#fucked up little rat man steals eyes and tries to end the world

[adri0nslithers]

have a habit of loving media thats on a scale of “what the fuck??” to “this is terrible on a second glance” plot wise because i crave characters with FLAVOR

#blorbos #for instance! #janus deceit sanders #elias bouchard #gerard keay #xanxus #jaster mereel #kaitou kuroba #desmond miles #danny fenton #hell even jack frost! #genesis rhapsodos #fucking. white aka ichigos hollow #all these fandoms are batshit fucking insane and i love them #my fucked up blorbos #man goes insane and collects the plural community in a fandom by accident #fucked up little rat man steals eyes and tries to end the world #family drama brings up a conspiracy about the nature of physics and magic in the world #culture known for not giving a shit about blood cares a lot about having a weapon that was only rediscovered like ten years ago for plot #the easter bunny is fucking australian and ages with belief but some teenager stays a teenager (or young adult source depending) regardless #stage magician discovers his dad was a thief. joins the family business for revenge but goes out of his way to be funny and harmless #ffvii is well-put together mostly but also what the fuck. alien magic parasite #was the capitalism and human experiements and child soldiers not enough??? #anyway im just very queer and it shows in my favorites list. this is very incomplete but ive given myself permission to rant so i will <3 #a lot of these dudes have cool coats. i also want a cool coat #a lot of these dudes are also very gender. in fact. several are gender enough they ended up in my head #ah to be a chaotic bastard with an incomprehensible moral code and a complicated relationship with identity #also good fashion sense <3 #well okay jasters kind of an exception there he clearly delineates his moral code for the world to see and i love him for it #incomprehensible by earth standards maybe

[awkwardgtace]

Interesting Sample Part 1

Heyy finally getting a bit more fore the mafia AU.

This time we get to learn just how the human Ryder wound up with the ruthless Kamia family. And how he got to stay with them.

TW: Some dehumanization, broken bones, panic, blood, references to giants eating humans

Part 2 , Part 3(Final)

Interesting Sample

Ryder ran as fast as he could. A foot stomped down just barely missing him. He almost lost his balance, but managed to turn it into a dive under a chair. He was breathing heavily as the weight of the man chasing him slammed into the ground. Ryder scrambled back to try and get any distance from the giant. A scream escaped him as the chair was roughly thrown to the side.

“Fucking brat,” the giant said. Ryder flinched at the loud voice. He climbed to his feet planning to run again, but a hand slammed down on him before he could. He screeched when he thought he heard something crack. “So much for making it worth my while agreeing to take you along.”

Ryder had to focus on breathing. The pain was only in his arm, he could overcome that. He just had to wait for the idiot to move to pick him up. Then he could run again, at least hide until things settled down. He was smart enough to get away.

“Sir!” someone called. The same someone who ratted him out. All he did was steal a little of the fancy food the jerk holding him down bought. It wasn’t even noticeable, but he acted like it was the end of the world. He just wanted something other than the stale food the giant normally left out for him. “The eldest Kamia kid is coming!”

Heavy steps made Ryder jump as the other giant came out. He didn’t need to see the traitor’s face to know there was a confident smirk. It wasn’t Ryder’s idea in the first place to take some. Stupid assistant said it would be fine. The hand around him grew just a bit heavier. It made him gasp for air.

“Maybe you can make up my investment in you after all,” the heavy handed giant said. Ryder’s eyes went wide as the fingers curled in around him. He wasn’t getting a chance to run this time.

—----------------------------------------------

Felix kept a bored look on his face as he walked down the street. A few new stores popped up recently and his dad asked him to see just what they were selling. There’d been some rumors that even the other families weren’t happy to hear. His mom would be handling it, but he was finding the proof. The newcomers liked to think he was just a dumb kid who wouldn’t know any better.

So far none of the stores had anything obviously wrong. A few he knew his parents would target later. Clear them out and get the humans to safety. He wanted to do something more to help when he was older. He’d find some way to be useful.

“Hey little Kamia,” a voice called. It was different than any he was used to hearing. ‘Little Kamia’ certainly wasn’t a name he’d heard before. A rather short stocky man ran up to him. There was a small box clasped in meaty hands. It didn’t leave a good feeling in Felix’s stomach.

“Can I help you?” Felix asked. The man leaned in close with a conspiratorial smile. It made him angry. Adults who treated him like this were never up to something he wanted a part of.

“I just opened a business here. Selling only top of the line goods. I was hoping you could give your father a good word after getting a view of what I have.”

Felix narrowed his eyes. The box in the man’s hands seemed a lot smaller than it did at first. Too small for what was implied. Felix just gave him a small nod waiting for the presentation of his stock. The man seemed almost giddy as he opened the small box. Inside was someone who shouldn’t be there.

Ryder should have known other humans wouldn’t help him. Being gagged and tied didn’t make this whole situation better. It was even worse knowing they pitied him. They still tried to cushion his arm. Of course the jerky giant would keep the other humans in the place hidden from him until now. He was just an example of what happens when you misbehave. Apparently this time it was being given to some random giant kid.

Golden eyes glared at him and made him wish he could say anything. Huge fingers reached forward, it seemed like they could dwarf the hand that crushed him earlier. Fingers as wide as he was tall pinched his sides. The giant kid plucked him from the box like a toy. At least he hoped it was a toy. The eyes he was held in front of seemed to bleed a different idea.

“What exactly are you showing me? This one doesn’t seem to be worth even half price,” the kid said. Ryder had tried to ignore the discussion about what he’d cost. He managed to turn enough to see the cruel smile of the man he’d been entrusted to. He might have actually been sold to him based on how things were going, and how far his old town was by now.

“He’d be a good treat, fun toy for a good kid too,” the jerk of a giant said. Ryder started to struggle hearing that. He knew he should keep his arm still just in case he survived, but he had to escape. He wasn’t getting eaten alive. The hand holding him started to move. The fingers tightened just enough to hold him still, the care in the way he was held firmly was cruel. “Been trouble, I don’t suggest keeping him. Why not give him a taste?”

He was brought up and up until he was met with the giant mouth. He tried to scream around the gag they’d placed in his mouth. There was no luck in freeing himself. The gargantuan tomb just came closer and closer until he was released into the gaping maw. Ryder kept trying to fight as the tongue pulled him in. All the light disappeared as the lips closed, his death almost guaranteed.

Despite knowing he wouldn’t escape he kept fighting. The muscle moving him around would hopefully hurt later. Although it was a lot bigger than him. He was pushed around until he was set under the tongue, but still safe from the giant’s teeth. From where he was held he could see as the giant placed their tongue on their teeth and bit down slightly. The blood from the self inflicted injury coated him a bit as well.

The tongue continued to move him around the mouth. Ryder was pushed back a bit, but still kept under the tongue. Light filtered in from the now open lips. He managed to move enough to see the tongue lick the sharp teeth that apparently spared him.

“Interesting taste,” the giant said around him. The voice was loud and hurt his ears, but it was probably better than dead. He couldn’t see anything, but felt the sigh blow over him. “We do like troublesome humans, does this cover what you want for him?”

“For you little Kamia, you can have him. Consider it a free sample, I have a few more like that too,” the one who gave him away said. Ryder was frankly insulted. He was definitely more than just an interesting taste or a sample. Although if being an interesting sample kept him alive he’d take it.

“I’ll make sure my parents know.”

Ryder was trapped in darkness again. He could feel the steps of the giant as he moved. He could keep struggling and trying to free himself. It seemed like a bad plan. He wasn’t killed, he was probably just saved for something later. He’d known giants that were better towards humans in his old town. Before he wound up with the creep of a shop owner. This one at least probably wouldn’t kill him. Maybe.

Ryder was hot and uncomfortable where he was being kept. The tongue rested heavily on him, which at least kept him from getting near the teeth or the throat. Each of the giant’s steps made him bounce despite the weight above him. He tried to imagine himself being anywhere else, but the small pooling of drool that was regularly cleared out with a loud swallow made it hard. Eventually he was moved roughly followed by the giant sucking in a deep breath.

Ryder hadn’t been prepared for that. He tried to hold his own from the sudden deprivation of oxygen. It wasn’t doing much, his chest was already starting to burn. He squirmed to try and get the gag off again. It would help… maybe. The giant quickly exhaled, this time pushing Ryder closer to the front of his mouth. The sharp teeth were close leaving him with a fear of what was going to happen next.

The mouth was opened wide and he stared across to a brick wall. His view was blocked as massive fingers reached in, covering him in shadow. The same ones that grabbed him earlier pinched his sides again. He was pulled out just barely avoiding touching the sharp fangs. It took all his self control not to immediately try to get free again. He’d survived the giant’s mouth; he could wait until he could run.

Ryder was carefully set on a palm. It was the first time he got a good look at the giant. He’d never seen golden eyes before, he wasn’t one to talk when his own were silver. He didn’t like the glare on the giant’s face. Fingers clamped down around him, he couldn’t move at all. He tried to struggle, letting out a muffled scream when his broken arm slipped.

“It’s ok,” the giant whispered with a squeak to his voice. Any other time he would laugh at it. The other hand blocked his vision, a single finger coming near his face. Ryder tried desperately to free himself. A sharp claw touched his skin and dragged across his face. The tape holding the gag in place was lifted by the finger. In a strange show of deftness, the giant removed the tape completely.

Ryder was flipped on his stomach by those fingers. At first he wanted to be patient, but the hot breath on his back changed his mind. He tried to struggle despite the flaring pain in his arm. The fingers around him tightened before he’d made even imaginary progress. There was a sigh before he was moved closer. He felt the sharp teeth graze along his spine. A clack of them meeting made him shudder. Then he was pulled away.

He was turned again. There was still a glare on him, but he wasn’t as bothered by it. Fingers blocked his vision again, but they just pulled away the ropes holding him. He stared up at the giant unsure what to do. He didn’t like not knowing.

“So,” his voice came out hoarse, “what next?”

Felix almost dropped the human in surprise when he talked. None of them ever spoke to him after he’d faked eating them or had gone through with tasting them. If they did it was just begging for their lives. After hurting himself to make whoever sold them or gave them to him believe they were gone it was always painful. He knew what he looked like, who his family was, but he tried to be like his parents. He wanted to help humans, just like they did.

