pay for one night,” you chirped, “glad you could make it.”

“Sorry again, I… I had to redo some code. Adam was in a mood so,” he shook his head and sighed, “let’s not talk about it. Let’s celebrate.” He peeked over at the server with a tray of stemmed flutes, “and you can decide what you’re going to buy me with that check.”

“Hush,” you chided as you took a glass of champagne, “now is not the time to go over bills.”

🎨

At the end of the night, you watched one of the assistants take down your canvas and you helped wrap them in paper and twine. As you finished a loopy knot, you were surprised by the figure beside you. You looked up and set the smallest piece atop the larger ones. Clark smiled as you moved to let him pick them up.

“All yours,” you said, almost mournful to see them go.

“Thanks,” he said as he tucked them easily under his thick arm, “I forgot earlier but do you have a card? Are you open for commissions?”

“You must have a lot of walls,” you looked down and opened your purse, “I have a card and I could try a commission.”

You slid out one of the cards that had lingered in your wallet for more than a year. You handed it to him and he read the flowery font before tucking it away in his jacket.

“I do… have a lot of walls,” he said with a smirk, “I’ll give you a call once these are hung.”

“O-okay,” you kept from wringing your hands and closed your purse, “thank you… again.”

“My pleasure,” assured, “have a good night.”

“Yeah, good night,” you said and watched him go.

You let out a breath and smiled to yourself. You would talk to Vanessa and get your cut of the check before you went. Then you could worry about getting Marcus home. He’d had a little too much champagne and you’d left him in the backroom so you could help with the clean-up.

Vanessa bid goodbye to one of her featured artists as you neared. She turned to you and threw up her hands in delight.

“Wonderful, darling,” she said, “you earned that wall.”

“Thanks,” you grinned bashfully.

“Really. That man has never bought a piece before,” she smirked, “I’ve been dying to get into his wallet for years.”

“I never saw him before…”

“Oh, well, yes, he has not been to many of these either. I often see him at other galleries,” she explained, “I hope you have some more for the next.”

“Um, yeah, I should be able to--”

“I’ll have the check for you tomorrow,” she patted your shoulder as her eye was caught by another, “go get your boyfriend out of my studio.”

You accepted your dismissal and turned on your heel. That was just Vanessa, steely but slightly flighty as well. Besides, you were exhausted and you would likely be dragging Marcus into a cab.

You found him slumped at the paint-splattered table. You shook him awake and smiled dopily as he opened his eyes.

“Babe,” he pushed his arm around you.

“Marcus,” you drawled in disappointment, “let’s get out of here.”

“Huh?” He looked around and hiccupped, “oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. You had a long day,” you assured him as you rubbed his back and let him lean on you as he stood, “I’m just happy you showed up after all that nonsense.”

“Of course, babe,” he slurred and you helped him through the door.

You kept your head down as you slowly sneaked out past Vanessa but you didn’t miss her side-eye. It was best to be as covert as possible. You came out through the door and nearly dropped Marcus.

“Jesus, can I get a little help?” you snipped as you looked around for a yellow cab.

“Sorry, baby, sorry,” he got his feet flat but it hardly helped take his weight off of you.

You raised your hand to hail a cab and he slipped down your arm. Your ankle bent as you turned to try to catch him before you dropped him entirely. He was saved from hitting the ground as he was caught by another. You looked over his head as he was pushed up to his feet again. 

Clark kept his arm behind Marcus as you stared at him, “oh my god, thank you.”

“No problem,” he said as he steadied your boyfriend, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied as you lifted your foot and kept the weight off your ankle, “I just need to get a taxi.” You raised your hand again as you tried to see past the large man, “if you don’t mind getting him in--”

“You can ride with me,” he said brusquely as he turned with Marcus and peered back at you, “this way.”

“We can’t--”

“On that ankle,” he said as you began to limp after him, “you won’t get him out on your own.”

“Really, I’m fine--”

“I don’t mind,” he said coolly as he came to a silver sports car and balanced Marcus against him as he opened the door, “I’ll need an address.”

“Uh, oh,” you folded your hands, “thank you. Really, you’ve done too much.”

“It happens. I’ve had these nights,” he put Marcus across the seat and folded his legs up and shut the door, “you can take the front and tell me where I’m going.”

You hesitated and he opened the front door. You neared and hissed as you stumbled on your ankle. You caught yourself on his arm and quickly retracted your hand as you apologized. 

“It’s alright,” he said as you sat in the front seat. He knelt and gently took your ankle. His thumb rubbed the swollen joint, “you really banged yourself up.”

“I’ll be okay,” you assured him, “thanks.”

He let go and stood. He waited for you to turn your legs into the car and gently closed the door. He rounded to the other side and got in as he fished around for his keys. He turned the engine and gripped the wheel with one hand as he took out his phone. He placed it on the magnetic holder and his fingers flicked over the screen.

“Address?” he asked.

You recited it and winced as Siri responded, ‘calculating route’. You shrunk against the luxury leather and glanced at him. He let out a huff and steered into the mostly empty street.

“I’m sorry about all this--”

“No, don’t be,” he glanced in the rearview, “he must be happy for you.”

“Yeah, uh, I think he is,” you said as he followed the map directions, “I am too. I mean, it will go along way… uh, well, you know, things can be tough or--” you shrugged, “I mean, it’s not about the money.”

“Yeah, but it’s nice to be paid,” he said lightly, “and I don’t mind paying for good art.”

You looked out the window as your cheeks burned. You could smell his cologne, subtle but strong. You played with your purse as your nerves brewed in your chest. You watched the sidewalks and the street lights as your surroundings grew more familiar.

He pulled up to your building. It wasn’t the greatest area and the brick façade was faded and cracked. Before you could get out, he was at your door. He offered his hand and helped you out as you leaned on the car. He let you go and opened the back and lifted Marcus out. He hooked your boyfriend’s arm over his shoulder and offered his other arm.

“Come on,” he said.

“Look, you don’t-- there’s an elevator.”

“I’d feel better if I got you inside,” he insisted, “especially in this area.”

You relented and took his arm and limped beside him up the steps. You took out your keys and went ahead of him as he dragged Marcus in. You went to the elevator and hit the button. The doors glided open and you stepped inside. He stood close in the small metal box and Marcus murmured dumbly at his side.

The doors dinged and he let you out first. He followed you down the hall and you unlocked your apartment and waved him inside. He carried Marcus to the couch at your direction and you leaned against the armchair as you bent your leg to check your ankle.

“You should put some ice on that,” Clark said as he neared, “get some sleep yourself.”

“Yeah, I will,” you assured, “thank you, again.”

You felt embarrassed as you eyed his expensive suit and looked around your tiny apartment. It must have been laughable to him. He hardly seem bothered as he retreated to the door.

“I’ll let you then,” he said, “and thank you. I really do like your work.”

The door shut in his stead and you heard his footsteps down the long hall until the door at the end swung open. You glanced at Marcus and shook your head. You weren’t as happy to have had him at the show then.

[minsyal]

The Fugitive: Finding Home, Pt. 2

Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Warnings: strong language, Resident Evil-esque violence and descriptions of gore, and dark/sexual themes

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime trip turned dark. You're quickly exposed to the sinister and mysterious world of a cursed village under the control of dark leaders. How long will you last and will you ever return home in one piece?

The Fugitive: Finding Home Masterlist

Part 1 - The Beginning

“Mother Miranda, I’ve been requesting new maids for at least six months to this day.”

“That’s because you keep eating your other ones.”

You were shaken awake.

“I think that my castle would be best suited for her.”

“Oh, so you can bleed ‘er dry? You think that would really be the best use of anyone’s time?” A familiar voice retorted.

“Good morning!” A shrill voice squeaked as what felt like wood kicked at your face. “She’s up! She’s up! She’s up!” It exclaimed excitedly with a bounce, the voice became softer as the skittering of feet scrambled away.

“Ah,” the unfamiliar smooth woman’s voice cooed as your eyes adjusted to your surroundings. There were what looked to be six figures in the room. Miranda stood before you, perched upon a stage-like area that once housed what you could only imagine was a priest or preacher. To the left sat a cloaked woman with a blob of white resting in her lap. Another woman, also adorned in a white garb, sat towering over the rest, the light constant trickle of smoke danced upward from her vintage cigarette holder. On your right sat a familiar face, the man from the village who had saved you only a few hours prior. You’d come to know him as Lord Heisenberg. He maintained the large woman’s gaze, but the look held no love or any remote sense of familial belonging. Instead, his eyes were set ablaze, even behind the shaded rims of his glasses. Lastly, a shorter creature with a large hunched back moved ungracefully around. Its long gangly arms accompanied by its deformed face only aided in the growing unease.

The dull ache of your shoulder only distracted you from the bindings of your wrists for a moment. Your attention was quickly drawn to the rough ropes that dug their thorny threads into the soft skin of your wrists. Everything ached, mentally and physically.

“I do think she would be best suited with me.” The tall woman repeated herself. “There’s no doubt Moreau wouldn’t be able to handle her, and likely not the rest of you either.”

The hunched creature whirled back, throwing a forlornly glare in the woman’s direction. You supposed that was Moreau.

“You think I couldn’t handle her?” Heisenberg shot back, bent forward to rest his weight on his heels. His relationship with the large woman was clearly tumultuous given his outburst and her subsequent reaction.

“You always get them.” The shrill voice called. It was the doll; the fucking doll was talking... not that this should surprise you at this point. “She should come with us! We need more friends.”

“You’re not included in this conversation.” The tall woman mocked with a fierce glare shot violently at the doll as its mouth hung slack.

“Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” Thus far, nobody had managed to answer your simple question. The lot turned toward you, the majority with piercing stares. “Guess not.” You muttered, becoming quite fed up with the range of emotions you had been experiencing over the past day. If it kept going in this direction, you’d surely have to be treated for whiplash.

“She’s already proven to be a considerable pain in my neck.” Miranda loudly projected. Her steps were a clear juxtaposition to her tone, falling light on the church floor as she approached. “One villager is unable to walk, another dead.”

“Dead?” The words fell before you could stop yourself. She didn’t answer.

“Please,” Heisenberg leaned back once more, his hand moving to the interior of his jacket, “the dumb thing practically laid down when she was attacked by a lycan.” His fingers fumbled around the darkened paper of a cigar. Yellow, blonde streaks flashed upon his face as the distinguishable clink of a metal lighter was flicked. “I wouldn’t call that too capable.”

“My friend pushed me.” You argued, once again mentally reeling for the outburst.

Heisenberg let out a huff of smoke, intentionally blowing it in the tall woman’s direction, “sounds like a piss poor friend.”

“Enough.” Miranda had taken to her spot at the front near the alter once more. “The girl shall go to Alcina.”

A wicked smile crossed the tall woman’s face. “Thank you, Mother Miranda. It is so good to have you back.”

“Where are you from?” One of the girls ushered you through the depths of the castle. She wore a simple gown with stitches at the bottom, holding together the frail fabric that looked to be decades old.

“America.”

The girl cocked her head to the side like a newborn. “I don’t know of that town.”

Upon arrival you were escorted down to what was described as the maids’ chambers. In a small stone room, you were assigned a cot, given a chest, and told to change into uniform. Your arm ached and spasmed as you lifted the lid of the trunk open. Somewhere between being shot by the villagers and being transported to Castle Dimitrescu, the bullet was removed from your shoulder and replaced with gauze that limited the mobility of your arm. The distinct oily feeling of grease caused friction between the bandages and your clothes; the ache of alcohol still stung, causing a sore numbness.

The Lady insisted all maids conform to the strict code of dress. Long, unflattering dresses, short heels, and sometimes a headscarf if hair wasn’t pulled tautly into a bun at the base of one’s neck were a few things to name the least. You always wore the headscarf, which was a thin piece of grey lace that attached at the peak of your hairline, cascading over your shoulders to land at waist-length.

The rest of the day passed slowly. You learned the ins and outs of the castle, became acquainted with the sparse staff that only consisted of women, and met Alcina’s daughters from a distance. The next two weeks passed the same way.

Wake up, clean the castle, serve Lady and her daughters, go to bed. That was your routine. Though, the sounds that seeped from the halls at night prompted unwavering curiosity. Heisenberg had mentioned the ill-fated maids that had the luxury of serving the Dimitrescu women back in that church. Nothing at this point had you doubting that was the case. But you assured yourself daily that you would not accept the castle’s fate; you would get out of here one way or another.

You had only been at the mercy of Lady Dimitrescu once to this day. A small spat broke out between maids and the arrival of the head of house had the women squealing lies of how you were the one to start it.

“She stole our rations!” The girl with the wide nose accused her chubby finger outstretched in your direction.

“I didn’t steal anything, you dirty fucking liar.”

“She did. We were squabbling over how she should be punished.” The other girl replied, tucking a shaking hand behind her back as she straightened her poor posture.

“A thief,” Alcina regarded you, “that’s a shame.” Knives skid across the thin skin of your forearm. “Another outburst like this and there will be harsher consequences.” Red stained her tongue as she ran the claw through her cherry-red lips.

As she sauntered down the hall and out of sight, you uncurled your arm from your chest, wincing at the large crimson stain it left on your dress.

“Fresh face.” The words ricocheted off the wall in front of you. Footsteps steadfastly approached from behind. He walked with an effortless swagger, legs slightly bowed with each lyrical step. You’d gone for the quiet route after the situation, finding that silence often pleased those that ruled over the castle. “Here I was thinkin’ it would take you a little longer to lose that fight.” He stepped closer; the unmissable smell of tobacco seeped from his lips. “Looks like I was wrong.”

Instead of words, you held his gaze through unimpressed eyes. Hues of yellows, greys, and greens met yours from beneath his rounded glasses. You could see more of him from here. A large scar ran from the right of his face to the left, the lifted skin healing over leaving memories of whatever had happened. In fact, the majority of his face was plagued with scars. One ran from the bottom of his lip down to his chin, disappearing beneath the stubble of his beard. You wondered if his disdain toward Alcina was founded by those wretched claws of hers. His hair was wirey with shades of brown and peppered grey streaking through the ends. Quite honestly, he was an attractive man.

“I’ve got a name, you know?”

“I don’t think I cared to ask.”

“Then I suppose you aren’t deserving of one either.”

“Well,” he tapped at your chest with a gloved finger, “I think you’ve got a little spunk left in you, sweetheart.”

“Call me Y/n.”

“No last name?” He deadpanned.

“L/n.”

He nodded, but you felt as though your words had passed through him like a ghost.

“Karl.” He gave a lazy bow, tilting the rim of his hat. “But I think you probably already knew that.”

“Gossip and information don’t come easily from the maids here. Sorry,” you pressed your lips together, “I didn’t know.”

Karl gave a shrug.

“Do you know what happened to my friend?” The thought had been playing on your mind for the past few weeks.

He raised an inquisitive brow and turned his head to peer out the shaded window. “The so-called friend that left you to become lycan chow?” A hearty tut left his chest. “I think she’s assimilated into the town.”

“Dumb bitch.” You breathed.

“There’s that spark.” He stood tall with an artificial sense of pride. It had been a long time since somebody in the village was willing to use such crude language in front of any of the Lords, let alone Miranda. It almost astonished him that they’d let you live after the killing of Adelina’s brother. The gun misfired; it wasn’t really your fault.

Another week of growing suspicions and two newly missing maids, you finally attempted to seek out the dungeons that everyone spoke of but warned to stray from. You had to know what was going on here.

“Lost?” Heisenberg’s voice appeared at your right side. His chin almost rested upon your shoulder; the stubble of his beard scratched at your neck. “This isn’t a place I’d get lost in if I were you. In fact, it’s not even a place you should be exploring.”

“Are you going to run to Alcina if I do?” You didn’t face him, why would you? The hallway was cramped, restricting of any sort of movement other than in the direction you were going.

“Me?” He leaned backward to stand at full height. Your body cursed silently, wishing nothing more than to have him close again. How he wasn’t hitting his head on the rafter just inches above floored you. “I hate that bitch. You do what you want, but I won’t bail you out when you get caught.”

“Good thing I don’t plan on being caught then.” You descended the metal ladder, only looking upward for a moment to catch a glimpse of Heisenberg leaning over the opening. An eerie smile was plastered on his lips, it was almost smug.

The dungeons were as you imagined. Cold water trickled down some of the walls, likely due to cracks in the castle’s foundation accompanied by the ever melting of the outside snow. It smelled of mothballs and garlic, something musty was clinging to the air. You noted a few turns here and there, attempting to memorize the path you had taken in case you needed to make a swift escape. What didn’t help was the skid of your maid’s clothes along the rigid floor.

Muffled cries put you further onto the edge. The narrow hall gave way to a large room filled with arched stonework. Metal bars shot from floor to ceiling, hinges creaked as the sound of hands banging against them filled your eardrums. You didn’t want to go further, scared of any repercussions should any of the jailed women recognize and rat you out.

Turning to head to the ladder, you collided with a chest. “Leaving so soon?” Heisenberg again.

“Shh!” You slapped at his chest with a closed fist, only realizing what you had done when the action was completed. He looked rightfully amused. Everything that you had learned of these “Lords” up to now told you to act less casually with him, to put on an air of respect at the very least. But there was something surprisingly human about him. Something that told you it was okay despite it potentially not being so. At this point, you were only prolonging the inevitable.

“What?” He started, swiftly being cut off by approaching footsteps. Firm hands grasped at your arms, pulling your face forward into his chest. “Open your mouth and I’ll feed you to whatever’s coming.” He said through his teeth, trapping your arms between your two bodies.

The room grew dim, the wall behind your back became close even though you had not moved at all. Heisenberg’s grip was strong on your forearms, causing you to inaudibly hiss as his thumb dug into the slash Alcina had left weeks prior. The footsteps were accompanied by the soft cries of a woman, gasping pleas of being let go falling silent on the ears of her assailant. A minute passed; the dungeon fell soundless.

“You can breathe now.” His lips lingered close to your ear, once again sending a rush of chills crawling down your skin. He knew what he was doing.

“I’ve been breathing.” You breathily retorted sounding as if you had just run a marathon.

“Whatever you say, doll.”

The wall behind you gave way, moving on its own. You turned; the materials that had been pressed to your back laid themselves on the ground. Heisenberg’s smile was unmissable. “Go ahead.” His voice was gravely, gruff, a slight melancholy dismay underlying. Heisenberg desired for you to implore what just happened, but you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You refused to see him as anything but normal, for if you did give in to the village’s mental games, you’d likely find yourself going mad. He was a man, you told yourself, nothing more.

“I thought you weren’t going to bail me out?”

“I wasn’t.” He tightened his grip on your arms. “But I figured it’d be a shame to lose such a pretty face so soon.”

“I, I’m sure you say that to all the girls here.” You couldn’t hold his gaze at this distance. Perhaps Adelina was right, you were rather frumpy and unexperienced.

A huff came as he exhaled, a thoughtful tug of his lips upward accompanied it. He didn’t answer, a reoccurring event with those who inhabited this town.

Heisenberg had been keeping his trips to and from the castle a secret. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure why he felt so inclined to bother with the outsider woman who appeared in the village one fateful evening. Perhaps he was growing bored of his daily routine with no results to show. Maybe he was enticed by the well of knowledge you held of the outside world. Maybe it was something else, something human. The Lord’s weren’t allowed to stray far from the village. The other three lived delightfully oblivious, completely okay with never exploring the unknown. Heisenberg, on the other hand, was not. Your friend, Jess as he recalled you calling her, was far from interesting to him. It didn’t take a genius to tell how low her I.Q. had to be. She conformed easily to the village and by all accounts had been down talking you to the others she met. She quickly fell into the same brainwashed daze of worship.

It had been another turbulent week of utter chaos around every corner. Nobody knew of your adventure into the depths of Castle Dimitrescu and you had no intentions of spreading any gossip among the maids. They all seemed to have it out for you anyway. You were the “outsider,” as one described it. It was so blatantly evident to them that you were not going to conform to their ways. And that disturbed them.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t your fair share of punishment to this point. In actuality, you had received a significantly greater amount of beratements and surface wounds from Alcina and her daughters. You thought to Heisenberg often, continually wondering how your life would differ had Miranda bestowed you upon him. He was irresistibly charming in his own twisted sense. Every word that escaped his mouth heavily contradicted his actions. You received a good number of swats to the hand stemming from woeful daydreaming of the man you hardly knew.

He could be dangerous, you’d tell yourself before slipping into yet another sequence of fervent and unrelenting thoughts stemming from the mysterious man. He was a Lord, one placed in a top position according to the village’s hierarchy. You just weren’t sure why.

There had been countless times the man had sauntered into the castle, “accidentally” run into you, and held brief conversation.

The other maids were assholes. Though you had concluded this swiftly upon entering the castle, their recent actions only solidified your feelings.

It had been only a day since Heisenberg’s last visit. He strolled into the castle, easing his way past the maids as they hurriedly passed by. They paid him no mind. The evening sun had begun to set in the sky. Lady Dimitrescu had gone out for the night, instructing her girls to hold down the castle while she was away. The three of them had descended into the dungeons, not to be seen again until morning. This left the halls free and roamable for the savvy Lord.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Your voice caught his attention. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Marybeth.”

Shrill voices argued back and forth behind the kitchen doors. The sound of muffled giggles fell on his ears; it was an unusual sound within the castle walls. The girls must be relaxed knowing they’re safe from punishment tonight. At least, that’s what they thought.

In a second, the hinges of the door burst off, sending the heavy frame crashing down to the tiled floor. Shrieks came quickly and died on their lips as soon as the girls realized who was there.

“Lord Heisenberg.” One woman bowed her head, concealing something within her hands as she placed them in her lap, clasped tightly together. “Lady Dimitrescu has left for the evening.”

“I know.” His brow raised at the scene set before him. You stood to the rear of the kitchen, clearly irate at something the woman who regarded him had done. Five other women were huddled with the one who spoke, following her lead and averting their gazes. No aroma of cuisine drifted from the empty cauldron, only the stale scent of curing meats clung to the air.

“What’s going on in here?” He looked directly at you from beneath the lid of his hat.

“We were cleaning the kitchen.” The maid spoke through shaking breaths.

After a pensive moment, he waved his hand. “You’re dismissed. Except,” he held his hand at your chest as you attempted to pass, “you.”

The girls stumbled over the door, making quick work of getting back to their quarters and away from the Lord. You listened as the audience of feet trampled away. None of the girls here knew how to walk in heels causing for a rather elephant-like clomping of shoes wherever they went.

“What really happened?”

“Do you care?”

“Not particularly, but color me curious.”

“Don’t get them in trouble.” You demanded through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to deal with the aftermath.”

He chortled. “You seem more afraid of them than you are of me.”

“You’ve not given me a reason to be scared.”

Your back pressed to the wall, a glass chalice fell, shattering against the floor. The lapels of his jacket and dog tags pushed to your chest were still cold from the frosted night air. “Do I need to give you a reason?”

“I just,” embarrassment rose in your cheeks, “would you stop doing this?” There was no budging the man. His strength far outweighed yours, easily acting as if your pushing against his chest was nothing but a soft breeze.

“Doing what?” A smirk grew on his lips. God, he loved this.

“This!” Your clenched fist banged on his chest, not rattling him in the slightest. Droplets of claret liquid ran from your palm to your elbow. “Dammit, Karl. Move.”

The use of his first name was new. A solid hand closed around your wrist, bringing it up to eye level. He tilted back, adjusting his vision. The raise of his brow signaled that he wanted you to open your hand. Complying, you cringed as the reddened skin screamed for relief.

“They did this?”

“It’s no different from the other injuries I’ve gotten here.”

“It’s deep.” He reached into the pocket of his trench coat. “Don’t let anyone know you’ve got this.” A silver tin slipped from his hand to yours, you pried at its ridges with your nail.

Heisenberg disappeared after that, taking off with a dramatic throw of the castle doors as he disappeared into the dense forest. He had given you a tin of salve and a bandage.

“Lady Dimitrescu has requested your presence.”

The Fugitive: Finding Home Part 3 - Foreign Thoughts

I'm so excited for where this fic is going...

Feedback is always appreciated

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@ambiguous-g @ren-ni @metaphorical-love-for-a-car @lgbtomatoes

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #286: Illyasviel von Einzbern (Archer)

Today on Fate and Phantasms we're really kicking summer vacation into overdrive! None of that anime nonsense Kiara's got kicking around, just pure, unbridled summer fun with Illyasviel von Einzbern (Archer).

This build's got three parts to it; first and foremost, the water guns. Secondly, if you're going comedy mode you've got to make sure everything works out for you in the end. Finally, unlimited magical power, she is still the grail incarnate after all.

So of course we're going with sorlock. That's right, this time around Illya is a Silverquill Warlock to put that infinite energy to good use and a Divine Soul Sorcerer to still grab a magical girl transformation by the end of things.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: I ache for the touch of your lips, dear/ but much more for the touch of your whips, dear/ you can raise welts/ like nobody else/ as we dance to the masochism tango!

Race and Background

For the first time in just about ever, we're actually changing up a servant's race between versions! Simply put, we're not dumping constitution this time around so we don't need the tough feat out the gate. On top of that, what we need from the Lightfoot Halfling race is much more pressing- Sure, the +2 Dexterity and +1 Charisma are nice, but we're here for the Lucky feature, which lets you re-roll a natural one on any d20 roll and use the new version.

You're also Brave, giving you advantage on saves against being frightened. Something tells me that'll come in handy this event.

Your Halfling Nimbleness lets you move through the spaces of creatures larger than you, and you're Naturally Stealthy so you can hide even if you're only hidden by a creature larger than you.

Also, I doubt I really need to say this, but Halflings are Small, so those last two abilities have a lot more use than they would on say, a human.

The one thing that hasn't changed is that you're still an Inheritor, giving you proficiency in Survival and History. We're just changing your entire genetic code, not your childhood, calm down.

Ability Scores

Illya's magic is innate, so her highest score is in Charisma, naturally. Children are also very slippery, especially when you're trying to keep them from playing outside, so her Dexterity is great as well. Playing in the sun all day means you need a good Constitution (or some good sunscreen, either or), and picking out targets is a Wisdom skill. This does mean your Intelligence is a lot lower than normal- it's summer break after all. Finally, we're dumping Strength. Illya is baby, she's not going to be hurling cars around.

Class Levels

1. Warlock 1: We're heading to summer camp, but before that we have to finish our Silverquill homework! Finishing that up makes you an Eloquent Apprentice, so you learn the Sacred Flame cantrip plus you get proficiency in Performance and Persuasion (on top of Wisdom and Charisma saves, Arcana, and Deception from starting as a warlock).

The real reason we're here though is for the Silvery Barbs feature. After a nearby creature succeeds on an attack, check, or save, you can use your reaction to make them re-roll that roll as if they're being charmed, forcing them to use the lower result. Once this makes someone mess up, you can't use it again until you finish a long rest or spend a spell slot on it. Making someone fail also lets you make another creature succeed, giving a second creature (possibly yourself) the ability to reroll an attack, check, or save and use the higher roll at some point in the next minute.

Oh right, we need spell slots for that to work. Thankfully we have Pact Magic, giving you one 1st level spell slot! You can cast spells using your Charisma, with cantrips like Eldritch Blast and True Strike working as your water gun, Armor of Agathys helping you track water on everything you touch after I just cleaned the house you little gremlin, and Comprehend Languages for being smart. You are still smart, you just don't use it much over the summer break.

You're also Favoured by the Gods, so once per short rest you can add 2d4 to a failed save or attack to try and not fail.

2. Warlock 2: Second level warlocks get Eldritch Invocations to customize their summer camp experience. Grab Agonizing Blast and Repelling Blast for a high-pressure water gun. The former adds your charisma modifier to the damage of each eldritch blast, while the latter lets you push the target back up to 10' away.

Now that I'm thinking about it that's just better Lance of Lethargy, since it works on every blast rather than once per turn.

Anyways.

Your spell this level is Expeditious Retreat, making it even easier for you to bolt outside and play the second it's an option.

3. Sorcerer 1: Okay, now that school's out let's have some fun! As a Divine Soul sorcerer you get access to Divine Magic, adding Cure Wounds to your spell list for free and you can pick from cleric Spells when you level up!

Speaking of, you get a second spell list that also uses your Charisma. Pact slots and Spell slots don't mix- you have the same number of slots as if you were a second level warlock and a first level sorcerer, no multiclassing tables required. Thankfully, you can use warlock slots for any sorcerer features and vice-versa.

Enough complexity though, now let's talk magic. Pick up Frostbite and Poison Spray for two kinds of sprays from Ruby. Speaking of, Ruby can run off on her own and mess with objects as a Mage Hand. If you want even more assurance that you'll pass a check, check out Guidance or a first level spell like Bless for a 1d4 bonus to one check or any check you make in the duration respectively. You can also use Mage Armor to not die, if you really want to.

4. Sorcerer 2: Second level sorcerers are Fonts of Magic, giving you sorcery points equal to your sorcery level. You can turn points into spell slots or vice-versa, but technically the more interesting stuff happens next level. All the points and extra slots reset after a long rest, btw.

I say technically, because we have just unlocked the secret of infinite spell power. Like I said last level, you can use warlock slots for sorcery features like font of magic, so you can turn warlock slots into points, then take a short rest and get them back without resetting anything. So turn your points into sorcerer slots and repeat each short rest. Now, you have infinite spell slots. Over time. After all, you only get two points per short rest, so that's one 1st level spell slot per hour, and it'll take four hours for a fifth level slot once you can cast those spells. Definitely a downtime activity.

Anyway, grab some Magic Missile this level for some archer balls. They're like caster balls, but a knight class!

5. Sorcerer 3: Third level sorcerers get second level spells like Dragon's Breath, letting you shoot out cold damage as an action each turn in a 15' cone. It's not high-pressure, but this will fill your tank for up to a minute. Aside from that you can also use those sorcery points for Metamagic, customizing your spells. Heightened spells force disadvantage on one creature's first save. Blasting someone in the face with water only has one save. Transmuted spells are especially funky, letting you turn once elemental kind of damage into another. Ruby's already got water and poison settings, why not make her a flamethrower too?

Oh right, German, sorry. I meant you can make her a flammenwerfer. That's right, you can werf flammen in D&D now! The wonders of technology!

6. Sorcerer 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to bump up your Charisma for even stronger spells.

...Admittedly this doesn't help any of the spells we get this level, but it's good in general. Resistance lets you add a d4 to the next save you make. We're aiming for "comically burnt" from this fireball, not "actually dead". That's a mood killer. You can also Enhance Ability, giving you advantage on all skill checks of a certain kind for up to an hour. If you pick endurance, the target also gets temporary HP. If you pick strength their carrying capacity doubles, and if you pick dexterity they don't take falling damage on falls of 20' or less.

7. Sorcerer 5: Fifth level sorcerers get Magical Guidance, letting you spend a sorcery point to get advantage on one skill check, further reducing your chances of failing at just about anything.

You can also cast Haste to speed up your summer fun even further with doubled movement speed, an extra action, and a bonus to your AC and dexterity saves. This will tire you out though, and when the spell ends you need to take a round off actions and reactions.

8. Sorcerer 6: Sixth level divine souls have Empowered Healing- whenever a nearby creature casts a healing spell, you can spend a sorcery point to re-roll a number of those dice. This doesn't use your reaction, but it only works once a turn.

You remember how I said Eldritch Blast was a high-pressure water gun? I lied. Lightning Bolt sure is, though. Just make sure you transmute it to do cold damage before you point that thing anywhere- it'll deal 8d6 of lightning damage in a 100' line otherwise.