“I take you home,” he said. He’d never known what to tell them. Usually he would just walk off once they were out of his mouth. Usually they weren’t tied up and gagged.

“What then?” the human asked. “Am I a pet? A toy? A tiny servant?”

“Of course not!” Felix jumped at his own voice. He ducked down to hide more in case anyone heard him. He’d almost forgotten he was still in public. “We get you out of this place, somewhere things like this won’t happen.”

“Right, sure.” The human curled in on themself.

Felix just sighed. He took a minute to really look at the human in his hand. They seemed short compared to the others he’s held. He brought his hand closer to his face. Their clothes were ripped and seemed to have blood on them. Judging by the scent it was mostly the human’s blood. He scrunched his nose up, but still brought the human even closer.

Their skin was dirty and pale. He couldn’t see their eyes well. The position they sat in made it hard to make out much of their face. It seemed an odd position. His eyes went wide when he noticed they were shielding their side.

“Did… I hurt you?” Felix asked. His voice was barely a whisper. After all this time he messed up.

“It was the guy who gave me to you. Took a bit of some fancy food he’d left out. Guy almost crushed me, just broke my arm instead,” the human whispered. The voice sounded close to tears. “Changing your mind?”

“No… We just need to hurry then.”

Felix didn’t wait for a response. He curled his fingers tightly around the human and ran off. He had to get home. His parents would know what to do. They would call someone to take care of the human’s arm. Until then he’d keep them safe. He stuffed his hand with the human in his pocket and focused on keeping his concern hidden.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ryder didn’t enjoy the ride around in a pocket. It wasn’t as bad as it could be since he was still held. Getting knocked around with a broken arm seemed a sure fire way to make it worse. The hand holding him didn’t actually hurt, it was kind of nice. He’d heard the giant talking a few times; he tightened his grip on Ryder every time.

He was pulled from the pocket and into the light. It was almost as bad as when the sun blinded him after the box. This time he was held against a chest. He couldn’t look around, but it was a lot quieter now. He wanted to trust the giant holding him. Others he met weren’t gentle when holding him like this.

The sound of a door pulled Ryder from his thoughts. The hand holding him flattened a bit. He got a nice view of a place that seemed bigger than any building he’d ever seen. There were fingers blocking some of his view, but he managed to see a massive couch. Someone was sitting on it, but he didn’t care about that. He tried to take in more of the room.

A huge staircase led to another floor. It felt like the place would topple if a bunch of giants were all up there. He pulled his eyes from that and passed over a set of double doors. He’d sneak in there if he got the chance. There were exits to more of the house, along with a single door to the left. Somehow the door gave off a vibe of danger. He didn’t want to go near that one.

“Felix,” a loud feminine voice said. Ryder just nodded to himself, he knew the giant’s name now. He saw the person sitting start to stand. Then watched her keep going up. She was taller than any giant he’d ever seen. He dug his fingers into Felix’s skin. “How did it go?”

The massive woman came towards them. It seemed like her steps were lighter than the shorter giant holding him. That sounded more like his imagination. He managed to catch the moment she noticed a human. There was an awful feeling when her eyes locked on him, and shiver he couldn’t avoid under the intense stare. Felix didn’t try to hide him. Ryder was out in the open with an angry giant glaring at him.

“Where?” her voice seeped with anger. Ryder curled up to try and hide behind the fingers around him. It didn’t work when she stepped even closer towering over him and Felix.

“The newest shop, the last on the street. I was given a sample ,” Felix spat out. The fingers around him curled protectively, he was starting to like this Felix guy. He might try to find a way to stick around. It actually seemed like there would be an attempt to keep him safe.

The woman disappeared from above him. Her steps were heavier now, more like what he’d expected after she stood. It was almost horrifying how clear they felt in Felix’s hand. The woman looked different by the time she towered over them again. Like death in the flesh.

“I’ll be home late tonight. I’ll see you in the morning, bring the human to your father,” she said. Ryder saw the door open up behind Felix and just like that she was gone.

Felix was on the move again. He was along for the ride as the giant approached the door he’d decided was bad. He tensed, fully considering jumping from the more open hand. He’d probably survive at this height, humans were durable. Then he could figure out a place to hide.

“It’s just my dad, you’ll be fine,” Felix mumbled. That comment was quite possibly the least reassuring thing that could be said. Let’s go meet the dad of the Kamia family. He didn’t know who the Kamias were or why their family mattered, but if the jerk of a giant he was with before liked them then Ryder couldn’t.

All his opinions on the matter didn’t get voiced. The gaps in the fingers surrounding him closed. Felix paid too much attention. Ryder did get a nice view of the dangerous door opening. A white ceiling plus the sound of writing. He didn’t like it, writing had yet to mean something good for him. Usually it was showing the countdown until he was let out of a jar or a box.

“Dad,” Felix said.

The writing stopped, so did Felix. The fingers hiding him didn’t move though. He heard the creak of a chair from somewhere in the room. A second later he felt the impact of something heavy. The impact continued in a rhythm he knew well, someone was walking. Ryder just stared up until a giant as big as the woman came into his view. This one embodied one word. Intimidating.

Before speaking, the new one actually looked down at him. He wilted under the stern expression. It got worse when the protective fingers around him started to flatten. Immediately followed by the massive giant crouching way too fast. He was still towering like this, but now Ryder couldn’t even pretend to hide.

“You’re young,” the new giant said. His voice was loud and commanding. Ryder just nodded he didn’t think he could get away without responding.

“His arm is broken…” Felix said. Ryder’s blood ran cold as a look of anger appeared on the new giant. The gaze started to shift to Felix. He didn’t know what to expect, but he wasn’t about to let someone get blamed when they saved him.

“The guy who tied me up as a sample did it!” he shouted. The fingers around him curled up again followed by the angry face staring down at him. He had to force himself not to try and squirm to hide beneath the fingertips. A heavy sigh escaped the new giant.

“We’ll be taking care of him, Felix-”

“Wait! What do you mean take care of him? He has other humans, what's going to happen to them!?” For a second it looked like the other giant softened. White hair fell into the giant’s face as he leaned forward.

“The humans will be safe, Kamias don’t hurt humans. I’ll find a doctor. Felix get him set up somewhere safe.”

As the giant stood and started to walk away Felix pulled him close. He looked up to see a much softer gaze than he expected. He was carefully held close to Felix’s chest as the giant started to walk again. He could hear the sound of the other’s voice as he was brought somewhere.

“We’ll go to my room,” Felix said. Ryder just nodded.

He didn’t get to look around as they walked this time. He didn’t mind it, if there were more overgrown giants he didn’t want to meet them. He was starting to get tired. Everything had been hectic since he woke up this morning. All for some lousy food he didn’t even taste much of. He closed his eyes, letting the rhythmic steps relax him.

#oc:ryder #oc:rhys #oc:alessia #oc:dabria #oc:vitus #oc:felix #gt #giant/tiny #giant tiny #g/t #g/t writing #gt writing #gianttiny #gt community #g/t community

[faintblueivy]

So Imagine...

A world where Bruce Wayne died as a child in that alley that day, Martha and Thomas Wayne grieve as normal parents. They DO NOT BECOME BATMAN AND JOKER. 

Nothing ever remains the same after losing their little boy. So, Thomas buries himself in his work and Martha drowns herself in depression and pain. They do therapy and it works a little and life becomes bearable but...not happy.

One day, Alfred badgers the couple to go out and relax a little and buys them tickets for a circus - Haly’s circus. Everything was going nice and dandy and Martha was in awe of this little acrobat as much as the rest of the crowd when suddenly the rope snaps and the boy’s parents fall to their deaths - right in front of him and the gathering. Thomas is quick to jump in to see if he could help them in any way but Martha can see it in his eyes that they are as dead as they can be. 

They return to home with heavy hearts and Martha can’t get the image of the little boy out of her head. His skin was a light shade of bronze but his dark hair and bright cerulean blue eyes reminded her so much of Bruce that her heart wouldn’t rest. So a few days later she uses her connections to know if the child is safe and well cared for, when to her immense horror, she is replied that he was shipped to Gotham Juvie due to the lack of foster homes. She is enraged.

She calls Thomas and Alfred and lets them know about the little acrobat’s situation and declares that she was going to adopt him. They hesitate a little but she is not to be deterred as she goes ahead and brings the little boy home. 

Richard John Grayson - Wayne. Or Dick, as he likes to call himself. 

He is adamant that he wants no parents and Martha is fine because not only that she is old enough to be not his mother but also because no child can ever be her Bruce.

“You can just call me Grandma then.” She tells him.

His eyes are wide but he nods and then smiles and Martha, in a long while, has never felt this happy. 

Her new Grandson, despite losing his parents, is a ray of sunshine with unlimited supply of energy and the cold and empty manor is warm and happy again. 

Dick is a little charmer and even after Thomas and Alfred’s initial reluctance, they immediately fall in love with the boy and one day, when Martha comes down to the morning breakfast, she hears a happy, deep rumble - one she has not heard in many years. Thomas is laughing. 

There on the dining table, seated beside Dick, was Thomas laughing. Her eyes water at the scene and Alfred, who is standing beside her offers her a handkerchief. None of them mention how his own eyes are wet too.

 ...

Dick is sixteen, a brilliant boy in academics as much as they disinterest him but an invincible athlete. Martha has been told time and time again that her grandson is undoubtedly a international level gymnast. But he is a teenager.

And teenagers steal their grandparent’s ‘coolest’ car and rush off into the night. But they don’t come back with a little battered and bruised, homeless kid tucked under their arm.

“He had jacked three tires off your car. When I confronted him, he tried to hit me with a tire iron.” He says, amused, as Thomas tries to convince the child to show him his injuries.

“I didn’t do nothin’! He’s a fuckin’ big boob liar!” They boy screams, his blue green eyes glaring daggers at Dick.

“Language.” Both her and Alfred warn simultaneously.