9. Sorcerer 7: At seventh level sorcerers get fourth level spells like Freedom of Movement! Have you ever tried to hold onto a kid while their friends were playing outside? Exactly.

10. Sorcerer 8: Eighth level sorcerers get another ASI, and as an Elemental Adept you'll find your water guns firing much more powerfully. Now, all your cold spells ignore resistance, and the minimum damage they can do per die is 2 rather than one.

While you're not one for buffing the whole team, you can give one hell of a Motivational Speech to the kiddos. If you spend a minute hyping them up to play, up to five nearby creatures get temporary HP and advantage on wisdom saves. Additionally, if a creature gets hit by an attack they gain advantage on their next attack roll. The spell lasts for an hour for each creature, or until their temporary HP is used up.

11. Sorcerer 9: Now that we have fifth level spell slots we have the perfect opportunity to test out that feat we got by using Cone of Cold, spraying out 8d8 cold damage in a 60' cone to each creature that fails a constitution save.

12. Sorcerer 10: At tenth level you get another metamagic option like Extended spells, which double the length of a spell. You might have infinite slots, but that's not excuse to be wasteful.

Now that you've spent plenty of time at summer camp you've probably learned how to Create Bonfire, creating a fire nearby filling a 5' cube. Any creature in the space when you cast the spell or that moves through the space needs to make a dexterity save or take fire damage.

You're also still clever enough to recall Legend Lore, letting you cast a 5th level spell over 10 minutes to learn lore of a legendary item, person, or place, where the more you know already increases the potency of the spell. Again, Illya's still smart, it's just not something she's focused on at the moment. She's had history classes. I assume. Admittedly I don't know that much about the Japanese school system, but still!

13. Sorcerer 11: Now that we have access to sixth level spells we can properly turn into a magical girl with Tasha's Otherworldly Guise. By harnessing the power of the upper planes, you become immune to radiant and necrotic damage, as well as the charmed condition. You also get a flying speed, another bonus to AC, and your weapons attacks are magical and can be used twice per action. We didn't pick up a pact blade this time, but if you want to use old-school Ruby now it's an option.

14. Sorcerer 12: Twelfth level sorcerers don't get a spell, but your Ability Score Improvement will make your spells stronger now that your Charisma is maxed out!

15. Sorcerer 13: Now we're getting into the big spells. Grab Prismatic Spray to blast your enemies with the biggest Splash Rainbow known to man, dealing 10d6 of various elemental splashes, or petrifying/banishing enemies in the way. If you want the rainbow with less randomness, use Transmuted spell to guarantee cold damage. Or the petrification and banishment. It's not a perfect replacement, but 6/8 times it's fine.

16. Sorcerer 14: If you'd rather not use spells to turn into a magical girl, your Angelic Form aught to keep you airborne. It gives you a slightly slower flying speed, but they last until you don't want them and they don't take a sixth level slot.

17. Sorcerer 15: This level is where you would get an eighth level spell... If I liked any of them. I don't, so grab Fizban's Platinum Shield instead for your own protection. You get a bonus to your AC, resistance to elemental damage, and have evasion. You can also pass this to other creatures, if you want to be a team player.

18. Sorcerer 16: Use your last ASI to become Resilient with Constitution saves, giving you proficiency in them and also rounding out your constitution score for an extra 18 HP. No point spending all your magic on a water gun if it just falls out of your hands when you take damage.

19. Sorcerer 17: Seventeenth level sorcerers get one last metamagic option, and Distant spells will help you become a proper archer by doubling the range of your spells.

With access to ninth level spells, you can finally use the most powerful water gun in the world! Transmute Meteor Swarm and blast entire cities with tons of cold and bludgeoning damage, an-

Oh. Okay. I guess Mass Heal is a good option too. You can hand out up to 700 hit points as you wish, and any creatures who get hp from this spell also is cured of all disease and are un-blinded and deafened.

20. Sorcerer 18: Our last level of sorcery doesn’t net you any new spells, but your Unearthly Recovery is still pretty useful. If you’re at half HP or lower you can regain half your max HP as a bonus action once a day! It stinks that we didn’t get any invincibility like in your kit, but your healing factor should more than make up the difference.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

Having infinite spell slots is always a plus on a caster, especially on a caster that is both healing the party and dealing damage. Also, while this isn't in it's own category it's worth mentioning you have much more health than your usual self, so you can stay in the fight much longer.

You're also practically immune to failure, re-rolling 1s and adding up to 2d4 to anything else, with advantage from either Magical Guidance or Enhance Ability. If you set out to do something, odds are it's getting done.

Flight on a caster is always amazing, especially blaster casters with distant spell and ways to mess with enemies' movement. Zip around the field, knock people 40' back into pits or whatever, fun for the whole family.

Cons:

Actually getting those infinite spell slots is a nightmare, since you only get 2 points per short rest. That's four hours of rest for a single fifth level spell slot.

Plus, we didn't even pick up Greater Restoration (though you could replace Tasha's Guise with that after you get your wings), so you can't even avoid the fatigue that comes with staying up so late! I mean yeah it's not a school night, but that's going to catch up with you!

...You're short, so your walking speed is lower? I don't know what to tell you. You fly so you basically ignore regular combat, and you're protected from elemental damage with Fizban's Shield. Just don't get eaten by a dragon and you're fine.

[caiuscassiuss]

oppa! | ot7 (I)

Description: Being raised by a caring yet distant father, a close, tight-knit family is the one thing you have craved in your short life. After your adventurer father remarries a rich woman, you’re stuck with seven new brothers. Seven very hot, very different men. This is not what you meant by family.

Arc 1: Stepbrother Introductions

Genre: OT7 x Female!Reader | Brother’s Conflict AU | stepbrother au | fluff | slice of life (For this chapter: PG 13) WC: 15k Warnings: swearing, dub-con (??). In later chapters there will be explicit mentions of depression, panic attacks, thoughts of suicide, self harm, and graphic smut.

Chapter 1: Enter the Oldest Type, Jin!

Fiddling with the charm on your phone, you looked down at the blue text bubble that spelled out the address of what might possibly be your home for the next few years.

You had googled the place as soon as you got home, expecting it to be a random apartment somewhere and boy oh boy, you were wrong. First, the house (not apartment) was on the outskirts of Seoul, on one of the hilly inclines overlooking the Han River. Second, the place where it was located was expensive.

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you saw the housing prices of properties nearby on this popular real estate app. Sure, your father was a celebrity adventurer with his own cable show and so you were used to a certain amount of comfort, but this type of wealth was way beyond your league. Who was this woman that your father married, Jesus Christ?

On the Google streets view (you swear you aren’t weird), you saw the place had at least 2 gates to get through and your father hadn’t told you of any code or given you any pass to get through. You had a feeling if you tried to go in there blind, you would be immediately detained by the police.

Biting your lip, you paced on the fluffy carpet that felt like a dream. Your father was gallivanting off in some remote corner of Nigeria, so he was bound to have no cell service there. You knew no one in the family— much less how to contact them so you could meet up for a coffee or something. It would seem rude not to do something…

Your apartment doorbell buzzed throughout your apartment. Folding your arms over your chest, you shivered as you walked towards the doorway. You had turned up the Air Conditioner too high to ward off the muggy Seoul heat and now it was freezing inside your apartment.

“Hello?” you asked in to the intercom.

“Hi, is this Y/N?” a masculine voice asked at the other end.

You frowned and shifted your weight on your other leg. You don’t recall expecting any guests today.

“Excuse me?” the man asked again after you refused to respond.

“Hi, sorry, who is calling?” you said politely.

“I’m Seokjin, Seoyeon’s son. I’m your, uh, new brother?” he said haltingly, his voice raised at the end.

Gasping softly, you felt your mind pile up with questions and questions until it was spinning. How did he get here? How did you know who you are?

“Oh! Uh, yeah, please come on up.”

You pressed the button to allow the elevator to go to your location and you heard a bright “Thank you!” before the intercom shut off.

You zoomed around your apartment like a psychopath, picking up spare pieces of clothing and putting the dishes in the dishwasher. Your apartment reeked of mild depression, suppressed anxiety, and the beginnings of an unhealthy reliance on take out and that was not the first impression you wanted your newfound brother to have of you.

Putting your hands on your hips, you scanned the now clean apartment. It looked like a moderately adjusted human lived here.

Good timing indeed, as your buzzer sharply rang throughout the apartment. Taking a deep breath, you grasped the door handle and pulled it open.

Your lungs really said “Bye, sister!” and decided to quit working as soon as you saw this man. You couldn’t breath because standing in front of you was one of the most beautiful men you have ever seen in your life.

He was tall, taking up the entire doorway with his height. A dash of neatly groomed, brown hair graced the top of his small head and big eyes peered at you curiously above a strong nose and a pair of big, pouty lips the color of strawberries.

The second thing you noticed about him after his overwhelming beauty was his navy scrubs and the large badge attached to his pocket that read “Kim Seokjin; Pediatric Doctor at Seoul National University Pediatric Group”. You’ve seen people in scrubs and they were, favorably said, unflattering but on this man… he looked like he stepped out of a catalogue.

“You’re Y/N, right?”

Speechless, you nodded.

His entire face lit up with a grin. “Oh, that’s a relief. It’s fantastic to meet you, I’m Kim Seokjin. You can call me Jin though.”

Your voice decided to be nice and start working. You held out a hand and he reciprocated with a handshake. “Hi, I’m Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you. Please, do come in.”

He took off his sturdy shoes politely at the doorway and you retreated further into the hallway of your apartment.

You shivered again through your thin top and crossed your arms. God, you were going to have to raise the temperature. It felt like a fridge in here.

Jin turned around with a smile on his face before his eyes went wide. His eyes flickered down your body and quickly flickered back up to your face.

“I’m sorry if this is a bit sudden,” he started, red climbing up his neck and rising up to his cheeks. “I—” His eyes flicked down again before staying resolutely at your face, despite his very red cheeks.

Did you have a stain on your pants or something? You cast your eyes down at yourself and—

Oh.

Your very regrettable decision of turning your A/C up resulted in stiff nipples poking out from your thin top. To make matters worse, your crossed arms emphasized your breasts.

You felt yourself going red as an unflattering squeak left your mouth. Pulling a cardigan from behind the couch (there goes your good first impression), you quickly threaded your arms through the sleeves and covered your chest.

“I am so sorry—”

“It’s alright!” he said, his voice unwieldy. Jin’s eyes widened again as he realized the meaning of his words. “No! I mean— ugh,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands.

You giggled as you saw his mature composure crack in front of you. 

“I must seem like a pervert,” Jin groaned. “Here I was, hoping to come off as a cool older brother, and I just,” he shook his head. “Forgive me.”

The awkwardness defused, you laughed again, ultra conscious of your chest. “Please don’t worry about it! I had hoped to make a good first impression as well but look at me! Pulling clothing out of furniture.”

He snorted and you both started laughing, filling up your once silent apartment with sound. 

As the laughter died down, you offered him a seat on your couch. He gladly took the invitation, throwing in a joke about being on his feet all day.

“Yeah, I’m sorry to barge in all of the sudden. I didn’t have your contact information— only your address and I realized that you had no way to get to our house. So, here I am,” he grinned, eyes forming cute half crescents.

“I actually have to thank you for it,” you said, setting down a glass of water in front of him. “I was thinking of going to your house myself but I saw the security around it and I knew I’d probably get detained or something.”

“Well, it’s good that it all lined up so well,” Jin commented. “I better introduce myself, don’t I? I’m just a pediatric doctor with the SNU pediatric group and 26— the oldest of all of us. I was born in Gwacheon and moved to Seoul to attend university.”

You smiled softly, despite your unease at his use of the word “just”. “A pediatric doctor? That’s very nice. What made you want to be a doctor?”

Jin’s smile grew strained and you saw his broad shoulders tense up. 

Feeling like you wanted to hit yourself over the head, you threw out your hands in apology. “I didn’t mean to—”

He shook his head. “Please, don’t worry about it. It’s a common question. I chose this specific profession over the OR or surgery because, as a child, I knew someone who was injured a lot and I couldn’t help them at all.” He grimaced, but pasted on a very good smile. His eyes were crinkled at the edges, his head tilted upwards, but you could see through it. “Now I can, yeah?”

“I get what you mean,” you said sympathetically. You were often sick as a child too, and it was… difficult, when your father was off scampering across half the world. 

Jin straightened up in his seat and lost that faraway look in his eyes, zeroing in on you. “What about you, Y/N? You’re college-age, yeah?”

“Yes, I’m 21 and attend Yonsei University as a junior. Although it’s not as exciting as wanting to be a doctor, I want to be a counselor one day,” you told him, your eyes cast down “I want to help people.”

“That’s really admirable, Y/N. If you ever need any help getting an internship or opportunity, I know some counselors and I’d be more than happy to facilitate a meeting,” Jin smiled warmly at you.

A blush infused your cheeks. “I, ah, thank you. I actually work as an operator on Crisis hotline right now, but I’ll definitely need all the help I can get.”

“Of course! You’re my cute younger sister now.”

“I’ve never had a sibling, I’m very excited to have seven older brothers now,” you grinned.

“Yeah! About that,” he coughed awkwardly, “— are you considering moving in with us? Your father told my mother that you would be moving, but I wasn’t sure if you were completely willing?”

You nodded. “I’m considering it. I’d like to meet everyone first, however. Just to get used to your personalities.”

“Completely understandable, all seven of us can be,” he paused, “—a lot. However, if you’re up for meeting a few of us, I can take you to our house for a visit. I can drop you back and everything.”

“That’d be lovely.”

He waited patiently for you as you locked the door to your apartment, carefully watching you as you stepped into the elevator.

“Where did you park?” you asked, craning your head upwards to look at him. “I hope you weren’t forced to park on the street, it can be very expensive.”

He shook his head. “I found the visitor parking, it’s all good.”

The doctor led you through the underground parking, weaving through cars and concrete beams with ease until you stopped in front of a bright white car with a silver trident in the middle of its grill. Eyes wide, you knew what this car was. Your dad had admired Maseratis for the longest time, and this one looked to be very new.

Jin gestured to the white Maserati, looking unfairly suave in his scrubs and next to his fancy car. “Hop in.”

Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Mature Type, Namjoon! 

Chapter 2: Enter the Mature Type, Namjoon!

Jin was a model driver, driving carefully on the streets of Seoul. He looked both ways before crossing an intersection and took slow turns. However, it amused you how he hissed at the console as it beeped to warn him if there was a car or curb too close to him.

However, as you looked out the window, the streets got quieter and the houses a whole lot bigger as you crossed into a residential part of Seoul. You were driving parallel to the Han River, and you saw many people doing water activities or boating to cool off in the hot September weather.

Jin slowed down as you entered an avenue lined by trees and you could see a guardhouse at the end of the picturesque street. However, the two of you avoided the guardhouse completely and took what was presumably the resident’s entrance, where he passed by easily with a scan of a barcode on his tire.

“Do you drive, Y/N?” Jin asked, one elbow resting casually on his open window and the other on his lap.

“No, I never really had time to learn.” More like you never had someone to teach you.

“Okay, so we’ll just need a resident pass for you,” Jin muttered to himself, eyes focused on the street.

He drove through large, green spaces with the occasional building speckling the landscape. You gripped your purse harder. Green spaces unencumbered by large buildings blocking the view were rare in Seoul, the cost of natural land so astronomically high only wealthy business people or very famous celebrities being able to afford places like this. You gulped. Their family was definitely out of your league.

The car stopped in front of a very modern looking townhouse and the garage opened, Jin driving into what seemed to be a much more expansive parking garage under the house. However, instead of boring concrete and fluorescent lighting, sandy colored marble and warm lighting lit the space as you descended through the underground.

Biting your lip as Jin backed in his car easily with just one hand steering the wheel, defined forearms catching your attention, you mentally smacked yourself. He’s your brother, for god’s sake!

You froze up as the doors started to lift up like wings on a butterfly, but relaxed. This level of wealth would definitely take some time to get used to.

He placed a warm palm on your shoulder, his fingertips reaching your collarbones, as he guided you to the entrance, up the dimly lit stairs and to a large, wooden door.

“I wish I could’ve taken you through the front door since it’s much more impressive,” he sighed, and pushed the wooden door open with a thumbprint scanner. “However, welcome to our humble abode.”

An abode it was, but humble was it not. You were only on the ground floor, but the ceilings were very high and you were surrounded by many floor-to-ceiling windows. The main theme of the building was warm marble and dark, rich wood with jewel tones interspersed between.

“Woah,” you breathed out. “You guys have a lot of space.”

“Yeah, “ Jin grimaced. “We kind of need it when some of us like to roughhouse and tend to break things.”

You laughed as he then guided you towards a spacious living room, a large window overlooking the Han River and greenery.

“Sit tight, I’ll get us something to drink,” Jin said, his voice getting fainter as he strode to a room off the massive living room.

Ankles crossed together, you peered at the large room. At first, it looked neat. Everything was in its place and perfectly coordinated by the eye of an expert designer. However, you could see the signs the place was well-lived in. The wear-and-tear of the orange and beige blanket emblazoned with an H that was thrown over the chair of the couch, the mess of wires from various gaming consoles, and even the small depressions on the pillows. 

A shelf of colorful books framed the huge TV and you stood up, perusing them. You expected the books to be typical, non-offensive living room books with dust on the covers but to your surprise, the books on the shelves were well loved with their cracked spines and rounded edges. Tracing over your fingers over the books you whispered the titles to yourself.

Candide, Crime and Punishment, The Metamorphosis…

“I’m sorry, but who are you?”

A deep voice echoed behind you and you jumped in surprise. Whirling around you saw another tall man with neat ash blond hair, glasses neatly perched on his straight nose with a pair of fierce eyes peering out from behind the frames. His charcoal suit was well-fitted to his body and his build reminded you of a tiger; sinewous muscles cording his arms, back, and thighs and tensed, ready to jump into action.

A nervous smile crawled up your lips. “I’m Y/N L/N. Are you one of my new brothers?”

The man relaxed minutely but the fierceness of his eyes did not subside. “I am. I’m Kim Namjoon, it’s a pleasure to meet you Y/N.”

He strode across the room in long, confident strides and took your hand. His handshake was strong and you tightened your grip in response, narrowing your eyes at him. His right eyebrow quirked, but he said nothing as he turned his attention to the bookshelf.

“So, what caught your attention here?” He murmured, tenor voice traveling the length of your spine and stroking your sensitive skin. “Is it… this?”

He pulled out a copy of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, obviously less worn than the rest.

A smirk tugged at your lips. “No, not that one.”

He stared at you longer, before crossing his arms over his powerful chest. “Oh? Enlighten me, then.”

With nimble fingers, you pulled out a red, slim novel and handed it to him. You carefully tracked his reaction as he took it from your hands, face and eyes saying nothing. He ran a thumb over the agonized face on the cover, and you felt a shiver go down your arm at the sheer sensuousness of it.

“Clockwork Orange,” he breathed out. “Interesting. Are you a Lit Major?”

You continued to stare at the bookshelf, feeling his eyes boring holes into your face. “No, I’m not. I’m majoring in psychology.”

He hummed, eyes tracing the rough artwork of the novel’s cover. “I liked psychology, but at that point I was already double-majoring. I majored in philosophy and business, which are not as different than they seem.”

“Are you out of university, then?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.

Namjoon nodded affirmatively. “I’m 24, but I matriculated at SNU when I was 18. I run a conglomerate group now.”

Trying to keep your mouth from falling open in shock— what kind of twenty something year old owned a large business, much less a conglomerate— you nodded coolly.

“Given or made?” you questioned, an edge in your voice. Something about Namjoon made you want to test him, to prod at him constantly.

His fierce eyes turned to you and they blazed. 

“Made.”

Your lips lifted upwards, minutely, until you heard a clinking of glasses.

“Y/N? Sister-dearest? I got you— oh!”

Jin stopped in shock at the sight of you two seemingly huddled together in front of the book case.

“Do you two know each other?” Jin asked, absolutely bemused, as he set down a pitcher and some glasses on the coffee table.

“We don’t,” Namjoon answered. “However,” he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, “—I can see we’ll get along nicely.”

You did not get the same impression, but you digressed. He was one of your brothers now. Another factor was that one of his biceps, even though it was hidden inside his suit jacket, looked like it could strangle you.

Jin continued to stare in suspicion, before shrugging his wide shoulders and settling down on the couch.

“So what were you chatting about then?”

“A couple of books I had on the shelf. Y/N has some interesting taste,” Namjoon commented.

Jin snorted into his water with lemon. “Oh, ew, now I have two bookworms as siblings? Reading was the worst part of university. I liked all the practical stuff.”

“Sometimes I can’t believe that rational parents would let you near their kids,” Namjoon retorted, helping himself to a glass.

“And I can’t believe some women come near you,” Seokjin replied heatedly.

The two of them stared at each other seriously before breaking out in guffaws, hiding your expression behind your glass of water. This was such a weird dynamic and it was only two of them. Well, the best you could do was adapt the situation.

Just like you always had.

Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Rough Type, Jungkook! 

Chapter 3: Enter the Rough Type, Jungkook!

As the three of you chatted about yourselves (apparently, some of the brothers were biologically Seoyeon’s children or were adopted), Jin’s eye caught the clock behind you and his eyes widened.

“Oh dear, it’s almost 6 o’clock,” Jin fretted, leaping up from the couch. “Everyone should be arriving home soon– excuse me,” he said as he retreated into the kitchen.

“Ah, I guess that means I should get going,” you said apologetically to Namjoon, standing up and straightening your ruffled skirt.

“Please, stay for dinner,” Namjoon smiled, gesturing for you to take a seat.

“Yeah, Y/N, stay for dinner!” Jin yelled from the kitchen.

“I mean, if you’re sure…” you trailed off, hoping you could stay. You felt too lazy to cook for yourself tonight.

“Please do, we hope to see you a lot more around here,” Namjoon said, warm smiling at you.

The security system dinged, signalling a door had opened within the house. Namjoon’s ears perked up.

His eyes flew towards the doorway. “That must be Taehyung or Jungkook, coming in. They’re usually the first to arrive.”

You wondered why both of those names seemed familiar and a heavy door slammed shut.

“Jungkook-ah! Your new sister is here! Come and greet her, you punk!”

The footsteps thud to a halt at the foot of the steps and you spin around in your seat.

In the hallway, a buff man in a loose-fitting white t-shirt and grey joggers stood in front of you. In almost humorous contrast to his hulking, muscled body, the cutest face with big eyes and pouty lips you have seen peered at you.

He looked familiar to you and you bit your lip, trying to figure out where you had seen him. Oh wait! Charger guy!

“Jungkook! You’re in my Calculus class, right?”

“Yeah…” he whispered, looking at you like he saw a ghost.

“It’s so funny that you’re here. It’s nice to meet you as my brother,” you grinned at him, tilting your head to the side.

He nodded mindlessly, frozen at his spot in the hallway.

“Jungkook? Are you good?” you prodded.

Namjoon snorted as he kept on typing into his phone. “Jungkook can’t speak to girls, so he gets frozen like this from time to time. Hyung, you fix him.”

“I’m cooking, you dolt!”

“And I’m trying to earn money so I can provide the food. Go.”

Jin shot you a look, as if exclaiming “look at how I’m treated around here!”, and dusted off his hands. Striding over to a frozen Jungkook, Jin poked Jungkook’s very built chest.

Jungkook still didn’t move and Jin pursed his lips. He poked him again. “Yah! Why aren’t you working?!”

The youngest brother broke out from his trance and looked at Jin seriously. 

“No.”

“Pardon?” you asked, wondering if you misheard.

“No.” Jungkook shook his mass of black, shaggy hair and ran a tattooed hand through it, looking in disbelief at the ground. “No, no, no, no, no no.”

Your slight smile is frozen on your face and you feel your shoulders tense up and, nervously, you look to Jin.

“Jungkook—“

“Fuck!” He threw his hands in the air. Jungkook pointed a finger at you, a line creasing at his forehead. “I did not sign up for this! Fuck!” 

Spinning around, he marched back into the hall and you could see the powerful muscles in his back tense through his thin t-shirt.

“Well…”

Jin, with his hands rubbing his temples, sighed heavily and deflated at the counter. “God, I’m sorry about that Y/N. I don’t know why Jungkookie is acting like that; he’s normally really amiable and nice.”

You laugh softly, trying to defuse the awkward tension that had settled around the kitchen. “Jin-ssi, please don’t worry about it. It’s a huge shift in his life and some people are going to take it harder than others. It’ll take some time, but I’m sure he’ll get used to me being his sister.”

Namjoon scrutinized you with hooded eyes. “You’re very kind. I hope my brothers don’t take advantage of it.”

Your grin cracked a bit. “We’re family. I don’t mind.”

—————

Jungkook would not come down from his room, despite the hilarious mix of threats, blackmail, and aegyo Jin tried to coerce him down with.

You could hear Jin rapid-fire lecturing Jungkook outside Jungkook’s bedroom door and Namjoon sighed, his temples in his hands. 

“Hyung, just give up. The kid’s being moody again.”

Jin acquiesced with ill grace, throwing in a last good “You punk!” up the stairs. He stomped down the carpeted stair well, retying his apron and set to reheat many of the things.

“See if I feed him tonight, that ungrateful brat…” Jin hissed, moodily chopping some screen onions.

Namjoon leaned towards you and beckoned your ear towards his and you obeyed, curious. His scent wafted towards you, yet was not as punchy as a normal cologne. It was subtle and musky, carrying notes of old books and bergamot. Perhaps it was a lotion?

“Jin says that all the time, but will leave him leftovers anyways,” Namjoon whispered into your ear, making you unconsciously shiver. “He’s too much of a pushover.”

You snorted as Jin came out of the kitchen with a dish in hands. “Yah, what was that, Namjoon?”

“Just commenting on how good your food is, hyung,” Namjoon replied coolly and leaning away from you.

Jin glanced suspiciously at Namjoon, before setting down the dish. You gasped, immediately getting to your feet.

“Oh, I’ve been such a rude guest! Can I help in any way? Set out the dishes or something?”

The apron-clad doctor clutched his heart, and wailed, “Look! My cute dongsaeng! Finally, a member of this household that is kind and offers to do their part!” Jin’s voice got progressively louder as he directed his voice up the stairs.

You muffled your laugh with a cough, and turned to Jin again. “Jin-ssi?”

Jin shook his head, clicking his tongue as he directed you to stay in your seat. “No, sweetheart, you’re a guest. Joonie-ah, set out the plates.”

Namjoon got up to get the plates, but as he did, his phone buzzed. Namjoon’s forehead creased as he looked at whatever was on his screen.

“Hyung, Taehyung-ah won’t be here today. Apparently his shoot on Jeju is lasting over night.”

Jin sighed, bustling around the kitchen. “How about Hoseok? Yoongi? I know Chimmy is out of the country right now.”

Taehyung, Hoseok, Yoongi, Chimmy, you memorized in your head. These were the four brothers you had yet to meet.

Namjoon snorted and put down the silverware, forks and spoons tinkling brightly. “You know Yoongi— he’s like a stray cat. He’ll be here when he wants. As for Hoseok, I think he might’ve just fallen asleep at the studio.”

“I’m sorry Y/N, I wish I could’ve introduced you to our other brothers,” Jin apologized. “Now, you’re just stuck with us two grandpas.”

You shook your head. “I’m just happy I could have dinner with you guys. Thank you for inviting me over.”

Jin watched you with a fond smile and Namjoon contemplated you carefully again.

Everything was set out and the three of you dug into Jin’s delicious food.

“Jin-ssi, this is very good. Your food tastes delicious. Did you put brown sugar into the sauce? It really rounds out the taste,” you complimented.

“I haven’t heard a compliment from these ungrateful brats about my cooking for 10 years,” Jin sighed dramatically. “Such a cute dongsaeng.”

Namjoon shook his head at Jin’s immature antics. “I might as well introduce you to Jungkook, since he elected not to do it himself.”

“You seemed to know him from university, yes?” Jin asked.

Nodding, you dabbed your mouth with a napkin. “I know of him, yes. He’s in my calculus class? Although, I feel like I might’ve had him in some of my core curriculum classes.”

“Jungkook is at Yonsei for a technology degree, although at first he was reluctant to go to university,” Namjoon revealed. “He wanted to be a Pro-Gamer and streamer full-time, but Seoyeon, Hyung, and I convinced him to get a degree.”

“He chose technology because he wants to combine his passion for gaming and technology into something in the future,” Jin continued, taking a sip of his water.

“That’s a very smart move of his,” you said politely. You wondered why Namjoon referred to his mother as ‘Seoyeon’. Maybe he was one of the adopted ones?

“That brat upstairs might look like he just screams at the monitor and works out, but he’s much more,” Namjoon reflected.

———- 

When you were cleaning up, you felt bad that Jungkook hadn’t had dinner yet. That man must need like four square meals a day and tons of snacks to keep up his bulk.

“Jin-ssi, Namjoon-ssi, I’m going to deliver some food to Jungkook. He must be hungry,” you called out, scraping some of the food onto a plate.

“You don’t have too, Y/N, he usually sneaks down to get something from the fridge,” Namjoon said as he typed furiously on his phone.

“Don’t worry about it, I want to help him,” you grinned, climbing up the stairs.

Namjoon mumbled something suspiciously like, “You’re too kind for your own good” but you had already gotten to the second landing. Stopping in front of Jungkook’s door, you knocked.

“Jungkook-ssi?” you said when no one responded. “You must be a bit hungry, so I just got a plate together for you.”

Complete radio silence. 

Exhaling sharply through your nostrils, you pouted and bent down to set down the plate next to his doorway.

“Well, if you change your mind, I put it next to your door. I’ll be going now!”

You strode down the hallway, making sure your footsteps trailed off. You hid behind a corner, making sure to conceal yourself completely.

After waiting a few minutes, you were sure he wasn’t going to come out  but his door clicked open and Jungkook emerged in a grey-blue hoodie. He took a surreptitious glance around the hallway before his eyes found you behind the corner.

Blushing, you decided to wave at him. To your surprise, instead of scowling or ignoring you completely, Jungkook’s face turned tomato red as he hurriedly gathered up the plate and slammed his door.

You scratched your head. Maybe he was shy or something.

Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Bright Type, Hoseok! 

Chapter 5: Enter the Bright Type, Hoseok!

“So, how were your brothers? Nice? Weird? Ugly?” Hyerim pestered as you walked by the subway.

You bit your lip. “Um, really different?”

Hyerim fixed you a look.

“Okay, so I met three out of the seven yesterday. The oldest one— his name is Seokjin, but I call him Jin— is 26 and he’s a pediatric doctor. The other one—”

“Wait, Seokjin?” Your friend squinted at you. “Does he happen to work at SNU Pediatric Group?”

Blinking, you turned to her. “Yeah? How the hell did you know that?”

Hyerim let out a half strangled scream as you stepped down the stairs of the station. You were instantly surrounded by dozens of power blue ads with a purple suit-clad man in the middle, perhaps in the middle of a hip trust, all reading Happy Birthday in aesthetic cursive.

“Hoe! He’s my brother’s fucking doctor, I can’t believe this!”

Your eyebrows nearly touched your forehead. “Shit, really?”

“Yes! Holy shit, did you not listen to me complaining to you about how hot he was? And now he’s your fucking brother? The star must’ve aligned for me! This must mean the rest of the brothers are good looking!” Hyerim squealed.

“Does Jongin not exist anymore?” you asked as you both swiped your subway passes.