After hours of struggle, interrogation and fuck you’s, Martha learns that the child’s name is Jason. He is twelve. Mother died form drug overdosing and Dad is a petty henchman of some crime lord. He ran away from multiple foster homes because they are so abusive that the child feels safer on streets. 

Martha goes on a rampage over Gotham’s foster care after that. She did not donate millions of dollars annually for children to feel safer on streets. After of lot of talks and reassurances and promises, Martha acquires her second grandchild.

Jason Peter Todd - Wayne. 

Jason is tiny. Malnourished like Leslie said. But he is sharp, observant and hungry for knowledge. Martha and Alfred joke that Jason is Thomas' soul child. Where Dick had loved activity and movement, Jason liked quiet and stability - Martha thinks that running and fighting for survival on streets every single day does that you. So evenings often found her and Dick in the garden but Thomas and Jason in the library pouring over as many books as they can.

And to nobody's surprise, despite their rocky start, the boys become inseparable. They are outwardly different, with clashing interests and behaviors but Martha can see that they both carry the same cores of light.  

When the morning of Dick’s Parent’s death anniversary comes around, both her and Thomas find Jason on Dick’s bed, arms curled protectively around his big brother. For the first time in so many years, Dick wakes up to warmth surrounding him, not nightmares. 

...

Both her grandsons attend Gotham Academy so when she receives a phone call from the Principal, she is half surprised and half not. When she enters the Principal’s office, both her boys are standing on one side, Jason with his head hung in shame and Dick glaring daggers at the other side. The boy who seems to be injured is being coddled by his mother who is shooting nasty glares at her grandchildren periodically. 

Then she notices another small boy standing beside her boys, trying to melt into the wall.

Tim Drake. The only son of Jack and Janet Drake of Drake Industries.    

She arches a questioning eyebrow at Dick who shakes his head and then she turns to the Principal. 

“What happened here?”

“Glad to see you’re here Mrs. Wayne.” The Principal says, pushing his glasses up his nose, “I regret to inform you that your ward Jason Peter Todd attacked this young man here.” He gestures to the other boy. 

“Madam, Gotham Academy is a prestigious school and we do not encourage physical violence here. Yes, it might have been acceptable from where he came from but it won’t be, here. I hope you give us the right to punish Mr. Todd here appropriately.” 

Martha inwardly bristles at the jab at her grandson and says crisply, “Mr. Wayne.”

“What?”

“He’s not just Todd. He is a Wayne. Please remember that.”

“Principal Sir.” Dick cuts in and Martha is confused because as hyperactive as Dick is, he is a mannerly child and knows better than to cut in a conversation like this but what draws her attention is the chilling tone which Dick almost never uses. Dick continues, “Why don’t you tell our grandmother more of your regrets? Or the prestigious Gotham Academy believes that bullying is acceptable.” 

Martha has been told what she needs to know. 

“Jason?” she calls out to her youngest grandson softly, “What happened?”

Jason is quiet when suddenly Tim Drake moves forward. She can see he is scared the way his hands shake but determination shines in his blue eyes. She likes him.

“I want to say something.”

He narrates the tale of how he was being bullied and how the boy on the other side with his mother threw his science project model away and broke it and physically tried to attack him when Jason stepped in to save him. Martha felt nothing but pride at Jason’s righteous indignation. 

Tim also explained that Jason exercised immense control even after these bullies called him ‘street rat’, but the verbal spar intensified after Dick was insulted for his Romani heritage, but it came to fist fight after Thomas and Martha were insulted, and Bruce’s death was made fun of.

Her gaze snaps to the other three occupants of the room and they are all in various shades of pale. Apparently, the Principal had not done his homework.

“Principal” She says icily, “Yes, I give you the authority to punish Jason appropriately but only when this young man here”, she gestures to the boy who was now cowering behind his mother, “Is dealt with in the same way.”

After threatening the Principal in soft words but harsh tone about not tolerating to having her grandsons bullied the next time, she grabs Jason’s hand to drag him away from these people who don’t deserve his company, when her eyes fall on the little trembling Tim. 

She offers him her hand.

He stares at it, shocked but after an encouraging smile from Dick and a small shove from Jason, he takes it shyly.

And since that day, Tim becomes a member of Martha’s family. The boys stay together so much that even Thomas forgets that Tim is not theirs. 

Tim’s upbringing sends Martha’s grandmother instincts on a haywire and she resents the Drakes for their criminal neglect towards Tim. 

It is rewarding that Tim flourishes in their attention. 

She learns that his hobby is Photography and he is excellent at it. And he is a genius when it comes to science, computers and gadgets. He likes crime thrillers movies and books and often picks them apart with his scarily good knowledge about forensics that leave the rest of the family in awe and slightly disturbed. 

The dam breaks when one day Jason and Dick return back from school telling her that Tim was absent today and they are worried about him. When they later sneak into the Drake mansion in the evening, Thomas receives a frantic call from their oldest grandchild that Tim was burning with fever. Because Thomas is a doctor, they save Tim before anything serious happens.

This time, it is Thomas who sues the Drakes for Tim’s custody after him and Jason had, had enough of ‘Timbo’s shitty parents’.

“Timothy?” Martha brushes his sweat soaked forehead gently. “Would you like to be a member of our family legally?"

Tim is hesitant about this but he admits that he likes Wayne manor much better than he ever liked Drake mansion. He confesses that he loves Jason and Dick as brothers and sees Martha, Thomas and Alfred as his grandparents as well.

The long custody battle ends with both Jack and Janet Drake dying at the hands of two different tragedies, leaving Tim an orphan, but also with a loving family consisting of three grandparents and two brothers by his side. 

Timothy Jackson Drake - Wayne is adopted into the Wayne family as her and Thomas’ third grandson.

...

A year after they adopt Tim, Thomas comes home with a small girl on his side. She is clearly an east Asian in heritage with dark hair and dark eyes and is speech deprived. Thomas is clearly distressed after Cassandra - her name is Cassandra - is safely secured in warm bed in a nice room across Jason’s. He calls her, the three boys and Alfred to his study to explain about the small girl. 

He talks about how Gordon brought the girl to him and after hours of wordless, signed and clumsily sketched on paper conversations with the little girl they were able to determine that Cassandra was hiding from her father who was an assassin and wanted to drag the little girl down the same path before she ran away. The more he talks about the damage and abuse the girl had experienced at the hands on her own father, the more furious Martha becomes. When Thomas’ explanations ends, Jason slams a punch into the wall making a dent but no one has the heart to reprimand him for that. 

The following morning, Martha can see that her three boys have unanimously decided that they are adopting Cassandra as their sister. She is treated like a Princess, and given the nick name ‘Cass’. 

Slowly but surely, Cass learns what it means to love through Dick’s bright kindness, Jason’s quiet protection and Tim’s infinite patience. After her father is finally apprehended, the family celebrates.

Cassandra Wayne, soon after, becomes the beloved Wayne Princess of Gotham. 

Martha and Thomas often accompany their only granddaughter to her speech therapy lessons, so after six months of her adoption, at dinner, she places a kiss on everyone’s forehead - her three brothers and three grandparents, stands at the head of the table and croaks out, slowly, “Thank...thank you.” All of them stare at her flabbergasted, but it appears that she was planning to shock them even more.

“You...Love. Love you...”

The silence that follows her broken but sure words is deafening. Surprisingly it is Tim who breaks it as he scrambles out of his chair and launches himself at Cass, wrapping his arms around her and both Jason and Dick follow him, grabbing both their youngest siblings fiercely.

A quiet sob breaks her out of the trance and she smiles when she watches Thomas furiously wiping his tears from the sleeve of his shirt. The last time he     had cried was at Bruce’s funeral. And Martha is infinitely grateful that this time these are happy tears. 

...

Sometimes Martha wonders what would have happened if Bruce had lived. If these children are her grandchildren then does that mean they are Bruce’s kids? Had Bruce lived, would he have accepted these gaggle of kids that her and Thomas have collected over the years as his own? Would he have kids of his own? 

Her questions are answered when one day she hears a slight commotion in the entrance is surprised to see a young woman with a sword threatening Alfred.

“I want to meet the Master of this house. Let them know immediately.” She demands in an authoritative but silky voice, and Martha suddenly sees the Toddler clutched in her arm. 

“What is it?” Martha speaks as soon as she can when the woman notices her. She looks surprised for a second but immediately schools her features as the baby fusses.

“You’re alive.” She whispers and before any of them could make an indignant comment about her wordings, she says, “It appears that I might have traveled in to the wrong universe.”

Now that is interesting. Martha lives in a world where they are protected by aliens...so, it is certainly worth hearing for. 

Martha offers the young lady an invitation for tea which she accepts. She notices how the woman carries herself with lethal grace and dignity as if she was a Princess but much more. As they sit and Alfred leaves to bring the promised team Martha notices how the woman’s eyes sweep over the place. 

“How may I help you?”

Her voice attracts the attention of the toddler and this time, he is not clutched tightly enough to his mother’s chest to turn his small head and look at her. Martha gasps. Because the child looks too much like Toddler Bruce. But instead of the blue eyes like her son, this child has glowing green ones, like his mother. But still, the resemblance is uncanny. 

“Yes, he is your son’s.” The woman answers the unasked question.

She is explained the existence of Multiverse, and it’s workings and how Bruce survived instead of them in that world, met Talia (the woman’s name is Talia Al Ghul) and had a child but had to leave. Talia mentions the reason she came here was because her son’s life was in danger and Talia’s father wanted to raise her son as an assassin Prince and a tool for him to use. Talia’s solution to protect her son was for her to give her son to the Bruce of this world to raise, since the Bruce of that world had gone missing.   

“I can raise him.” Martha suddenly declares and the woman looks at him shocked. “I will not raise him into a life of violence but I can certainly protect him and give him a happy civilian life.”

Talia looks unsure, hesitant, but says, “I...have been a warrior since the day I can remember. Never once have I ever thought of my son not being a warrior. He was...born to be one.” 

Martha smiles. “He doesn’t have to be one. Yes, his life will be infinitely different than the one you imagined but...he will be well loved and protected. I can assure you of that.”

“Damian.” Talia whispers as he deposits the baby in her arms after a lot of consideration. “His name is Damian.”