“Shhh, just because I’m off the market doesn’t mean I don’t get to look,” she giggled, her pony tail swishing back and forth.

You shook your head, amused at her antics, and continued.

“Anyways, the other brother I met is some fancy-schmancy businessman. Namjoon-ssi is 25? 24? He’s older than me but graduated from college when he was just 18.”

Hyerim’s eyes took on a perverted light and she simpered underneath her hand. “Oh? Am I hearing of sugar daddy material?”

You squawked and hit her shoulder. “Hyerim, stop! These are my brothers, not matches on Tinder!”

“I don’t care, you need a boyfriend— even if it’s a secret and taboo one,” Hyerim said, pushing her hair off her shoulder.

Rolling your eyes, you sat down in a seat next to her. “Anyways, the boys invited me to dinner again tonight in hopes we’ll catch more of the boys in the house. Jin-ssi says trying to get them all in one place is like waiting for a blue moon— it’s very rare.”

“So are you going straight there or going home to change?”

Shaking your head, you gestured at a laminated white pass in your hands. “I wanted to get there early today so I can go home early. Jin-ssi drove me home last night and I don’t want him to be caught in rush hour traffic again.”

Hyerim peered at the pass in your hands. “Hannam the Hill? Hey, doesn’t Han Hyo-joo live there? The actress from Brilliant Legacy?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you leaned into the hard plastic seat. “I don’t know. Probably? All I know is that the place where they live is very ritzy and takes like two security gates to get into.”

“Okay, they’re all sugar daddy material then,” Hyerim commented. She ducked to avoid a hit over the head and you huffed, crossing your arms.

“Stop, they all do pretty well for themselves and I heard my stepmother is some fancy businesswoman from a well-to-do family. They’re just my family now.”

“The train is approaching Yangwon station. I repeat the train is approaching Yangwon station,” the bright voice announced over the intercom.

“Oh, that’s my stop,” you remembered. 

“Wait, you said you met another brother. Who is he?” Hyerim asked as she patted her nose with a compact.

The train slowed to a stop and you got up.

“My other brother is Jungkook. The one from our Calculus class? The streamer?”

Smirking, you dramatically walked away and heard Hyerim’s shriek of disbelief as you stepped onto the train platform.

————— 

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked the guard in disbelief.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but your visitor pass has expired,” the security guard said calmly, eyes scanning you detachedly. Like you were another crazy female.

You were going to kill Jin. Forget his awesome jajamyeon, you’ll bitch-slap both him and Namjoon into another dimension.

“Are you sure you can’t just let me in? Like, call the house or something,” you asked desperately, hands crumpling the visitor pass.

The guard looked like he desperately wanted to roll his eyes, but he picked up his corded phone.

“Building 10, yes?” he asked boredly.

“Yes.”

He waited for the call to be picked up but after several rings, no one picked up.

“Apologies ma’am, but no one appears to be at the house. If you’re done, I’d like to ask you to leave and come back later,” the man said with an air of finality, and turned back to his station and looked at the 6 monitors surrounding his desk.

Your mouth open, you were aghast at his lack of sympathy. He could’ve at least offered for you to let you wait! It was nearing sun down and the boys had invited you to dinner again, and it would be rude to be late.

You don’t even know why they needed this much security. Sure, Namjoon was the CEO of a large conglomeration but wasn’t as high profile as Samsung’s chairman or someone crazy like that. It wasn’t like one of your brothers was a high-profile celebrity, right?

Standing on the sidewalk and looking like an idiot, you decided to call one of your damn brothers. Huffing, you flipped open your phone and selected Jin’s contact. After several rings, the call picked up.

“Y/N?”

“Hi Jin-ssi, sorry to bother you right now. I’m sure you’re busy right now,” you apologized, accidentally meeting eyes with the security guard who stared at you suspiciously.

“You’re fine! Is everything alright?” Jin asked, his voice tinged by concern.

You bit your lip as the security guard raised an eyebrow and picked up his phone, his eyes not letting go of you the entire time.

“I’m trying to get to the house, but the guard told me the visitor pass expired,” you explained, breath hitching as the guard spoke rapidly into the phone.

Jin swore over the phone, the sound muffled as he moved his phone away from his face.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, Namjoon and I were so sure it was still active. Sit tight wherever you are, I’m texting one of the boys to get you through the gate. Hoseok is about a few minutes away from you.”

“Um, I don’t mean to rush,” you said, eyes widening as the man gestured to get out of the guardhouse, “— but I think the guard is about to detain me.”

“Goddamn security,” Jin hissed. “I’m calling the guard office right now, I am so sorry.”

He hung up and the guard continued to advance towards you, and you grasped your phone a bit tighter. The summer humidity suddenly pressed into your skin, slipped between your waistband and collar to make you sweat. Your eyes flickered to the station. No one was in the guard office to take Jin’s call so you steeled for yourself for what was about to be an ugly confrontation.

“Ma’am, I firmly ask you to leave the premises before I am forced to—”

“Y/N!”

The guard and you turned in the direction of the sound, and you saw a man in a bright yellow windbreaker and black sport shorts somehow jogging towards you in socks and sandals.

“Y/N,” he said, out of breath, as he stopped in front of you and the security guard. He held out a hand as he put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

“Hoseok-nim,” the guard bowed in respect, “Do you perhaps know this young lady?”

You got a good glimpse of him as he lifted his head and tennis cap. He pulled down his white mask and you saw his pointed nose, unfairly smooth skin, and sharp chin. You sobbed inwardly. Did all of your brothers miraculously get the luckiest scratch off tickets for the genetic jackpot? The man grinned at you and nodded in affirmative at the guard.

“Yes, I do,” Hoseok said, straightening up.

“I’m sorry, the young lady did not have the proper credentials to enter. My apologies.” The guard continued, speaking to Hoseok as if you did not exist.

Hoseok’s happy expression vanished and his brows furrowed. “Please, don’t apologize to me. My sister looked frightened. My brothers and I would appreciate it if you treated her a bit more politely.”

You hadn’t even noticed how frightened you were as you felt a drop of sweat roll down your temple and the shivers stop.

“I apologize, young lady,” the security guard said, taking off his cap and bowing politely. You smiled tightly and accepted with grace, gesturing for him to get up.

“That being said, we haven’t had time to get her resident pass processed. I’d like to add her to a list of visitors so a mix-up like this will not happen again,” Hoseok said seriously, staring down the security guard underneath his tennis logo cap and eccentric outfit. It almost put a smile to your lips, to see a beefy man in a suit and tie nearly cower under a boy at least half his age and centimeters shorter than him.

“Of course. Hoseok-nim, young lady,” he bowed, and the security guard scurried towards the office.

Hoseok turned towards you and his face brightened, rounded cheeks pulled upwards. “Hi Y/N, I’m so sorry for this mess,” he said, eyes shining with regret.

“I completely understand,” you placated. “You’re… Hoseok-ssi, right?”

He beamed. “Yes, I’m Hoseok. I’m 24, the middle brother. Please, call me oppa, we’re siblings now!”

He slung an arm over your shoulder and you couldn’t help but beam along with him. His bright energy was so infectious and immediately warmed you to him, drawing you into his orbit.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you replied, smile tugging at your lips. “I’m Y/N, 21 years old.”

“I’m so excited to have a cute younger sister,” Hoseok confessed as he walked you through the streets towards the house. “I was always jealous of my friends that could take care of their younger sisters, even though they acted like they were annoyed by them.”

You grinned more brightly. “Me too. I’ve been an only child all my life and having seven new brothers is very exciting to me.”

“You might want to take that back when you’ve met all of us,” Hoseok laughed. “You’ve met Jin-hyung, Namjoon-hyung, Jungkook-ah, right?”

Nodding, you spoke, “Yes, I have. Jin-ssi and Namjoon-ssi are very nice to me, but I don’t think Jungkook-ssi liked me very much…”

Hoseok waved it away. “Don’t worry, Kookie-ah doesn’t socialize well with girls. Or people. It took him ages to warm up to us after he got back from his grandparents.”

“Kookie-ah?” you asked curiously.

“Yes,” Hoseok grinned as he turned you onto a familiar street. “It’s our nickname for our youngest. He’s too cute not to tease.” Hoseok frowned as he remembered something. “Even though he is taller than me now.”

Hoseok was pretty tall himself, and you were starting to think that if you all took a family photo one day you’d look like the dwarf in the middle. Namjoon, Jin, and Jungkook just towered over you.

“On the other note, what do you do, Y/N? I’m curious about what my younger sister does.”

“I’m a university student at Yonsei, Hoseok-ssi,” you coughed, still not comfortable calling anybody oppa. “I’m studying psychology so I can be a counselor.”

“Yonsei? So my dongsaeng is a smart nut, I see,” Hoseok teased. “Did you know Jungkook before you met him as your brother?”

You shook your head. “I saw him around, but I only knew of him. What about you, Hoseok-ssi? What do you do?”

“I’m a dancer,” Hoseok announced, the house getting closer in view. “I’m part of this dance group, Neuron. We travel to perform and compete in competitions.”

“That’s awesome!” you clapped. “You must be very persistent. I tried ballet when I was younger and it was a disaster.”

“I haven’t heard that before,” Hoseok said, looking curiously at you. “Most people have told me I must be very talented or pull girls easily. But you’re right, I worked very hard.”

“What can I say?” you shrugged. “I just see through people.”

Hoseok guided you up the front steps of the doorway, fumbling through his pants to get his key. As he unlocked the front door, you heard the rumbling of a car going through the streets.

Going at least 100 kilometers per hour, a metallic blue Lamborghini skidded to a halt in front of the house. The weird doors stretched upwards and you saw both Jin and Namjoon emerge from the car.

“Y/N? Baby? Are you alright?” Jin asked worriedly, running up the front door.

“I’m good, Jin-ssi,” you comforted but he ignored it, taking your face in your hands and tilting your head to his view.

“Aish, those damn security guards!” Jin complained, clutching you to his chest and turning to Namjoon. “It’s your fault! Why did you give her that pass! She could’ve been detained! Put into cuffs like—like a criminal!” he ended dramatically.

Namjoon looked flabbergasted. “Me? You’re the one who got it!”

As the two descended into bickering, you peered at Hoseok from in between Jin’s arms. Your eyes screamed save me!

Hoeseok helpfully pried you from the still arguing doctor’s arms.

“Sorry about that, Jin is a bit protective over all of us— he practically raised us. We call him our mom sometimes,” Hoseok revealed, getting you into the house and leaving the now huffing and puffing duo on the doorsteps.

Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Moody Type, Taehyung! 

Chapter 7: Enter the Moody Type, Taehyung!

As you entered the house, the faint strings of what might be a Daniel Caesar song flowed throughout the house.

“Oh goodie, Taehyung must be here!,” Jin clapped, setting down his keys on a hook near the door. 

Namjoon snorted. “He’s the only one of us that listens to this moody shit.”

Through drought and famine, natural disaster, my baby has been around for me.

A door slammed somewhere on the ground level, and the click clack of heeled boots echoed like muffled gunshots on the marble of the house.

Kingdoms have fallen, angels be calling, none of that could ever make me leave.

Turning the corner, your heart stopped.

Leaning on the wooden doorway was the most heart-breakingly beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes upon. His dyed ash-grey hair was messy around his face, but behind his bangs peeked half-lidded eyes shaped like tear drops. A strong nose and pink lips, like the petals of a flower, were parted open as he stared through you.

“Oh? Is this our new sister?” he said softly, his gravelly voice filling the hall.

You grinned uneasily, fighting off the urge to cover yourself with a blanket or something. It wasn’t that his gaze was improper; those mercurial eyes just seemed to look through you.

“Taehyung, meet Y/N. She is our stepfather’s daughter,” Jin said carefully, eyes flicking between you like a tennis match.

It’s not fair, you thought. His clothes shouldn’t even match. The silky sleeveless tee had a paintbrush stroke across the chest and was bunched into baggy canvas pants covered in paint. It should’ve made him look like those wacky tube inflatables near car dealerships yet he looked like he walked out of a magazine.

“It’s nice to see you, Y/N,” Taehyung nearly whispered, head tilted to the side like he was evaluating a particular interesting museum installation. He made no move to shake your hand or embrace you.

“And you too, Taehyung-ssi,” you replied, bowing politely. He inclined his head.

“Well, I better get back to my red room. My pretties are coming along nicely,” Taehyung pronounced matter-a-factly, spinning sharply around to disappear into the dimly lit hall.

Namjoon face-palmed. “Well, now it sounds like he has a kinky sex dungeon. He just sees the world a bit differently than us, that’s all. It took some time for us to interpret his words when he came to us; for example, his pretties are his photographs.” The businessman looked suddenly pensieve. “Perhaps that’s why he’s so good at what he does.”

“Oh? What does Taehyung-ssi do?” you inquired, feeling like a strong breeze had swept into the room and left as suddenly as it came. You know that feeling? Where your skin tingles in the aftermath, your lips are suddenly dry, and like you could be knocked over the lightest touch.

“He’s a magazine editor, Y/N-ah,” Hoseok grins, putting down his heavy dancer bag on the couch carelessly. “It’s this really new-age, artsy magazine with a cult following. Maybe you’ve seen it? I think he named it something cryptic like ‘V’.”

“I’ll look into it, then,” you beamed, hoping to diffuse the weird tension that had settled on your shoulders.

———- 

Hoseok excused himself to take a shower and Namjoon had to take an important phone call, so it was just you and Jin left.

“Well, I know us five are at least here, and I know Jungkook is due to arrive soon from the gym. However, I don’t know if someone is going to drop by so I just leave an extra plate in the fridge just in case,” Jin said, stroking his chin.

“So, what’s on the menu today?” you asked playfully, taking a seat on the barstool.

Jin ruffled through the fridge, the fluorescent light highlighting his casual t-shirt. “Well, with what we have in the fridge, I can make some Chap-Chae and perhaps Kimchi Jjigae. However, we’d have a lot of chicken left and we need to eat it soon. Hm…”

“Jin-ssi, I know a good chicken recipe. Dakgangjeong? It’s this crispy fried chicken slathered in sweet and spicy sauce.”

The doctor frowned for a moment, leaning against the countertop.

“Is someone allergic? Or doesn’t like Chicken?” you asked worriedly, biting your lips.

Jin shook his head and chuckled. “No, everyone really likes fried chicken here. I’m just trying to remember if we have the ingredients.”

“That’s a relief, because it’s one of my favorite comfort meals.”

Opening the pantry, he bent down to look for something. “I think we do have everything here, thank goodness,” he grinned at you as he got up. “Do you cook a lot?”

“Yup, it’s my hobby,” you revealed, washing your hands at the sink. “I had to learn how to give myself food as a child.”

“Okay, awesome! You get started on the chicken and I’ll do the other dishes,” Jin said brightly, putting some ingredients on the table.

“Sounds good to me!”

You probably weren’t meant to hear it, but Jin giggled underneath his breath, “I have a sous-chef now.”

————

You put the finishing garnishes on your chicken and stepped back. The glaze looked very savory underneath the kitchen lights and dipping your finger into your glaze pot, it also tasted very good as well.

By the looks of it, Jin had finished with his two dishes. Wiping his hands with a towel, he put his hands on his hips and yelled, “Children! Get down here to eat, you punks!” 

As soon as you set down your plate of chicken, a multitude of footsteps resounded throughout the house.

Namjoon strode in first, only in a white shirt and trousers, and nodded coolly at you. The man looked very attractive out of his form-fitting workwear, and you wish your gaze hadn’t lingered on his tan, exposed skin.

Hoseok and Jungkook came in second, rough-housing with each other in the doorway before taking their seats. Hoseok greeted you brightly but Jungkook stared at you without a word before averting his gaze.

Finally, V came into the dining room in a more casual outfit of an oversized shirt and lounge pants, but still exuded an air of effortless grace. He grinned at everyone and plopped down into his chair.