She looks at her son tenderly one last time and places a kiss on his forehead and Martha’s heart breaks a little for the young mother. 

“Will you return back for him?” Martha asks as she follows the Talia to the door.

“No.” Talia whispers, her voice strained. “I will not. Any action taken by me is monitored by my father closely. If I return back, then he might know that I have left Damian here and I cannot let that happen. He is yours, forever.”

Martha gives her a sad smile. “You’re a brave and good mother Talia. Thank you for doing what is best for your son.”

She nods, not turning to look at Damian one last time as she leaves the manor grounds, never to return. 

Martha looks at the baby secure in her arms and her lips quirk up into a grin at the sight of two curious green eyes watching her with interest. 

“Welcome to the family, little Damian.”

When she introduces the new addition to the family, Thomas is dumbfounded. Dick is ecstatic at the prospect of having a new baby brother, Jason is secretly pleased, Cass is happiest and Tim looks unsure.

That’s how Damian Wayne - Al Ghul joins the family.

Damian fits in their home spectacularly. After few days of hesitation, like he had with Dick, Thomas takes to Damian quickly. He has an epic competition going on with their eldest grandson to become the baby’s favorite. Damian refuses to sleep without Thomas but his tantrums are only controlled and won over by Dick. Damian loves Jason manhandling him and giggles happily when the older boy throws him in the air or swings him around. Damian loves Cassandra because she knows what he wants before any of them do. And Cass loves to carry her little brother around to watch birds and animals in the manor grounds.

The only person Damian seems to not get along with is Tim and the older boy seems not be fond of him either. Because Damian wants everything Tim does and the older brother has to compromise for Damian every time. But Martha has to bite laughs a lot now a days because almost everytime Damian falls asleep, it is with Tim in vicinity. And she has caught the older boy tenderly covering Damian in his favorite blanket more often than not. Martha thinks that this is kind of cute but keeps her opinion to herself. 

Her little grandson is quite protective of his siblings though. Anytime someone upsets any of his siblings, they are threatened with scowls, growls and even bites and stabbings in extreme cases.

Like last time when Mrs. Park made fun of Cassandra’s  speech impairment, Damian almost bit her finger off. Damian hates one of Dick’s racist colleague (they all do) so much that anytime the man enters his field of vision, the first thing Damian gets his hand on is thrown at the guy’s head. With deadly precision. And last time when Mr. Link had called Jason ‘street rat’ for personally volunteering charity work for poor and homeless, Damian had smeared his juice and drool covered hands on the Man’s thousand dollars suit. And when one time, a reporter had infiltrated a Gala and chased Tim around to ask uncomfortable questions about his parent’s death and the Wayne’s involvement in it, Damian, noticing Tim’s distress had stabbed the reporter with a fork with no hesitation. 

Martha is still not sure if she should encourage or reprimand Damian for that.

...

As she sits on the head of the table with Thomas on her side and Alfred on the other end, she wonders how miraculous it is for her to have all these children in her life. 

Dick is engaged in an animated conversation with Stephanie who was introduced to the family as Tim’s girlfriend. Barbara, the daughter of James Gordon and Dick’s girlfirend/or not was helping Cass pile up food on her plate. Damian and Tim were bickering over something as usual but Jason trying to hide his snickers in guise of drinking water which made Martha sure that the something was Jason’s doing.

These people were her family. The ones she had gained after losing Bruce. She wonders, if there was a universe where Bruce got to meet her grandchildren. 

Would he accept them? As family? 

Would he love them? As family? 

She brightly smiles when the multiple sets of eyes turn to her waiting for her to blow the candle.

“Happy Birthday Martha.”

Thomas says warmly, his voice thick with emotion and she meets his gaze and sees the love, affection and thankfulness in his eyes for this family that they had created after their earth shattering loss. She knows what she wants as she blows the candle on the cake flickering in front of her.

I wish for us to be family in every universe.

#batman #martha wayne #thomas wayne #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #Tim Drake #cassandra cain #Damian Wayne #wayne family #batfamily #batfam #stephanie brown #barbara gordon #nightwing #red hood #robin #batgirl #spoiler #black bat #orphan #this is fic? or not #batfam fanfiction #bat siblings #bat brothers #i like this idea #imagine if Bruce stumbles into this universe #dc #dc universe #found family

[decennia]

I don't know who needs to fucking hear this, but I'm about to say it with my full chest:

SEVERUS SNAPE DESERVES NO RIGHTS, I SAID WHAT I SAID.

Why? I'll tell you why:

Let's start with Neville Longbottom. Often the butt of the joke, Neville was often played up for comedic effect, so I can understand why we never took the implications of his boggart seriously.

But the fact of the matter is: Neville Longbottom was more terrified of his potion's teacher than he was of Bellatrix Lestrange, a woman who was a proud Death Eater who tortured his parents into insanity, a fate several people throughout the series state as "worse than death."

I've heard the argument from Snape Apologists that Boggarts are "superficial" creatures, so they don't go much deeper for a fear of yours, and, having gleaned a recent and prevalent one, will shift into that. Hence why it would be Snape, who recently tormented Neville, rather than Bellatrix, who Neville has never met.

It still stands, however, that Bellatrix is a known Death Eater, and Snape was just his potion's teacher.

We also see from Harry's own experience with the boggart, that the boggart hesitated before turning into the dementor. It "chose" which of Harry's fears to become, Voldemort, or fear itself?

Now, because I always listen to both sides of a story, try and see it from both perspectives before I draw a conclusion, I asked myself "why?"

There never is a good reason for abuse, but I still tried to look at it from Snape's eyes. And the conclusion drawn was literally the same as almost every single motivation for every one of Snape's decisions: because of Lily.

Neville was born several hours before Harry, and was a contender for being "the Chosen One" (the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies) but Voldemort chose Harry.

By Snape's logic, it meant that if Voldemort had chosen Neville, Lily would've still been alive for him to woefully pine for from a distance.

And so he takes it out on a fucking c h i l d.

He abuses him, torments him, and even forces Neville to poison his pet toad, Trevor, who has been shown to be of incredible significance to Neville.

And when the potion doesn't poison Trevor? And actually proved to be a competent potion? Snape made his displeasure known by deducting five points from Gryffindor.

I know that's not a Big Deal™ in the grand scheme of things, but we have to remember that Neville was a CHILD.

Moving on from Neville, let's get to: Lily.

Remember what I said before, about Lily being his end-all and be-all for everything? I meant it.

I'm not saying she was the sole reason Snape became a Death Eater, but she was the "last straw."

Snape's dislike for muggles stemmed not from Lily (of course not, he loved her), but from his father. Yes, I remembered his father, Tobias Snape. The muggle, the abuser. Apples and trees, I guess. From what I recall, Tobias was never physically abusive towards Eileen, Snape's mother, but he was emotionally and mentally abusive towards her. This would be cause for resentment for any young child growing up in that environment.

But, for a moment, may I direct your attention to Harry James Potter?

Who grew up that exact same way with the Dursleys?

Who was also neglected (Severus was said to have ill-fitting, mismatched clothes, sound familiar?) but who also did not have Eileen there to protect him?

And did Harry ever become a member of a muggle hate group? (No. The answer is no, in case you all didn't remember that Very Important Detail of the series).

So, yes, Snape was abused, and no, I am not condoning it, I do sympathize with him on that front: no child should ever go through that. Ever. No matter the fucking child, there is no good reason for it. But do I condone his actions later on in life? Absolutely not.

Because he called Lily a "filthy mudblood."

Not just "mudblood", but a filthy one, too. And why did he do that? Because she defended him against his bullies. Yes, Sirius and James were bullies, I guess everyone's faves are a little problematic in this bitch.

And not only did he call her that, but he also was besties with people who fancied themselves the next generation of Death Eaters.

And when Lily asked him if he STILL intended on becoming one, he never gave her an answer, prompting her to sectumsempra all ties with him. Meaning, she probably gave him multiple chances to not be a raging bigot, none of which he took. Love of his life my fucking toe, gtfo—

Also, Snape obviously knew what his "friends" were doing at the time. Particularly, and especially, Mulciber's attack on Mary Macdonald.

Now, we can't talk about Lily without talking about James and the Marauders.

I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN THAT THE MARAUDERS BULLIED SNAPE, OKAY? But listen up: still not a good enough reason to join the wizarding world's KKK. Actually there is no good reason, period, end of message, send tweet.

He loathed them so much, he literally gave zero fucks about their wellbeing.

Even though! Sirius' biggest crime against Severus is jokingly telling him to follow Remus Lupin under the Whomping Willow during that time of the month.

And Severus would swear that James' biggest crime against him (after "stealing" Lily, of course) would be stopping him from encountering the werewolf and saving his fucking life.

Where the fuck was that reciprocated energy when Snape KNEW that James was also marked for death?

Also, are you going to tell me, that with his ear so pressed to the ground about news on Lily, that he didn't know who the real rat was? That he didn't know that it was Peter Pettigrew? This is speculatory, but... Snape had to have known that Sirius was not the betrayer, he must've at least known it was Pettigrew, meaning he let an innocent man waste away in Azkaban and for what? Something that happened when they were kids? I wonder why Sirius is a "stray dog" idk probably because someone let him rot in Azkaban for thirteen years?

Don't even get me started on how he literally stepped over James' body to get to Lily's while Harry sat there crying. Please. Or the fact that he only wanted Lily spared? He literally said "yes, only her, please, Dark Lord, fuck that newborn"?

OKAY AND MY FINAL POINT BECAUSE THIS GOT TOO LONG AND HONESTLY I'M LITERALLY WAY TOO FUCKING ANGRY AT THIS POINT... I PRESENT TO THE COURT: THE CARROWS.

Severus had been made headmaster of Hogwarts, and what does he do? Allow the Carrows to torture muggleborns and first years. Eleven year olds. Disgusting. Please. What the fuck.

I don't think Severus Snape died a fucking hero, or in "penance." NOT when twelve hours prior, he'd been turning a blind eye and a deaf ear to eleven year olds screaming as the Cruciatus Curse was used on them.