“Alright everyone, eat up!” Jin fussed, setting down the steaming hot bowl and plate he was somehow carrying. You trailed after him with your dish grasped with both hands, hoping you wouldn’t accidentally trip and spill your hard work over the very expensive carpet.

You had to lean over Jungkook to place your chicken in the middle and you heard a startled “eep!” from beside you.

“Jungkook-ssi, are you alright?” You asked, sitting down in your seat next to him.

He nodded wordlessly, his ears red and gaze intensely focused on his plate. Running your eyes over him, you shrugged and grabbed your chopsticks.

The whole family dug in, loud and boisterous as people argued over which cut was better and devolved into personal attacks. Something warm curled up in your chest and warmed your cheeks, hoping to constrain the ridiculous smile that threatened to split your face. Is this how family looks like?

Watching Jungkook engage Taehyung in a very one sided conversation about the benefits of eating a certain part of the meat versus the other was very different than your empty apartment and lukewarm food.

“Wah, hyung, you’ve really outdid yourself with the chicken,” Hoseok gushed as he took a big bite of your chicken. “Please make it for us more!”

Jin chuckled, and set his chopsticks down. “I didn’t make it, so you’d have to ask her if you want more.”

Namjoon, with a strange light in his eyes, gestured to the nearly empty chicken plate with his chopsticks. “You… made this?”

Nodding in affirmative, you took a sip of your cola and cleared your throat. “Yes, I hope you guys liked it.”

Jungkook choked on his water and Jin rushed over to roughly pat his back. “Breath Jungkookie, breath!”

Hoseok yelled in delight and took out his handphone. “My cute little sister made this for me? Wow, my friends are going to be so jealous!” he grinned, snapping a few nice pictures of your glazed chicken.

Jungkook recovered at this point and was trying to fend off mother-hen Jin. “Hyung, I’m fine! I swear! You don’t have to baby me!,” he whined, cheeks red. “Besides, it was probably a bone or something.”

Your oldest brother huffed and sat back roughly into his seat, muttering something about ungrateful kids, while you tried to roll Jungkook’s comment over in your head. Bone? You used boneless chicken?

Deciding to push it away from your mind, you discreetly glanced at your cell phone and realized it was nearing 8 o’clock.

“Oh dear,” you muttered, catching the attention of the men at the table. “It’s almost 8 o’clock and I need to get home to water my plants,” you fretted.

As if on cue, a crack of thunder shook the table and you heard the rain start to hound at the windows and walls.

“Well, I be-leaf they’re getting watered,” Jin commented, cleaning up the last parts of his plate.

Staring at him in disbelief, you started to giggle and soon you were clutching your stomach with how hard you were laughing. 

“Did she like his shitty joke that much?” Jungkook whispered not so discreetly to Namjoon, who looked a bit weirded out himself.

“I’ve- I’ve never met a man with such awful jokes,” you laughed, wiping a tear from your eyes. “But I can’t help finding them so funny.”

The doctor aha-ed and pointed at Jungkook. “See? My jokes are so bad that they’re good!”

Snorting in disbelief, the youngest brother leaned back into his chair with his arms crossed over his built chest. “She’s our sister, she’s obligated to,” he murmurs sulkily. He sneaks a peek at you and you giggle at his adorable moodiness, to which he reddens and avoids your gaze.

Namjoon looked worriedly out the window, quickly turning on the news with his phone.

“— strong windstorms and rains are going to be surrounding Seoul overnight—”

“I can’t, in good conscience, let you go back home in this weather,” Namjoon stated, eyes flickering between you and the loud weather outside.

You hesitated. You were kind of worried for Mr. Ukyo, your cute succulent on the porch. “I—”

“Y/N, please,” Hoseok begged. “What kind of brothers would we be if we left you alone tonight? Stay in. We have a guest room with all the stuff you need.”

“I… okay. Thank you guys,” you smiled uneasily.

Hoseok laughed and patted your back as he got up to put his plate away.

“Sleepover…” Taehyung mumbled as he passed by you. On his way out the door, he gave you a boxy smile that tugged at something in your head.

Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Cool Type, Yoongi! 

Chapter 7: Enter the Cool Type, Yoongi!

“Hi, my cute dongsaeng!” announced Hoseok as he strode into your guest room. “I come bearing gifts!”

You grinned at your exuberant brother as he danced through your doorway, having a pile of stuff in his arms.

“We usually don’t have guests over, but sometimes our mother stays at the house and now we have a bunch of, uh, woman stuff,” Hoseok coughed.

“Thank you, Hoseok-ssi,” you said, moving to sort through the items.

“Call me oppa,” Hoseok whined.

Namjoon peeked through your doorway and saw Hoseok pouting at you, and instantly wacked the back of his head.

“Yah, you literally just met her today. Let her grow more comfortable with us first,” the businessman scolded, before turning to you.

“We have some t-shirts and shorts that don’t fit Jungkook anymore but please don’t tell him that we kept his childhood items,” Namjoon shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “I got you a toothbrush and toothpaste, plus some face products.

“You’re really kind, I feel like I’m in a hotel,” you joked, moving to plug your phone into the wall outlet. The place felt like your hotel suite suddenly got upgraded. This guest room was bigger than your entire living room and everything was so nicely decorated, you couldn’t help but gawk like a tourist at the fancy light fixtures and furniture. Maybe if you broke a vase you’d have to work in a host club...

“Ah, really? That’s nice to hear,” Namjoon said, sitting down in an armchair near the window overlooking Seoul and the Han River. He steepled his fingers together, tilting his head at you. “However, if you moved in, this room would be yours.”

Your slight smile turned slightly downwards and Hoseok, sensing the change of mood easily, turned over and whacked Namjoon over his head.

“Who’s the one going too fast now?” Hoseok retorted, before plopping down on the chair opposite of Namjoon.

“No, no, you’re fine, Namjoon-ssi,” you acknowledged. “I just… I don’t want to intrude. Plus, the amount of testosterone in this building…” you trailed off.

“Y/N-ah, we just met you but we already know you’d be a good fit with our family,” Hoseok said, smiling softly at you. “Seriously.”

“I don’t want to seem overbearing and I know you’re very independent, but the idea of you living alone worries Jin-hyung and I,” Namjoon confessed, wringing his hands and looking towards the window. “What happens if there is any emergency? Or you got sick? It’d be hard for us to take care of you.”

Tears welled up at the edge of your vision and your mouth twitched downwards. Quickly pressing a hand to your mouth, you averted your eyes from the boys.

“Y/N-ssi, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” Namjoon asked worriedly, getting up from the armchair.

You waved him away, discreetly wiping your nose. “I-I’m fine, Namjoon-ssi. Really. I’m just really emotional all the sudden, that’s all.”

“Y/N-ah, are you sure?” Hoseok piped in concern, craning his neck to see your face.

A hand thrust some tissues in front of you and you took them gratefully, dabbing at your eyes.

“I- I just…” you sucked a breath in, and turned towards the fretful pair of brothers. You suddenly beamed at them, eyes crinkling into crescents and grin splitting your cheeks despite the visible tear tracks on your cheeks. “I’ve never had someone care for me. Thank you.”

The two boys felt their heart stutter at the surprisingly vulnerable confession from the ever-polite yet distant you. They shared a look.

We’re in trouble.

———-

The house quieted down and all the lights were turned out as the rain seemed to get louder. However, despite the busy day, you tossed and turned in the very comfy cotton sheets.

Turning on your side, you watched the rain stream down your window in awe. While the window was big, a building partially blocked your view of the Han river and the Seoul skyline. You unplugged your phone from the charger on the wall and looked at the time. 1 A.M.

For some reason, you couldn’t sleep. Perhaps it was the unfamiliar environment or the dozens of thoughts crowding your head, but you couldn’t force your head to turn off despite counting hundreds of sheep.

Letting out a frustrated groan, you untangled yourself from the sheets and set your feet on the heated marble. Padding quietly to the door, you tried your best to open and close the heavy wooden door softly.

The house seemed bigger when it was not filled by the loud voices and eclectic, varied personalities of your brothers. Clutching a throw blanket over your shoulders, you made your way down the stairwell with only the city’s lights shining through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows around the house.

Flicking the low lights on in the kitchen, you searched the many cabinets for where they kept their tea packets. You finally found a jar of chamomile tea in a corner of the pantry, turning on the tea kettle and waiting for it to boil.

Leaning against the corner, your eyes got accustomed to the dark of the living room and roved over the personal effects of the brothers. There was a large picture of all seven boys on the mantle of the fireplace with their mother sitting in the middle, however, you could not see the faces of the two brothers you had not met due to the reflection in the glass.

Could you see yourself living here? With the amiable and fussy Jin, and the mature, erudite Namjoon? Wake up every morning to see the infectiously bright Hoseok at the counter and the mercurial Taehyung floating through the house like a wraith? Even go to school with your confusing classmate, Jungkook?

The kettle whistled loudly and you took it off its burner, pouring water into a cup. Flicking off the underhead lights in the kitchen, you padded towards the living room and curled up on the outrageously soft, leather couch. Blowing on your tea, you took a sip as you gazed in wonder at the rain streaming rivers over the large, bay window.

For years, the rain had been your only friend when your father traipsed the globe. It had softly knocked at your window to check if you were okay when you were sick and playfully splashed you when you were sad. The rain sang you to sleep every night when you were young and alone, afraid of the thundering din outside.

Looking at the portrait of the seven boys, you saw a new family.

Smiling into your tea cup, your mind was made up.

A loud beep rang throughout the house and a click reached your ears. Your eyes tried to look through the darkness at the basement entrance, where a figure clad in all black emerged. Feeling a momentary panic seize your heart, your fingers tightened over your mug and you tried to think straight. This was probably your other brother, Yoongi or Chimmy.

“Oh? Who are you?” A raspy voice said, shutting the door behind him. “Are you one of my brother’s girlfriends?”

Shaking your head, you got to your feet. “No, I’m your new sister, Y/N L/N.”

The figure made an affirmative noise and removed his shoes at the massive shoe closet next to the entrance. “Ah, I see. I’m Yoongi, your second oldest brother.”

A crack of thunder shook the house and a few seconds later, bright white lightning flashed through the room and illuminated you both.

In that split second, you saw pitch black hair constrained by a headband. However, what caught your attention was his eyes. Contrasted against pale skin and fierce, arched brows, were lids shaped like the outstretched wing of a bird. He stared at you lazily before they widened minutely.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Yoongi-ssi.”

“You too,” he mumbled and bowed politely, shuffling up the stairs like a gloomy specter.

You blinked a bit at how calmly he took this into stride. Christ, were your brothers fazed by anything?

—————

“Y/N-ah. Y/N-ah, wake up!”

You groggily opened your eyes to see Jin close to your face, his brows bunched together in concern.

“Y/N-ah, are you alright? You’re on the couch.”

Straightening up you could see that you, indeed, were still on the couch. You must’ve fallen asleep while watching the rain.

“Oh, yeah, I am,” you stated, rubbing your eyes and yawning. “I must’ve fallen asleep here last night.”

Jin sat across you and looked worried. “Did something happen last night? Was the guest room not comfortable? Did—”

“Oh no, nothing like that!” you tried to say. “The sound of the rain was better here.” 

He looked at you strangely but accepted it with a shrug of his shoulders. “Anyway, I’m about to make breakfast, why don’t you clean up a bit? I’ll wake up the other brothers.”

You nodded and almost stumbled trying to get off the couch, before Jin caught you with an arm. You turned your head to see his face uncomfortably close to yours.

“Careful,” he whispered, his minty breath trailing across your cheeks and his eyes roving your face.

You felt your cheeks heat up before you almost threw yourself out of his touch. “Yeah, um, thank you!” you yelled behind you before you fled to upstairs.

————

By the time you cleaned your face and put on a bra, all of the boys— in various states of consciousness— were gathered around the dining counter.

“Y/N-ah!” Hoseok said enthusiastically, obviously one of the more awake ones. He wore a pair of flowered pants that ahjummas usually wore and white, long-sleeved tee. “Yoongi came in last night, he’s our other brother.”

“We met last night, Hoseok-ah,” Yoongi mumbled into a large cup that, hilariously, was engraved with the words “Daddy-Size”. “I came home around 1 AM and saw her on the couch.”

“Oh, was everything alright?” Namjoon inquired politely, stretching his broad muscles as he yawned. Even his loungewear looked professional.

Smiling uneasily, you took a seat at the counter next to Jungkook, whose head was buried in his arm. “Yeah, couldn’t sleep and the city lights calmed me down,” you reassured.

Jungkook suddenly jerked awake next to you, alarmed eyes peeking through his messy black hair. “H-huh?”

You grinned at him. “Good morning, Jungkook-ssi.”

He mumbled a good morning in the direction of the ground before his eyes zoomed into something at your collarbone.

‘Y/N-ssi, i-is that my shirt?” he asked shyly— the first words he has directed towards you.

You looked at the oversized navy shirt, which you had tucked into the pair of denim shorts you wore yesterday. “I think? Namjoon told me it was one of your own.”

His gaze whipped to Namjoon and he started sputtering as Namjoon snickered, putting on a pair of thick-framed glasses.

Suddenly, Jin swore as he looked at his phone. “Sorry guys, but there’s an emergency at the hospital. I need to go,” he said rushedly, racing to the closest to put on a pair of tennis shoes. “Yoongi, cook for them!”

He shut the basement door with a slam and suddenly the house was silent.

“Yoongi-hyung, please,” Taehyung, who had emerged from some hallway, begged with a pout on his petal lips. His voice was extra raspy this morning.

The black-haired man grunted before hiding his face behind his coffee cup. You took that as a no.

“We’re going to starve,” Jungkook complained into Hoseok’s shoulder, who cooed and patted the muscled man cutely.

“Well, I can cook for us if you’d like? As a thank you for letting me stay over?” you said nervously. All eyes turned towards you and you gulped, not used to having all of your brothers’ attention on you.

“That’d be lovely,” Namjoon said, squinting at a novel he had produced out of nowhere.

“Aw, is our cute dongsaeng going to cook for us? I’m living the dream,” Hoseok sighed dramatically.

You snorted and got out of your seat. “I saw enough ingredients for what I want to cook, so just sit tight.”

The boys thanked you and some exited the kitchen towards the living room. You tried to remember where you saw the ingredients yesterday, but the kitchen was extremely big and had those weird cabinets where you had to push in a certain corner to open.

“Uh, where are the onions?” you asked no one in particular.

“Yoongi-hyung,” Hoseok nudged the still tired looking man. “Next to Jin, you know the kitchen the best.”

The black-haired sighed heavily and got out of his seat, leaving the “Daddy-Size cup” on the counter. He opened the fridge and bent down to a drawer you hadn’t seen. “Green onions.”

You took the bag and thanked, expecting him to leave the kitchen. “What else do you need?”

He stood there, eyes boring a hole through your face. Even as he was sleepy, he still looked like a cool older brother.

Scanning the ingredients, counting the things you had and didn’t, you turned back to him. “Um, I just need butter, tomatoes, and cheese.”

Wordlessly, he grabbed the ingredients and set it down on the counter next to you. Really expecting he’d leave, he surprised you by pulling out a chopping board and knife.

“How do you need the onions and tomatoes cut, Y/N-ssi?” he asked roughly, raspy voice causing the hair at the nape of your neck to rise. You shook your head. He’s your brother, for god’s sake!

“I need both diced, but slice some of the tomato into thin wedges for presentation,” you asked politely.

He nodded and washed both of the vegetables, before quickly and neatly dicing them with an experienced hand.

You broke the eggs and as you whisked the egg mixture with a pair of chopsticks, you decided to break the silence.

“How old are you, Yoongi-ssi?” 

He didn’t pause in his slicing. “25 years old. How about you?”

“21, but turning 22 soon.”

Yoongi hummed and started on the tomatoes. “Ah, that means you’re university age then. Are you attending university right now?”