Also, James never sexually harassed Lily? Wanna discuss sexual harassment? How does "waiting outside the Gryffindor common room until someone lets you in even though it has been made very clear that the person you want to speak to doesn't want to speak to you" sound?

I am not denying that Severus Snape is a tragic character; he's a very complex and somewhat interesting one, even. All I am saying is that I don't think saying "always" on the brink of death excuses any of your past actions. He's a martyr at best — having his sins "forgiven" by sacrificing himself for a just cause.

Yes, this is a hill I'm willing to die on. But, as always, I am open to a respectful conversation (not argument, conversation). If you disagree, I'd love to hear why. Try and change my mind; as long as you do so respectfully, I will hear you out.

#i don't know what to tag this as #anti severus snape #tw hp #tw abuse #tw bullying #this is not a kink shame this is a i just don't really see the appeal of this specific character but you do you b #he deserves no rights cause he should be in azkaban in case i wasn't clear in my thesis

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Kaz Brekker x Reader - Your What?! Part 1/2 (Soulmate au)

A/n: So I can't believe I'm doing this but... This a soulmate au! With Kaz fucking Brekker! I'm just going to cry in the corner now... I also decided to split this into two parts, so part 2 will be out tomorrow!

Warnings: language, mentions of trauma, mentions of the menagerie, mentions of death, I think that's it? You have been warned!

Summary: You and the crows are on a mission and your soulmate mark starts burning

All rights go to Leigh Bardugo, Netflix, and you! I just own the plot!

Soulmates are the bane of my existence.

You can say otherwise, tell me that I live in a wonderful world to have a chance to even meet my true love or whatever. Personally, I think it's bullshit.

Come on! Most people probably don't even meet their soulmate because the whole system is stupid! Maybe it was different billions of years ago when people couldn't have the same initials but now it's not about the initials.

It's about the pain.

Knowing the initials is just a slight sign to help you along your journey. The pain where those initials are is what it really is.

When your soulmate is hurt or in danger you mark will burn. Depending on the level of how much pain or danger they will be in it could feel like a mosquito bite... Or feel like your getting stabbed multiple times.

In my opinion well really... I don't give two fucks about it. It is what it is but the worst part about soulmate marks is when the person dies.

So when your soulmate is going to die, or is VERY close to death your soulmate mark fill start to flicker. Apparently it's worse then the normal pain you face with soulmates. When the person dies though...

In the case that your soulmate dies, the mark will slowly fade away causing you excruciating pain that could last YEARS. (Dramatic I know.)

That's what I used to think anyways.

When my sister finally escaped the menagerie I was ecstatic, but then she got dragged into the whole 'ice court heist,' so that was fun. In the time that everything happened I eventually got dragged down with her when Ketterdam was on lock down looking for criminals.

Then I found my soulmate.

Kaz fucking Brekker. Or Kaz Rietveld would be more correct, I guess.

After the whole heist was finally over we decided that fine, we could bond and we did. Being us, we didn't tell anyone not to stir up trouble, (we both had enemies) and because Inej Ghafa was my sister. Her and the others would be very protective of me.

Not like they can stop me though.

"Y/n." I snapped my head to look up to Kaz and he raise's an eyebrow at me.

"Don't kill Pekka." I roll my eyes at him. Since Kaz did tell me about his past I told him if he wouldn't kill Pekka I would.

Or at least his son.

I sigh. "Fine but don't expect me to give him a fucking birthday present."

"I never said you had too." Kaz says blankly and I almost grit my teeth together at the thought of Kaz having no emotions. Wow, people really don't know him. Though I guess that's the point.

The Crows and I start walking towards the warehouse-club and Kaz walks with me step by step. That must means he's worried because most times he doesn't even look at me when we're on a job to not show weakness.

Shit.

I brush my hand quickly up against Kaz's gloved ones and I give him a nod.

A promise.

A promise to make it out alive as long as he does. I step back and lower my pace so I'm not leading with Kaz anymore and I fall into pace with Inej and Nina.

My mind goes to when Kaz found out I was his soulmate. I had found out on when he went on a mission one time and I just... Didn't tell him.

*Flashback*

The walls of the Crow club all the sudden become suffocating as I stare intently at Kaz. I spin on my heels and dash out the doors tears filling my eyes. I don't even know where I'm running, I just needed to escape out of the Crow Club.

I need to escape the disappointment.

I slide down onto the wall of the alleyway feeling like a fool. How could I have ever thought someone like Kaz could love me. Regardless of the soulmate mark he didn't even know about.

I sense a someone is in front of me and I go to lift my head up and a man has me at gun point. I go to grab my knives. Shit. I curse every saint ever in existence. They aren't there. I don't even have a gun.

Bare fists I guess it is for me.

We turn in a circle and he clicks the safety off his gun and in a split second I duck when I hear a short, boom!

I growl in pain as a bullet goes through my shoulder and he goes to shoot again and...

BANG!

The man drops dead to the floor.

I turn around and behind me is Kaz holding a gun, but his face is in pain and worry is there as well, spread across his face more plainly then I had ever seen before.

"Your my soulmate." He mutters and I barely hear it. My chest heaves and I just nod my head not being able to speak.

He come's over and pause's right in front of me, just a foot away. Slowly, he takes off his gloves and he nervously takes my hand and laces our fingers together.

Then we start walking back to the Crow Club.

To a new future. Together.

*Flashback over*

"What do you even have against Pekka Rollins anyways, Y/n?" Inej questions me as we speed-walk to the warehouse where some Dime Lions are stirring up trouble.

My brain scrabbles to put something together but I have always been a efficient liar. No offense to my sister she's fantastic at what she does, but lying had never really been her thing.

"Rollins is a barrel boss." I shrug my shoulders seemingly uncaring even though there is so much more layers to it. But I guess I'm not lying.

Yet.

"So is Kaz." Nina points out but I already planed for that response.

"And we're dregs. Pekka is a big barrel boss, he scares off people from coming to the dregs. It's a problem and it's getting on our ass's." I grumble.

"I didn't know it mattered to you that much." Inej states. I wanted to scream in her face. He killed Kaz's brother! He almost killed Kaz! He creates monsters where ever he goes and tries to control them like caged lab rats! But I couldn't do that, so furiously I snap at her.

"Well it should to me, it's my job."

Nina and my sister both look at me weirdly, oh crap. They don't know I have basically the same authority as Kaz. Fuck.

*Flashback*

"Why give me a promotion? Isn't there other people who could use it? Who would do better than me?" I ask Kaz as he goes through the papers on his desk.

"I wouldn't trust anyone else to do it." He looks up to me and starts to get out of his desk. He goes to the door but before he can open it I grab his arm.

"I basically have the same power over the dregs that you do. I don't think that's a good thing."

Kaz just shrugs his shoulders and opens the door.

"What's a king without his queen Y/n?"

*Flashback over*

"Wait what?" Nina asks confused.

At least it goes off the topic of me hating Pekka Rollins with everything I have. Internally I sigh at my foolishness, I had only accepted Kaz's request recently, so no one really knew who was helping him out all the time.

*Flashback*

"Nemesis." The man whispers as I circle around him using the blinding light and the darkness to my advantage.

"Yes, and I get to decide if you live or die. Tell me, did you kill that little girl - Oh what was her name? Sarah was it?" I say loudly my voice confident and dangerous.

"No-no!" The sleaze ball yells and I throw one of my knives at his hand. The knife goes through his hand sticking it to the wall. The man screams out in pain.

"Liar." I hiss.

"Fine! Fine! I killed her!" He manages to scream out. "I killed her." He sobs as he says those three words again.

"Good." I say as I secretly pull a knife out behind my back into my right hand.

"I will grant you mercy." I whisper into his ear.

"Oh thank you!" The man sobs. "Thank you!"

I quickly slit his throat and he chokes on his blood for a few second and horror frames his face, before he falls to the ground.

Dead.

I hear a click of a cane and I whip my head around to face the one and only Dirtyhands.

"You know killing him was accepting my offer, right?"

"I know." I don't have to look at him to know a small smile that has become reversed for me, is sitting on his face.

Then I remember what he said to me when he first gave the offer. I turn to face him as I try to hide my smirk, and I look at him right in the eye.

"My Crow king."

And I turned and walk away.

*Flashback over*

"Well-" I start to say but I'm cut off from Jesper's very excited 'we're here!' Thank the saints though, because it gives me time to escape they're questions for now.

"You all know the plan."

Nina puts her hands on her hips. "Only the parts you deem important enough for us to know."

I nearly snort and a small smile grace's my lips. They really have no idea, well obviously some idea being that the ice court heist existed.

Kaz rolls his eyes and makes a go motion.

Inej goes to slip through the shadows but before she's totally gone I make eye contact with her before she leaves. It clearly says our conversation is not over and stay safe.

I suck in a breath, I always hate it when I have to say goodbye to anyone. Especially when that some person could die.

Running over to back of the warehouse, I pull my hood up trying to be the most concealed that I can be.

Wylan is going with Jesper to go make a distraction so they'll be going through the front doors. Nina will be going to go flirt to go get some extra info, perhaps steal some things on the way and wiggle her way into the top floor where the Dime Lions are. Matthias and Kaz will be going together with them posing as the warehouse-club guards. Inej will be going through the roof, while I'll be going through the back.

In the end everyone will get to the top floor so we can exterminate some Dime Lions, and get into the vault where a whole bunch of kruge is. Hopefully there will be enough so I can put my share's with Inej's so she can get that upgrade on her boat that she needs. It's not like I'm going to use the money to do anything useful, she deserved it and plus I intended to stay with this city.

I silently slide sneakily into the window, coming out of the other end with a knife in my hands. If I have learned one thing from living in Ketterdam, it's that you can never be too prepared.

I stay close to the wall as I see someone roll down the rope-ladder. I grin to myself,

Right on time Inej.

I climb up the ladder without fear of falling down even if the ladder was just made out of rope. I get to the top and Inej offers me a hand and I take it.

The top floor is basically empty except for some Dime Lions henchmen that are laying around, dead or knocked out.

Then, I guess there is also the vault full of kruge.

I look around the room everyone is here except for-

Kaz.

"Where's Kaz?"