Nodding, you grabbed some salt and pepper to add flavor to the omelette.  “Yeah, I’m actually attending Yonsei with Jungkook-ssi. What about you?”

“I’m a freelance producer,” he said carelessly, neatly scraping diced tomato onto a plate. “But I graduated from an arts college overseas in classical performance.”

It seemed like many of the brothers were artistically-inclined, you noted as you washed the spinach. But it amused you that this cool-looking brother of yours, with pierced ears and effortlessly stylish street clothes, could play a fancy-looking instrument.

Your step brother cleared his throat and he stepped back. “Is there anything else you need me to do?”

You looked at the finely chopped tomatoes and onions and shook your head. “No, that’s all. Thank you for helping out.”

He inclined his head and padded out of the kitchen, collapsing on the couch with his hoodie over his head.

Turning on the heat, you put the omelette mixture in the pan and waited for it to cook through. As you were gathering the other ingredients to put in the pan, a chin nestled itself onto your shoulder.

“Oh? What is this?” a deep, husky voice rumbled next to your ear.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw Taehyung’s finely chiseled face so close to yours. Squeaking, you turned your attention back to the pan.

“Breakfast omelettes, Taehyung-ssi,” you replied a bit shakily, feeling the weight of his head on your shoulder and his breath puffing into your ear. “I hope you like it.”

Adjusting his bent over position, he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face into the crook of your neck. “I will, Y/N-ah. It’ll be delicious.”

Your face flamed and you willed the egg to cook faster, trying not to focus on how his large hands pressed warmly into your stomach.

“Hyung!” Jungkook exclaimed, barrelling out of nowhere. “Hyung, you can’t do that! Stop!” 

“Oh? Why not?” the editor asked monotonously, his lips moving over the sensitive skin of your neck. You stiffened and muffled a squeal, neary getting hot oil over your fingers. Your muscled classmate tried, unsuccessfully, to tug Taehyung’s arms from your body but for some reason, Taehyung’s hold on you was ironclad.

In the midst of Jungkook screaming in the background and the shouts of your other brothers, Taehyung sighed heavily and melted into your body. “I miss this,” he murmured.

Next Chapter: Press [ X ] for the Cheeky Type, Jimin! 

Chapter 8: Enter the Cheeky Type, Jimin!

Over the next few days, you slowly got used to the vibrant and varied personalities of the boys. The brothers were a rowdy bunch but they coaxed you out of your shell with unintentional hilarity and clumsy warmth. Even Jungkook, with your weird first meeting, took to accompanying you throughout school and engaging you in shy conversation. Visiting the house frequently, someone was always there to entertain you and coerce you into trying to move into the house.

However, as the days passed by, you saw neither hide nor hair of the mysterious seventh brother. None of the brothers seemed to be fazed. One day, as Namjoon drove you home, you decided to press the subject.

“Namjoon-ssi? Who is my seventh brother? I haven’t heard much of him,” you inquired shyly.

He hummed, leaning an arm casually against the window and driving between lanes with just one hand. Namjoon didn’t drive as recklessly as Jungkook, per se, but he seemed to think other cars were just nuisances on the road.

“I was wondering when you’d ask about that. Our other brother is not home a lot because he’s usually on tour,” Namjoon revealed in his deep voice. “He’s an idol.”

You gasped and looked at Namjoon in surprise. “You’re fucking with me.”

He chuckled, a chocolatey, rich sound that filled your ears and did funny things to your belly as he turned to exit the highway. “No, I’m not. Our little Chimmy is an idol.”

Taking out your phone, you opened up the web app. “Chimmy? Is that his name? Or does he have a stage name I need to find.”

Namjoon shook his head. “No, his name is Jimin. 23 years old, debuted 3 years ago.”

Smacking your head, you exclaimed, “Oh wait! I know him! I saw his birthday ads all over Seoul a few days ago. Wow, my brother is a celebrity, huh?” 

Typing his name into the search bar, millions of results popped into your browser. Gorgeous, fan-taken photos filled the image section and you clicked on one.

Wow. Jimin looked ethereal on stage, in a loose, white shirt and tight, black pants as he performed some sort of strenuous dance move. His plump lips, sharp jawline, and high cheekbones were still stunning in low quality photos. You were seriously starting to think your stepmother secretly paid for them from a lab. It really wasn’t fair that you, an average 4, were now related to solid fifteens. 

You clicked on a video with nearly 12 million views of him at a fanmeet event, his eyes crinkling and lips pulled up in a grin as he did aegyo for his adoring fans.

“He’s very popular, isn’t he?” you asked Namjoon rhetorically.

Namjoon snorted. “An understatement. We can’t go out in public with him unless he covers his hair and his entire face. He has security tailing him when we go to crowded places, it’s ridiculous.”

Something clicked in your head. “Ah!” you exclaimed. “That’s why you guys live there! And here I was, thinking you were all paranoid.”

His laugh filled the car again and you got a whiff of his musky cologne as he leaned over to adjust the air conditioner. “Yeah, even when we moved there a few years ago before Jimin’s popularity exploded, he had some crazy fans. Seoyeon, Jin, and I decided to choose Hannam Hill for their security.”

“You’re such good brothers,” you grinned at him. You swore you saw a hint of red beneath his collar as he cleared his throat.

“And we’re lucky we’re gaining such a good… sister.”

You tapped at your purse. “At least with my residence pass I won’t be detained now.”

The man next to you groaned and nearly facepalmed into the driver’s wheel.

“Do you have to remind me of this? I take it back, my sister sucks.”

——— 

Jungkook and you walked through the campus gates, finished with the Calculus class and exhausted after the test.

“Wait, shit, did I derive number eighteen right?” you fretted, your sweaty hands fiddling with your bag strap. “Oh my god now, I didn’t foil correctly!”

“Relax, Y/N, you did fine,” Jungkook snorted, no longer as painfully shy as he was when he first met you. You never did get why he had such a violent reaction to you at first, though.

“Easy for you to say, Mr. I-don’t-study-yet-I-still-get-A’s,” you huffed in annoyance, accidentally bumping shoulders with him.

He laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. An ‘eep!’ escaped your mouth but you found you couldn’t protest as Jungkook looked down at you with the cutest, bunny smile you had seen.

“Relax, Y/N. It’s just one test.”

You sulked and crossed your arms, trying to push the heat in your cheeks away. Clearing your throat you ducked from underneath his arms. You thought you saw a flash of disappointment in Jungkook’s face, but you quickly linked arms with him so you could walk more comfortably. His eyes widened and he looked upwards, the tips of his ears a flaming red.

Ignoring several stares from your fellow university students, you walked to the campus parking lot where Jungkook had parked his car.

“Jungkook-ah? Which car did you drive today?” you asked, flushing a bit as you heard your own words. Imagine what the you from a few weeks ago would’ve said. What kind of rich bitch did you turn into?

“The silver one. The Mercedes,” he said casually but you knew he was beaming with pride. He had revealed to you, one day when driving home, that he bought this car with his streaming money and not with cash from his brothers or family. Jungkook was insanely protective of this car. 

“Gotcha.”

Throwing your bags into the backseat, he started up the car. Feeling that it was a bit hot, you decided to roll down the window. Fumbling for a hair tie in your bag, you decided that putting your hair up would be smart.

“—gry, Y/N?”

“Huh?” you asked confusion, hair tie in your mouth. 

“I just asked if you were hungry, Y/N?” he said, voice trailing off in a question as he looked up from his phone. His eyes widened at you.

“Um, not really? But if you are, I can whip us up something once we get home,” you said confidently, twisting your hair into the tie. Huh, when did you start calling it home?

“... Jungkook?”

He nervously cleared his throat as you looked at him, pulling back your hair into the tie. The tip of his ears were red and he seemed a bit flustered. Your brother fumbled with the controls, accidentally turning on the windshield wipers. Biting back a smile, you smoothed down your hair.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

————— 

The house was silent as the two of you entered. It seemed no one was in the house today, all of your brothers very busy with their respective jobs.

“I’m going to take a shower, Y/N, “ Jungkook said as he climbed up the stairwell. 

You hummed affirmative as you threw your bag at the foot of the coffee table, collapsing into the comfy leather couch. Switching on the TV, you couldn’t find anything interesting so you settled on an entertainment channel.

“Thousands of fans crowded Incheon Airport’s International Terminal today…”

Snuggling into a sun spot on the couch, you nuzzled your face into a pillow. The warmth made you feel drowsy and you decided a quick nap was alright. Nodding off, you could hear the shower turn on upstairs.

“...as international Hallyu star Jimin arrived back in Korea …”

—————

“Oh? Who are you?”

You groggily opened your eyes to the high-pitched voice that was honey to your ears, an unconscious “huh?” coming out of your mouth. In your bleary vision, you saw lavender-blonde hair and pink, plump lips hovering above you.

The man snickered and you felt a smooth hand grasp your jaw to turn your head upwards. Your eyes focused and you swore you were still dreaming, because the face so close to yours could only be an angel’s. Ethereal eyes like a storm looked lazily down at you, his high cheekbones and narrow jaw highlighted by the warm light of golden hour.

“Are you a fan? You shouldn’t be here,” he scolded in a sing-song voice, clicking his tongue as he stroked a thumb over your chin.

You couldn’t think after being awoken from such a deep REM cycle and being near such an unearthly man, your thoughts jumbled and disjointed.

“Naughty, naughty girl,” he whispered, minty breath puffing against your face. “Well, if you’re here, I might as well make the most of it.”

With strength you hadn’t expected, he suddenly caged you into the couch— a leg between yours and the other on the floor, his hands trapping your hands above your heads. His silk shirt brushed against the exposed skin of your belly, making you shiver.

“H-hey!” you said, regaining your thoughts. “What the hell?”

He chuckled, a cruel edge to his voice as his face neared yours. “Oh, playing the innocent card are we?” His lips neared your ear and you froze, eyes wide as his plump lips brushed against your earlobe. “Don’t worry, baby girl, you’re pretty enough to pull it off.”

The man started to press a kiss at space between your ear and neck, and slowly started to trail down your sensitive neck. You inhaled sharply as his teeth and tongue prodded at your skin and he snickered, his voice vibrating against your skin. An involuntarily squeak left your lips as he bit playfully at your collarbone.

“H-Hyung?”

You both turned to see Jungkook, hair still wet from the shower, staring at you two in disbelief. His eyes were wide and his lips were opened in shock as he suddenly froze in the middle of the living room.

“Jungkookie!” the man said brightly, no trace of the breathy, seductive voice he had used to lull you into a trance. His limbs no longer trapped you as the lavender haired man sprang up and ran to the stock-still Jungkook.

“Aw, Jungkookie, I missed you,” the familiar yet still unknown man cooed as he clung to Jungkook’s broad shoulders. “It’s been so long,” he whined, lips pursed in a pout.

Still breathless from lavender boy’s attentions, you sat up on the couch and saw stars as the blood rushed to your head. Blinking to clear it away, you reached up to your neck to touch the spots where lavender boy had touched.

“Jungkook-ah?” you whispered, voice rough from lack of use. “Who’s this?”

Your classmate still stared at you in shock as lavender boy clung to him like a leech, cooing at Jungkook.

“Aw, is this your girlfriend, Jungkookie?” Angel boy said fretfully after a moment of silence. “I’m so sorry, I thought she was a fan! Forgive me!”

You cleared your throat nervously, righting your disheveled clothes and messy hair. “Look, I have no idea who the hell you are, but I am not Jungkook’s girlfriend nor your fan and either way, you should not be— be assaulting unsuspecting girls who just wanted to nap!”

“Who the hell am I?” Lavender boy retorted rudely, no longer seductive or cutesy as his eyes narrowed at you. “I live here, wench!”

“Well I’m about to, fool!” you sneered, crossing your arms.

“Jungkook-ie, call security as I deal with this clearly crazy lady!” The still unknown boy huffed, advancing towards you.

Jungkook finally got out of his trance and grabbed Jimin by the shoulder. “Jimin-Hyung, stop! Haven’t we talked about her in the groupchat a lot? She’s our new sister!”

Jimin froze and his eyebrows lifted minutely, whirling around to look at Jungkook. “Wait, what? We have a sister now?”

He looked at you differently, eyes scanning your figure disinterestedly. “Did Seoyeon—” he spat out the name like it was stale gum in his mouth, “—find another baby we didn’t know about? Another poor bastard like me?”

You got whiplash with how much he changed moods and started to inch away. Well, it seemed like your step brother was nothing like how he portrayed himself in the videos you had seen online about him. A frown pushed at your lips.

Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, hyung, mom got married again to Y/N’s father. She’s our new step sister now.”

Jimin stayed silent before he turned to you again, his eyes mocking. A shit-eating smirk crawled up his lips. “Well, sister dearest, welcome to the family!”

Arc: Character Introductions Ended. Press [ X ] to continue?

A/N: If you’ve watched BroCon and you’re curious to who each person is based on, here’s the guide:

Jin (Doctor) = A mixture of Uyko and Masaomi

Namjoon (Businessman) = Natsume

Jungkook (Gamer/ Uni Student) = Yusuke

Hoseok (Dancer) = Himself lol he was supposed to be Subaru but i didn’t want to make him super angsty. Don’t worry, in this story he’ll be more than just his stage persona :)))

Taehyung (Magazine editor) = Louis

Yoongi (Producer) = mixture of Yuusuke’s tsundere-ness and Iori’s calmness

Jimin (Idol) = Fuuto with a bit of Tsubaki’s personality

Anyways, if you enjoyed it, please comment and reblog!!! I appreciate any feedback you may have, whether it be a sentence or a whole dang paragraph— I love it all :))) Please, if you’re doing okay, please help me pay for school through my Ko-Fi (link in my profile).

Arc II: Decisions and Settling In will be released in a month!! Comment if you’d like to be tagged :))

[anothertimdrakestan]

2 Times Jason Todd Took Your Breath Away (Jason Todd x Reader)

this is for the ppl who requested jason todd x super!reader fics!

words: 1.4k 

1.

“I thought we were city heroes, why the hell am I trekking through a forest?” you whisper-yelled into your comm, but Tim was having none of it. 

“You know as well as I do that we’ve gotta win this shit, best team remember?” you rolled your eyes, but agreed nonetheless. It was the once-every-three-years trip when the supers and bats were forced to go on a “family” trip. The term family is used quite loosely by the bats but your family was quick to coin it as the family trip even against Bruce’s disgust. 

“Um, I think I’ve got sight of a flag, oh- yup! Blue flag spotted let’s fuck ‘em up.” Kon came over the comm, you’d gotten paired with the love birds for capture the flag, but it was fine because your team was way overpowered, which meant when you won you’d get the pick of the night's dinner. The goal was to capture as many flags as possible without losing your own. 

“Okay, stealth mode get the flag, y/n head back to base, if there’s no one at blue it means they’re going for the rest of us which is a code 2 alarm, especially with Todd and Dami on the blue team.” you suppressed a laugh at the literal make-believe codes Tim had decided on for this game, for the bats this game held some sort of bragging rights, but for you Kon it was just a chance to stretch your legs. 

As Kon secured the blue flag you knew your team had won, Tim was at home base sitting on 2 other flags, and there was no shot anyone was getting past him. Strolling back through the woods you picked up on the light breathing on someone to your left. Whipping your head to the side you saw your own green flag waving in a pair of gloved hands. 

“What the fuck?” you paced up to the tree. “Little birdie forgot to watch their own nest!” Jason’s laughter bubbled up as he twirled the little green cloth on it’s wooden stick. 

“I- I wasn’t even at base? Isn’t Tim there?” you tried to play innocent, knowing if you got close enough you could snatch the flag and run. “Mhm he was, but he was too busy talking to Kon to notice me,” you inched closer, trying to look upset, “No fair! They’re always distracted.” you pouted, looking up at Jason who nodded in agreement. “So distracted,”

In what felt like a flash you were suddenly pinned to the ground, the air knocked clean out of your lungs. “GO GO GO!” Jason shouted; from your position flat on the ground you tilted your head to the side, watching Damian and Jon book it from your base towards theirs, a blue flag in Jon’s hands. 