Matthias looks a bit uncomfortable and guilty as he shifts nervously on his two feet.

"He said he had to take care of something and to just go."

I sigh, well I know he isn't in danger... Yet. My heart is screaming for me to go after him, but it wouldn't look good for Dirtyhands or Nemesis. Knowing Kaz he's probably fine, he would just want me to open this vault I guess.

The fact that my soulmate mark isn't burning is probably also a clear sign that he's fine.

Get yourself together Y/n.

"Can we open the vault without him?"

The others look mildly surprised at my response (excluding Nina, and my sister).

"You might be able to do it, your one of the best lock pickers there is. Only second to Brekker." Nina states.

I bit my lip and start to walk over to the vault. I let my hand fall over the lock. I let it feel the certain gears and the parts that make up the lock.

The shank of the lock would be easy enough to undo with some man strength to help pull that open. Though that would be the last step - I need to stop thinking too far ahead.

It's a very simple lock that any petty thief could probably do in 32 seconds flat. Besides the fact that it was absolutely ginormous to fit over a fucking vault.

"Inej I'm going to need some help!" I yell across the room to my sister who is in the shadows on a look out, to make sure no ones coming here.

She comes and strolls over to stand beside me. I put my hand up the lock, and I grab one bar and I move it to the side but I hold it there with my hands.

"Can you find the bar to the left and pull it up once?"

Inej does and I hear a huge click! ring through the room.

"We should wait for Kaz till we open it." Inej states and I nod my head in agreement.

"So while we wait." Nina start's talking... Oh no, that can't be good. "We should maybe share the fact that Y/n is Kaz's second hand!"

Angry courses of what! come throughout the room.

"The fuck does Kaz think with putting you in all that danger!" Jesper yells and I see Matthias nod along with him.

"I'm already in danger most of the times I'm Inej's sister!"

"You should have told us!" Nina shoots back.

"You guys are really talking about this while were on a heist!" I shoot back.

My soulmate mark starts to tingle a bit but I ignore it, being that this conversation will most likely take a lot of energy.

"It still puts you in unnecessary danger." Inej and Wylan point out.

Fury rakes through my body. Who are they to tell me that's it's 'dangerous'?! I live in fucking Ketterdam!

"I don't know if you haven't noticed, but I'm not a doll! I can take care of myself! And you can't say anything because 60% percent of you guys don't even fucki- Ahhh!" A string of curse leave my mouth as I collapse against the vault.

"Y/n!"

To be continued...

Words 2480

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace

#shadow and bone #six of crows #SoC #Soc #Inej ghafa #Kaz brekker #kaz brekker #ghafa reader #x reader #kaz brekker x reader #Nina zenik #wylan van eck #inej my beloved #soc #the crows #shadow and bone show #grishaverse #kaz #jesper fahey #the crow king #nina zenik #inej #mathias helvar #the crow club #a heist #crooked kingdom

[mrwinterr]

Kissletoe

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes AU x Female Reader

Summary: You’re not a fan of mistletoes. You think it’s an outdated Holiday tradition and an excuse for lovesick fools to steal a kiss. Unlucky for you, college parties are riddled with them this year and someone’s been trying to meet you under one all night.

Warnings: College shenanigans (no one cares in the real world). Smut 18+ (unprotected sex, vaginal penetration & fingering, oral [female receiving], handjob & attempted dirty talk/goofy sex?). Language. Mentions of drugs and alcohol. & bad Christmas pickup lines.

Title Inspiration: “Kissletoe” by 3OH!3

A/N: I’ve never been kissed under the mistletoe let alone attended a legit college party because I’ve been lame my whole life. 🔔 ‘Tis that season! 🎄 Happy Holidays, ya filthy, lovely readers! 🙋🏻‍♀️ Raise your hand if you’re on the naughty list this year! ❤️ Enjoy!

It’s the end of the college fall semester and for the majority of students, the only way to celebrate surviving finals week is to let loose and party, especially right before you’re all forced to go back home to visit family for the Holidays.

“Where do you think you’re going dressed like that?” You hear your friend and roommate Natasha ask.

You stop stuffing your belongings in a box and pause at her question to look down at your current attire - black leggings paired off with an oversized University college-style sweatshirt. You had your hair pulled up in a messy bun, your face clear of any make-up, and lastly your feet were clad in funky, fuzzy socks. This is what you normally wore inside the dorm around her, and you certainly didn’t need to dress to impress just to go home. What was she on about?

“Uh, home? Where else would I be going at the end of the semester?” You reply, an obvious answer.

“Don’t be a smartass,” she retorts, and is quick to follow up when she sees the knowing look on your face and mouth open to retaliate with an even sassy response, “and don’t even start!”

She knew you’d say something like you were exactly that, smart. You in fact had amazing grades and excelled in every course you’d enrolled in. You were confident that you’d aced your exams, so you’re not checking the portal every chance you could get to see if the professor had uploaded your grades yet.

“You’re not supposed to be leaving until Monday,” she reminded you.

“I know, but I mean, there’s no rule saying I had to stay here until then,” you clarify, continuing to pack up more of your things, “I’d rather much get a head start.”

“You’re that eager to get away from me, huh?” She says, feigning sadness.

“You’re the only thing I’m going to miss about college,” you assure her.

College was a different experience for everyone. It was an introduction to the real world. Some used it to start anew, to buckle down and make something of themselves, others used it as an extension to repeat four more years of high school.

You took your studies very seriously, especially if you wanted to maintain your scholarship. It was a known fact college wasn’t cheap and you were fortunate to be here on one. With all that aside, you still knew when to have some fun. After all, all work and no play, makes Jack a dull boy, right? You didn’t want to be that kind of person, you wanted to enjoy your college years, and luckily you had almost a polar opposite friend in Natasha to level you out.

“We just survived another week of finals,” she states, and grabbing your arms to stop you for just one second, “what better way to celebrate than partying?”  

She sees the conflicted look in your eyes, and can tell you’re weighing out the pros and cons. There were a lot of cons: you’d be surrounded by tons of people, most of which were going to be drunk as fuck or high out of their minds on whatever substance was passed around and the threat of getting taken advantage of by some stranger. The pros? You had some steam to let off and this was a chance to gather and see some of your other friends before the Holiday break. ‘Tis the season, right?

“I guess you’re right,” you start, beginning to compromise, “why not? It’ll be like a little send off,” you decide, throwing in a shrug, and that was it.

“We’re college kids, it’s our right,” Natasha shrugs, before digging into one of your boxes and pulling out one of your cute dresses. You could always count on her to help look good too.  

When you both take the short walk to the house, where tonight’s party would be taking place, you abruptly halt at the end of the front porch steps, breaking your locked arms with Natasha.

“Jesus, what’s wrong?” She curses lightly as she almost trips backwards.

“This house…” you start, taking a step back and look up to inspect it, squinting, as if that would do you any good in the dark.

“Yeah?” She asks, a little too impatient, obviously hiding something.

“It’s familiar,” you continue, still trying to find out why it was so. Usually, that wasn’t a good thing...

“Come on. What are you talking about? It’s just a house. Don’t think too much and have fun tonight!” She says, stomping back down the steps and grabbing your arm to drag you up towards the front door.

“I guess you’re right,” you say, giving up again. What were you so worried about?  

“Aren’t I always?” She comments, and is, again, quick to shut you down when she sees you open your mouth. She presses her finger to the doorbell just as your mouth closes, and you both await the host.

You look off to the side and stare at the Greek letters tacked onto the wall. You knew you weren’t going to let it go on trying to find out why this house looked so familiar. Then, just when you’ve figured it out, your eyes widen in realization, the grip around your arm intertwined with Natasha’s tightens, feeling your attempt to slip away. The door swings open and the voice that booms out of the person, verifies your answer.

“Well, well, well...the weather outside sure is frightful, but this,” Bucky Barnes starts out singing before looking only in your direction, “oh, seeing you, is so delightful,” ending in a somewhat serious note.

“God, I hate winter,” you comment off to the side. It earns you a jab from Natasha, silently asking you to play nice.

He greets Natasha and easily lets her slip past him into the house. You call out her name, appalled that she left you alone with Bucky. Wasn’t that some rule? Never leave your friends alone at a Frat party.

“You look beautiful,” Bucky says sincerely when it’s just the two of you, to which you don’t respond, but roll your eyes. You didn’t come here to get seduced or hit on, but nonetheless shiver, and logically you could blame it on the cold weather and not the way that comment from him made you feel, then attempt to get inside the warm house.

"Excuse me,” he says, holding out his arms on either side of the door frames, blocking your entrance both ways, “where is my Christmas kiss?“ he asks, leaning in close to you.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You ask incredulously and back away. You owed him no such thing, but when you see the sly smirk on his lips, and his head signal for you to look up, you discover a traditional mistletoe hanging right above your heads.

Bringing your head back to its regular position, you look him dead in the eyes, “I’m not going to kiss you under the mistletoe, Barnes,” you scoff at his attempt to smooch you.

“Why not?” He presses, shuffling his weight from one leg onto the other, and before you can even give him an answer, you both hear your name being shouted from behind him. Bucky whips his head back and you do your best to look over his shoulder.

It came from your friend Wanda, who was excitedly waving you over to her. You smile and wave back at her, internally grateful that luck was on your side at this moment. Bucky turns back around and stares at you, wondering how to pick back up on your conversation, but when he doesn’t come up with anything, he sighs defeatedly, drops his arms and finally lets you in.

You make your way over to Wanda engulfing her with a huge hug. Natasha was close by, sipping on her drink. You’ll grill her later for leaving you alone with Bucky. She knew not to do that, but she did it at every chance she got. Now, you knew why she brought you to this specific house party.

“You weren’t planning on leaving without a proper farewell, were you?” Wanda asked worriedly. You immediately pieced together that Natasha had ratted you out on your attempt to leave campus and head back home early.

“It’s not forever, Wan,” you assure her. It was literally only for a few weeks, but while everyone would probably only be a few hours away from each other or a few states apart different, Wanda would be flying back to her home country to spend the Holidays with her family. You’ll admit, you could’ve been a little more considerate and sensitive.