“Brats!” you called after them. With a breathless sign you brought your head up, face to face with Jason. There were black lines on each of his cheeks, and his hair was pushed back by a makeshift blue cloth he’d clearly ripped from the collar of his shirt, as it was ragged and ribbed from where he’d ripped it apart.

His face was just an inch from yours, warm breath fluttering on your lips. “Always too distracted y/n” he whispered with a grin, eyes flitting down to your lips which were parted, gasping for air. 

You knew you could overpower him and stand up, his weight wasn’t fully crushing you, like he wanted to know if you’d stand up and leave.

You didn’t. There were far more fun things to do on the forest floor.

2.  

You used to be scared of heights. It was the dumbest thing too, a superhero with the ability to fly scared of falling? Your brothers had given you the most shit, especially when Jon was up in the clouds before you were flying above three story buildings. But you proved time and time again that you can be a damn good superhero and not fly like a plane- or whatever the old saying was. 

You’d gotten better, months of forcing yourself to jump off varying heights just to prove you could fly, sometimes even hitting the ground just to assert that you wouldn’t even go splat if you tried, but it wasn’t ever really rational was it? Most fears aren’t.

Jason knew too, you guys weren’t exactly “dating” more like just being friends that do whatever friends do, it was easier that way. You’d gotten into a rhythm of visiting Jason after the sun set in Metropolis, swiftly sailing through city streets once all the lights were off. That’s how you’d landed perched on a lower roof in Gotham, sharing milkshakes and trying to point out stars through the Gotham haze. 

“So this isn’t scary? We aren’t too high up?” Jason sat up, scooting forwards to dangle his feet off the ledge of the building. You sat up, letting your own feet hang, “not terrifying, there’s like butterflies in the stomach at the thought of falling, but I guess I know I’ve tested my ability to catch myself from here,” you explained, looking down at the sidewalk as your stomach did somersaults. 

“Well, okay. Look at that building, how high up could you got before it’s too much?” he pointed to a Gotham skyscraper. Taking a gulp you assessed its height, “right there, sixth story, god that’s only like halfway up.” you mused, shaking your head at the thought.

“Cool, let's go then.” Jason snatched your drink out of your hands and grappled towards the top story of the building with light-hearted laugh. Your first reaction was to stand up, starting after Jason as he grappled higher, and higher, and higher, focussing solely on the familiar frame of one of your closest friends, and- suddenly you were standing at the top of a Gotham skyscraper. 

“How the fuck am I up here right now,” you felt your knees buckling, your breath was staggered. Jason was at your side, letting you lean on him while he tilted your chin up to the sky. 

As you looked up you leaned more into his embrace, your head resting on his shoulder as you looked at the stars. 

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, unable to fathom how beautiful they looked up close, god you were so high up you felt like you could reach out and touch the stars. But it wasn’t scary, because you had your rock there to ground you. 

“There is so much more to see up here, so much beauty, why not fly a little higher?” Jason’s voice was deep and full, as you met his eyes you realized they’d been solely on you. With your face getting increasingly warm you let yourself hover just a little bit, trying to swallow the nerves as Jason took your hand, leading you to the very edge of the building. 

“I’ve gotcha, look I won’t let go, just go a little further.” Jason was smiling, taking both your hands in his as he spun you towards the air. Letting yourself float with his support you focused on his eyes, trying to breathe as you know the only thing beneath your feet was air. “You’re doing so good, I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, letting the silence of your achievement soak into your soul. 

You could feel your hands shaking in his, but you mustered your strength to look down, noticing just how far you were from the ground. 

“I’m doing it.” you said, almost astonished at your own feat. “No one ever doubted you except yourself.” Jason replied, letting go of one of your hands to twirl you in the air. With a giggle you allowed yourself to spin, it felt like power was soaking into you, you’d gone from feeling the air sucked out of you to truly breathing for what felt like the first time in your life. 

Confident with your power, you let go of his hand, steadying yourself with a grin. Jason’s hands covered his mouth as he let out a strangled noise of pride as you began to twirl around in the sky. 

Rushing up to him you crushed him in a hug, unable to show your gratitude. He hadn’t fully cured you, your hands were still shaking, but it felt so good to know you could fly as high as you wanted and there was always a person to turn to, a person to call home.

~

short n sweet! hope you enjoyed :) 

[please-buckme]

A Broken Heart.

Lee Bodecker x fem!reader

Chapter 2

Chapter warnings: 18+ mentions of death, mentions of sex, cursing, Lee being an ass, angst, meninist behaviors

Chapter summary: You move back home after three years to find your heart still in shambles.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 // Chapter 3

3 Years Later

After moving a whole county away, Highland Ohio to be exact, you stayed for quite some time. Your aunt was amazing and the sweetest woman you’d ever known, and living with her was a breeze. She’d even gotten you a job at the auto shop her recently deceased husband left to her, which you loved. Life was good, for a while. You never had a reason to come home until your momma got sick.

For the past year you watched as your momma slowly faded away until the last week of April when she finally passed in her sleep. You were devastated, of course, but not only because of her death. She didn’t have much to her name besides a couple thousand in the bank and the house you’d left so long ago, which she left all to you.

The house was old. White paneling a faint tint of brown, grey shutters that were almost all off their hinges and rust anywhere you looked. It was a fixer upper and there’s no way you could sell it in its current condition. So, you decided to move back to Knockemstiff, just for the time being.

In all honesty, you’d grown to hate that town. Nothing but bad memories and any good memories you’d had were tarnished completely. So, once the house was decent enough to sell, you were out of there and back to the life you’d created in Highland.

Your aunt and you drove together in her pick up truck back to the house after your momma passed. She helped you unload your stuff and take things to the necessary rooms.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? I can make my famous pancakes. I know you love’em.” She grinned.

“As tempting as that sounds, I’m fine. Please, I insist you go now before it gets dark.” You pull your aunt into a hug, a tight hug.

“I’m gonna miss havin’ you around, kiddo.” She sighed, her breath fanning over your neck.

“It’s only for a few months. I’ll be back to annoying you in no time, oldie.”

“Hey, I’m not old.” She laughed and pointed her finger at you sternly but still in a lighthearted way.

“And I’m not a kid.”

She laughed a little more then sighed, “Well, I guess I’ll head out. Call me if you need anything and don’t forget to go down to Billy’s tomorrow. He’s excited to bring you in.”

You smiled, “How could I forget? I need some sort of income to fix this craphole up.”

You walked your aunt to her car and waved her goodbye as she drove way. Your eyes welled up but you made sure not to cry in front of her or she’d never leave.

Once you went back in, you immediately got to work. Starting in the kitchen, you didn’t have much but a few coffee cups. The house was still occupied with your momma’s things and you were already dreading having to go through it all.

Things started to come together room by room as you worked most of the day away. You cleaned and rearranged things to your liking now that it was your house. It felt almost empowering to do what you want. You’d never lived alone so, in a way, this was an adventure as well.

You took your old room instead of the master, since that’s where your momma passed. It gave you goosebumps just thinking about and you knew you’d never get any sleep if you stayed in there. Your room wasn’t big but it was good enough for now and much better than sleeping in your momma’s death bed, hard pass.

You’d taken a seat on the couch with some tea you’d brewed up earlier that morning. This was the first time you sat down since arriving, and of course there’s a knock at the door.

“Whatever you’re selling, I promise you, I ain’t interested.” You shout, too exhausted to even attempt getting up.

The knocking continued, “Oh, for fucks sake.” You groaned under your breath and stood on your aching feet to tell them to fuck off in person. You opened the door, “did you not hear me the first time. I said-“

“Hi, Y/n” Lee greeted as he removed his hat.

You scoffed, “Can I help you with somethin’, Sheriff?”

Lee stood there, fiddling with the bill of his hat. His belly had gotten a little bigger and his cheeks had gotten a little chubbier, but you couldn’t help the hitch in your throat when his wedding ring caught your eye. Just a basic silver band, nothing special. But it still left a hollow pit in your stomach.

“I-“ he cleared his suddenly dry throat. “I heard you was back in town. Thought I’d come see for ma self if the rumors were true.”

“Welp, here I am. You can go now.”

“Y/n, I-“

“No, Lee, please. I’ve had a long day and I honestly don’t feel like talking to you right now. No, I take that back. I don’t feel like talking to you at all.”

“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think, doll.” He grins.

“Goodbye, Sheriff.” You shut the door only to hear him holler at you from the other side.

“Still can’t say my name, huh, Doll? Boy, I really did a number on you, didn’t I?” Your heart sank at his words. It seemed your pain was a joke to him this whole time. You’d always pictured him crying alone like you were but clearly that was never the case. Y’all’s relationship didn’t seem one sided until you were the only one hurt by the fall out.

“Welcome home, Y/n.” He said before you heard his boots click against the porch as he left.

You took a deep breath as you backed away from the door. Tears rimmed your eyes and you scoffed aloud to yourself. After three years you still weren’t over him and you knew that. You didn’t know, however, that he’d still have such a hold on you. And by the way he reacted to how sensitive you were towards the situation still didn’t help the ever growing void that ran through your entire loveless body. The only man you ever loved looked at you as if you were a quick fuck and a punchline.

A tear burned against your cheek and you were quick to wipe it away. You swore to yourself that you’d never cry over that man again and you won’t, instead you decided it was time for a much needed bath.

The bath was scolding hot, just how you liked it, and you opened up a bottle of wine as a sort of reward for the work you’d done today. Once the water got cold and the wine ran out, you brushed your hand and teeth and went to bed.

//

The sun beamed down against your skin as you walked to the local auto shop where your aunt had set you up with another job. You were always good with numbers and they desperately needed someone on the books. Your job would be to look at their spending over the last few months and figure out some sort of budget. You did that for your aunt at her shop, so this didn’t worry you at all.

“Hi, you must be Billy.” You greet the owner, “I’m

y/n, Peggy’s niece.”

“Oh, yes. I’m glad you finally made it down.” He beamed, shaking your hand, “How long will you be here for?”

“I’m not sure, actually. Just until I get my house fixed up enough to sell.” You say, retracting your hand from his sweaty one.

“Ah, well as luck would have it, our secretary just quit on us last week, so there’s a position you’ll adjust to right fine.”

You scoffed, “Wait a minute. Did you say secretary?”

“Yeah. You need to get your hearing checked, Honey?” He grinned. What is it with the men in this town?!

“No, I heard you just fine. My problem is that I was supposed to be your Budget Holder, not a damn secretary.” Your face was turning a touch of pink as you became increasingly annoyed.

“That’s a man's job, sweetie. We don’t you blown a fuse tryin’ ta add up all them numbers, now do we?”

“You can’t be serious.” You say flatly.

“Look, it’s the only position we got. Take it or leave it.”

Everything in you wanted to March out of that shop and never go back again. A secretary's position is nothing to frown upon, but to only be offered it because you’re a woman was despicable. Sadly, you needed this job and it would only be for a few months. So, when you told him you’d take the job you swallowed every ounce of respect you had for yourself. Knockemstiff was truly the worst town in America.

“Sounds great. We’ll see you tomorrow for training. There’s no dress code but there are a few things you’ll need to know before starting. I’ll fill you in once we start your training tomorrow.” He shook your hand again, completely ignoring the furious grimace on your face.

“Great. See you tomorrow.” You mumbled, walking away so you didn’t ‘accidentally’ hit your new boss.

//

Before heading home you decided to stop and grab some things for the house. Being sick, your momma didn’t eat much besides soup, and there was an over abundance of vanilla flavored Ovaltine cans littering the kitchen counters, which you hated.

The second the doors opened, all eyes were on you. You even heard a faint gasp coming from the woman at the register. A smirk crept upon your face. These people's lives were so boring that they still aren’t over your breakup that happened so long ago. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a cart and headed down the produce aisle.

Once you grabbed the vegetables you’d need for a stew, you headed towards the baking aisle. You need the ingredients for an upside down pineapple cake your momma used to make for you as a kid. Your aunt was coming into town on Saturday to lend a hand and celebrate her birthday. You told her to go have fun, but she insisted on spending her special day with you.

As you searched for the baking soda, you heard your name.

“Did you see Y/n’s back in town?” A lady with a high pitched voice whispered.

“I did. I just saw her. Poor thing. She’s probably still caught up on the sheriff. Prolly wish it was her that was on his arm instead of Laura-Jean.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I know it. Wouldn’t you, though? He’s so handsome.” The lady with the high patched voice giggled.

“Oh, hush! Don’t say things like that.” The other lady joined the high pitched one in whispered giggles. “Oh my goodness, here he comes.” She cleared her throat, “Afternoon, Sheriff.”

“Evenin’,Ladies. Y’all behavin’ yourselves?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

They both giggled and in unison said, “Yes, Sheriff.”

“Oh give me a break.” You grimaced to yourself.

“Heard Y/n’s back in town.” The high pitched one spoke up. Your face burned. Why would they bring you up to him so bluntly like that? Everyone in this town was so unbelievably nosy.

“I- I heard. Actually just went to see her yesterday.” He said, clearing his throat.

“Uh-oh, the misses didn’t like that, I’m sure.” They giggled.

“Oh, no. She didn’t mind. I was just droppin’ by to give her my condolences about her momma dyin’. Then, she slammed the door in my face. I guess she’s still pretty upset with me.” He was pouting, trying to get some sort of sympathy. If you rolled your eyes any harder you thought they’d pop out of your head.

“Oh, you poor thing. Is there anything we can-“

Suddenly the baking soda slipped from your hand and scattered all other the floor in a puff of dust. “Shit, shit, shit.” You whispered to yourself.

“What was that?” One of the ladies asked.

“Excuse me, ladies.” Lee said. You could hear his boots clacking against the floor on there way over to you.

Shit.

You desperately wanted to run away but leaving this mess for someone to clean up wasn’t right, not even with the predicament you found yourself in. “Well, well, well,” Lee mocked as he rounded the corner. “Only here for less than a day and you’re already causin’ trouble.”

“Stay out of this, Bodecker.” You huff, trying to scoop the baking soda back into the card box it spilled from.

“Was you eavesdroppin’, girl?” He asked, kicking the soul of your shoe.

You scoffed, “Oh, please. I could give two shits what you say about me, Bodecker.”

He leaned in close, hovering over your left side. You heard him chuckle which startled you. He was so close. You could feel the familiar heat radiating from his body and smell that familiar cologne. His lips came down close to your ear. He licked them and then whispered, “If ya weren’t eavesdroppin’, how’d ya know I was talkin’ bout you, hm?”

Your eyes shuttered closed as he spoke, feeling his hot breath against your cheek. His deep southern drawl always made you weak. It took you back to those times in the back of the cruiser. He whispered such dirty praises in your ear when you would ride his cock. Those dirty words that could make you cum in seconds.

“You still with me, doll?” You felt him tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You flitched and stood up, “I- don’t touch me and stop calling me doll, alright? I really don’t have time for your games today, sheriff, and I’m not even really sure what you’re playin’ at in the first place.”

He smirked, running a thumb across his lip, “Darlin, I think the only thing I ever played was you..”

“I-“ your breath hitched in the back of your throat, “I have to go.” You turned to walk away, leaving the mess you’d made and your cart behind. Your eyes welled up with tears again. You didn’t know the man that stood in front of you. Lee was nothing but good to you when you dated and now he’s the most hateful man you’d ever met. The man you loved had disappeared and there’s nothing you could do to bring him back, no matter how bad you wanted to. A tear stained your cheek as you sped through the aisle. You could hear Lee hollering for you to stop but you wouldn’t this time.

All the heartbreak and sorrow that you’d left behind was creeping its way back in. The sooner you sold the house and got the hell out of there, the better.

Dividers by: @firefly-in-darkness

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