“I’ll still miss you,” she says, the admission melting your heart, not even thinking about how the separation would be on others.

“She’s right, it’s not forever,” Natasha interjects, not allowing for any sad vibes on your last few hours of the semester together, “let’s make some memories tonight,” she says before handing you a drink.

Bucky, as hard as he tried to cover it up, rejoins his group of friends, Steve and Sam, sulking. He’d gotten you alone again, but failed, and he vowed to never give up. He had a crush on you, simple as that, but you were playing hard to get, and all this time spent on playing cat and mouse when you could be doing other things.

“Man, just save yourself from any further embarrassment and give up,” Sam tells him while also handing him a drink of his own, which Bucky accepts and quickly takes a swig from.

“Never,” he said, determined and slightly winces at the burn in his throat, his body almost warming in an instant, “I’m gonna get my Holiday kiss.”

“Why do you even care? You’re usually not one behind this Holiday shit,” he asks, looking around the crowded room.

“I’m not, but it gives me a reason to get close to her,” Bucky admits pathetically, staring into the red solo cup before taking the last swig, crushing it in his hand and air balling it to the trash.

“Dude!” Steve chastises him about adding onto the mess they’d have to clean afterwards, to which Bucky shrugs at.

“You can’t expect her to just kiss anyone under the mistletoe,” Steve reminds him. He knew it wasn't an easy conquest for any guy to gain your affection.

“I’ve been a good boy this year, alright, I’m gonna get her to see what she’s been looking for has been in front of her this whole time,” Bucky says trying not to sound or look as predatory as he watched you disappear into the kitchen with your friends.

You suppose the saying rules were meant to be broken, were taken a bit too literal by your friends, even college party rules because you’re left alone again. Wanda had abandoned the trio for some alone time with her boyfriend, who everyone dubbed Vision or Vis for short due to how outrageously innovative he was. Natasha decided to partake in a classic game of beer pong, something you incredibly sucked at, so there was no way she was going to recruit you as her partner nor were you interested in standing there awkwardly watching the game go on.

Surprisingly, the only place that seemed to be of a quiet enough spot to think was the backyard patio. You could see there was a fire lit and some other students scattered or sprawled on the grass. Quickening your pace, you manage to claim a vacant lawn chair next to the fire and hope you’d stay warm and at peace.

There you start to think that being in attendance tonight would’ve made no difference. Natasha was just good at persuading you into things. Call it peer pressure or whatever, but you put your faith and trust in her to not believe she’d ever steer you in the wrong direction, so why were you so bothered being here?

“You know, refusing to kiss someone under the mistletoe is bad luck,” you hear the voice of the reason why.

“I don’t believe in that bullshit,” you respond, watching as he plops down on the empty seat next to you.

“Really? Then why haven’t you been out on a date in so long?” he asks tauntingly.

“How would you know?” You ask a bit offended.

Why was he so concerned about your love life? You were never close with Bucky growing up and if anyone was of an impression you were, it was only because of Steve, who welcomed everyone, and that included you when you moved into the neighborhood when you were a little girl.

All throughout elementary school, until things started developing, puberty probably, it further separated you from Bucky. Steve blossomed a little later in life, so it helped solidify a good friendship with him, the same couldn’t be said for Bucky. You didn’t hate him, just got annoyed by his harmless teasing.

“I’ll have you know I have other priorities,” your attempt at an excuse was subtle, but you didn’t owe him an explanation anyways.

“Sure,” he says in a tone that suggests he didn’t believe you.

You watch as he lights up a cigarette, takes a small drag, and the cloud of smoke puffing out from his lips. He notices your stare and digs into his coat pocket, fishing out the pack before offering you one. You accept and pluck one out of the carton, he follows up with sticking out his lighter and you lean in closer to him to place the end of your stick against the flame.

You weren’t going to deny the relieving effect the nicotine had running through your body. College was stressful and while you weren’t one to abuse substances, a hit every now and then helped calm your nerves.

“So why is it you won’t kiss anyone under the mistletoe?” He asks, leaning back on the plastic chair, his head turning to the side, full attention on you.

He was enchanted by the girl, who grew up into a beautiful young woman, sitting next to him, slowly killing herself with every inhale and exhale of the cigarette between her lips, but you weren’t just attractive to Bucky, you were every bit incredible to him. You were smart, helpful, loyal to your friends and he was just misguided sometimes in life that led you to astray from him.

“It’s just an excuse for guys to steal a kiss from some poor girl...for lonely people to fake love,” you said almost bitterly.

Truth was, you had a bitter experience with a guy who’d led you on in high school after accidentally hearing that he could bet his friends he could get you to make out with him and he’d do so by using a mistletoe as a ruse.

Bucky detected some distaste in your response but decides not to interrogate you on it any further. There’d been a lot of growing up between the two of you since you’d both been estranged during your teenage years, and certain life events were missed on either party. So, where did you both stand in each other's lives now? You weren’t sure if you could call each other friends. It wasn’t easy to avoid Bucky, what with all the mutual friends and classes you shared, including the same street back home.

“I didn’t throw this party just to see everyone before they leave or to celebrate the end of finals,” he reveals, after several, somber minutes of silence, the cigarettes in your hands quickly burning out.

“Then why did you?” You ask curiously, meeting his gaze.

“To see you,” he simply admits. It was vague.

“How’d you even know I’d show up?” You quiz him.

“Because I begged Natasha to convince you,” he freely says, exposing his plan.

You were a smart person, but you couldn’t figure Bucky out. Why would he do that? Or for that matter, say something like that. What was his endgame here?

“Tis the fuckin’ season,” you comment offhand, getting up from the seat to leave. You stomp out your cigarette and prepare to head back inside and bid your farewells.

You’re just about to step through the threshold, when you feel a large hand wrap around your arm, halting you in place in the middle of the sliding screen door.

“Am I really that bad?” He inquires, and you know he’s not asking about just kissing him under the mistletoe anymore. Bucky always wore his heart on his sleeve, no matter how tough he appeared to be. It fooled a lot of people, sometimes you included, but in this moment, he seemed to genuinely be concerned about your perspective about him.

You were too grown to blame how the course of your relationship with Bucky had gone south on silly teenage phases. You knew it was much deeper than that, it was how sad it made you feel.

You’d harbored a small crush on him back then and it was cruel to see him grow into a handsome, charming guy and go out with other girls. He never showed an interest in you in the past and it was getting exhausting trying to get his attention, it was proving to be a distraction in your life, so it was then you’d vowed to focus on yourself and the life ahead of you, a life that didn’t revolve or involve Bucky.

However, a part of you, the risky and impulsive part of you, said you had less than a handful of months left before you were set to walk the stage and graduate. If you did what you were about to do, you could avoid Bucky for just one more semester, then you’d move far, far away and most likely never see him again. With a quick glance up, you give in to the idea of this side of you, lean in and plant your lips on Bucky’s soft ones.

Bucky is left dumbfounded, eyes still half closed when you pull away. He was shocked, caught off guard, and you by a totally different notion. You like him, you’ve always liked him.

It was a decent kiss if anyone would’ve caught it, at least you hoped it appeared it was, and that Bucky could convince you of it being so…

“You said kissing under the mistletoe is for lonely people to fake love...so then why do I feel so alive?” he asks you in a daze.

He doesn't succeed in convincing you.

How you’d both managed to move past that scene at the doorway without raising suspicion was beyond you two. The fact you both found a vacant room was an even more impressive feat at the moment.

“You better have locked that door,” you say, attempting to make it sound like a threat, but with you underneath him, you were anything but.

Shoes scattered along the pathway to the bed, his thick jacket following in suit. You’d managed to pull your lips back from his, but he couldn’t keep his off of yours as they trailed from the corner of your lips, along your jawline and down your neck. You feel his tongue drag just along your pulse, causing your hips to thrust up. You let out a moan at what you felt through his jeans and how he started sucking and nibbling over the spot he’d licked.

“Why? Don’t want everyone finding out how naughty you actually are?” He questions back teasingly with a cocky grin, and as he tugs at the sleeves of his unbuttoned shirt.

You don’t have a comeback for him, but instead you lightly shove him back and try to escape from underneath, hoping to get through to him and show you’re in fact serious. The last thing you wanted was for any of your friends to walk in on you two in the act.

“Relax!” He says, also sitting up and reaching out and pulling you back to him, “I locked it,” he assures, leaning in closer, “not even Santa will know what we’re doing,” then his lips reclaim yours, his tongue delving in your mouth. You’re once more on your back, lips locked and heavy. Had you known kissing Bucky was this good, you’d have kissed him earlier.

Bucky’s hands run up your thighs, snake their way underneath, you feel his fingers ghost over your scantily clad pussy. The tingling sensation causes the feeling in the pit of your stomach to brew.

“You want me to touch you?” He asks huskily while still pecking your lips.

“Yes,” you almost immediately answer, desperate for his touch.

“How bad?” Oh, he knows how bad, but he had so much fun watching you crumble.

“Bucky,” you start to whine.

“Tell me...how bad do you want me to touch you,” he repeats slowly.

“Fuck you,” you bite back. He was really going to make you say it, “I want you to touch me so bad...please, Bucky,” you quickly give in.

Bucky rewards you with a deep kiss as you feel him hook a finger on the thin slit of your panties and pull them to the side. He runs a long finger between your folds, and he pulls his lips away to inhale sharply.

“You’re so wet,” he states the obvious, bringing that same hand up to his lips to lick the pad of his thumb so he could start rubbing circles on your clit. You bite your lip and stare at him, he’s watching you carefully, loving how hard you’re trying to hold back.

“You want to be a good girl?” He asks, and you nod, “then don’t hold back. Stop fighting me, and I’ll make you come hard with just my fingers,” he bargains. You want to call him on his bluff, but he’s the one with the upper hand - literally. “But first…,” he starts, sitting up on his knees, hands back at his sides so he could scoot down lower on the bed, “...I want to taste this pussy,” his voice deep, and almost dangerous.

He pushes the end of your dress up, bunching it at the waist, to reveal your cute underwear. He pauses for a split second, “Holiyay indeed” he says to himself, reading the embezzled design on the front of your thong. You don’t even roll your eyes in annoyance anymore, because maybe if you kept quiet and submissive enough, you’ll finally get to come.

When he rids you of the garment, Bucky uses his fingers to spread your wet lips before running his tongue flat against it, only narrowing out when it reaches your clit. He spends a little more time at your there, circling it with his tongue, lightly kissing and sucking at it. His fingers start rubbing you, tracing the rim of the opening, while his mouth was still busy at work.

You're all but writhing from the buildup, your chest heaving up and down, stomach clenching tight from his doing, not prepared for when he inserts a finger inside your wet hole. You audibly gasped and reached a hand towards him, but he swats it away. You dare pick your head up to watch, and you’re met with his eyes, full of lust, looking up at you, but his mouth still latched onto your pussy. You can feel his finger slide in and out of you slowly, your mouth open displaying how good he’s making you feel.

In fact, it’s too good you’re not in control of your legs anymore as they kick and squirm at the feeling he’s bestowing on you, so he removes his finger away from you only to maneuver into a position where he could hook his arms under legs and basically slam your back down on the bed. You unconsciously start chanting his name, like a silent prayer for him to touch you down there again.

Your head is a little fuzzy, body on fire; you want to burst. Unable to pick up your head, you cast your eyes down on him just in time to see him spit on your already soaking cunt. You watch as he uses his fingers to spread the wetness all over before slipping two fingers inside of you.

The intrusion causes you to groan and back to arch, and you can’t help but grab at any part of the arm that his hand going to work on you, just making sure it doesn't go away until it gets the job done. He chuckles lightly at your eagerness with your hips bucking up at his palm.

“I promised I’d let you come, right?” He points out, which you nod fervently, loosen your grip and attempt to keep your hips at bay, so he could fulfill his promise. You feel his finger push in about knuckle-deep and curl inside, causing you to choke out a dry sob. You begin to bite your lip, hard, when he does it again and again.  

Your hands are on autopilot, trying to heighten the pleasure your body was being coursed with, and they grab handfuls of your breasts, still confined in your dress. You squeeze and squish them together, anything to help you find that release sooner. Bucky’s gaze catches onto your moves and licks at his lips, the sight of your breasts threatening to spill out offers him a taste of what’s still yet to be unwrapped.

He speeds up his efforts, they’re proven efficient as you start clenching tight around his fingers, your arousal also coating the palm of his hand. He whispers tiny praises as you try to recover from the first orgasm. You swallow the lump in your throat and run your hands over your face, almost dazed and bewildered that Bucky was capable of pulling something like that out of you.  

Your legs fall limp on the bed, the silence broken by Bucky, “such a sweet pussy,” he compliments, and you take a peek between your fingers to see his fingers pop out of his mouth from sucking his digits clean.

“Do you want to unwrap your gift?” He asks, crawling over to you. You manage to sit up, your body supported by your propped elbows, so Bucky is slightly hovering over you. You nod at his question and he brings one hand behind your head to swoop you in for a sweet kiss. You use both hands to hold his face in place to make the kiss last just a little longer.

Bucky reluctantly pulls away though so he could grab at the bunched fabric of your dress and pull it over your head, leaving you completely bare in front of him. He swears, eyes running over every part of you before sitting upright on his knees again.

You lean in and reach with both hands to unbuckle his belt, the clinking of metal sounding loud, button popping off in haste, and dragging the zipper down. You yank down at his fitted jeans to reveal the imprint of his hard cock under his boxer briefs. Fuck, he was big, that much you could see. You couldn’t keep your grabby hands away as you palm him through the fabric, his cock twitching at the indirect contact.

“Take it out,” he instructs, and you look up perilously at him, eyes begging him to confirm, “...it’s yours, baby girl,” and it was all the assurance you needed to peel his boxers down.

You wrap your hands around his length and start pumping him languidly. He was already hard and no doubt fully erect, but you immediately found how good it felt in your hands. With every pump, his pre-cum pools at the head, and with each trip your hands make up to the tip, they travel back down with the substance, effectively lathering him up and making him slick enough for an easy entry.

“I want to fuck you so bad,” he admits when you give his member an experimental squeeze, your fingers curl around him, the tips grazing along his balls.

Leaning in to place light kisses to his pecs, you look up at him, “well, you’ve been a good boy, so do it,” you say, hands retreating as you lie back down, “...fuck me, Bucky.”

Bucky lets out a low growl, kicks his bottoms away, and climbs back on top of you. He reaches down to grab his cock and starts running it up and down the length of your sex, causing your body to shudder. You could feel the ridges and just how hard he got before he slowly slid his cock inside. There’s a tiny sting on his entrance as his thick cock stretches your walls.

“Mmm, baby, it’s cold outside,” he starts playfully singing, “...but you, you’re so warm,” kissing your cheek, getting you to relax; not realizing you had held your breath trying to bear through the initial pain, “...and so wet,” he says pulling out with a lewd noise, before thrusting all the way back in, bottoming out.  

He starts off sweet and slow, and while you liked that on some occasion, now wasn’t one of them. Bucky’s cock probed at your spot almost instantly and you found out you didn’t want to prolong the euphoric ending. His hands slip around your smaller frame, pulling your body up, closer to his, while his hips moved in waves crashing harder and harder into yours.

His face buried into the mattress next to your face, you hear his breathy moans, and you love that he doesn’t hold them back the slightest. Who didn’t like to hear how good the other person was making them feel, right? You grip and pull at his hair, while the other gabs at his buttocks, feeling it flex with each snap of his hips, and your legs tangled with his. Sweat that had built up on your bodies make the movements sloppy, muscles beginning to ache, both of you were about to peak.

“God, you feel so good,” he says, picking his head up, his hair matted and messy, he still looked sexy, “...you gonna come all over my cock now?” His words fuel you and your hips start driving into his, making him eat his own words, “fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me cum!”

“Yes, Bucky,” you coo, your hands gripping his sides, loving the feeling of his hard body, slick and warm to the touch, “...come,” you try coaxing him, but one particular thrust rips right through you and your walls start clenching him tighter than the fit.

You only finish the command when you’re riding the waves of the aftershock, “come on, Bucky, I want it...inside, please.” You definitely picked up on the fact that he liked to hear you beg and be specific with your wants.

Bucky soon stills, spurts of his hot cum splatter your walls that continue to flutter around his cock. His climax spreads warmth all over your lower body. Your limbs, both arms and legs, wrap around his exhausted body. He carefully drops his bodyweight on you, mindful of not suffocating you in the process.

When he’s regained regular breathing, using one of his hands, he reaches behind him in search of yours before interlocking your fingers and just holding it, you hold onto each other. Bucky picks up his head and stares at your hand in his, you follow his gaze and join him. They fit with one another perfectly, and even so, the light squeeze he gives it, lets you know it also felt right.

“Well, where have you two been?” Sam says loudly, announcing you and Bucky’s arrival, rejoining your group of friends. Wanda and Vision close to each other, his arm around her frame, Natasha standing in between Sam and Steve, a refilled cup in each of their hands.

“I have been trying to escape this crazed man all night,” you playfully exaggerate.

“And yet you’ve managed to keep failing,” Bucky chimes in smugly, a cute smirk running across his features. This unearthed feeling testing your willpower to keep up with appearance and show resistance.

“Yeah, no thanks to my so-called friends,” pinning the blame on the two females in the room. Wanda turns red, guilty and slightly awful for abandoning you, but Natasha has a different reaction. She’s got that knowing smile on her face. It’s small, but very strong.

You watch as her eyes divert to the ceiling, you follow her gaze and then when you both look back at each other, the smile on her face turns into a full-blown smirk. There’s a collective sound of “oh’s” from everyone, noting the mistletoe above you and Bucky.

Turning to Bucky, who looks like he doesn’t know what to do, just stands there staring at you, not knowing what to expect. You’re supposed to act like nothing happened or reveal anything to your friends just yet, so he mentally prepares for a rebuttal to your impending rejection or insult to kiss him. Nothing could’ve prepared him for what you do instead.

You place a hand on the back of his neck and pull him down to you and smash your lips together. Bucky’s hands immediately grab a hold of your hips, he’d have to get used to the lightheaded feeling when he’s close to you.

The kiss is slow and probably not appropriate to be deemed as a simple traditional mistletoe kiss, but you both can’t help it and continue to allow your lips to slide against one another’s before there’s a rise of cheers, whistling and howls around you, shattering the bubble.

When you pull apart, you reluctantly walk away from Bucky and head to where Natasha stood, steal the cup from her hand and finish off the remainder of her drink, all while staring straight at her. She knew. Only when you’re done with the last sip, you give her the same small, sly smile. There are no words exchanged, and none needed.

“Guess, you have been a good boy this year, Barnes,” Sam jokes, but regardless is proud of his friend.

“Third time's the charm,” Bucky says casually, shrugging like it was no big deal, as if he hadn’t been desperately chasing you all night. You shake your head at his silliness, but nonetheless smile at him, your heart skipping a bit.

Who knew what you’d been looking for was hanging underneath the doorway staring at you face-to-face this whole time?

A/N: I can confidently say, I used one of these Christmas puns as a pickup line on a guy recently and it worked in my favor! Shoot your shot but stay safe in more than one way; these are them trying times. Also, the underwear thing is a real design I saw while looking through Victoria’s Secret sales…lol. 

🎁 Gift me a like, reblog, comment - anything, please! 🥺💖

#mrwinterr writes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fanfic #college!bucky barnes #college!bucky #college!au

[lancelotdeservedbetter]

FRIENDSHIP FRIENDSHIP WILLANDGWENSHIP

you know what we were properly robbed of? will and gwen immediate friendship

so i like to think that merlin was writing will letters from camelot just like "went into the citadel today and started a fight with some asshole. got you some socks lots of love" followed the next day by "i am now in the employ of aforementioned asshole. please burn my last letter so i don't get executed." then the day after that will gets another letter saying "i hope you didn't burn that letter yet because having spent another day with him, ive decided the execution would be worth it if i got to call him an asshole to his face again"

anyway

obviously he writes about all the new friends he's made and tells will all about gwen and will writes back saying "are you sure you should really be making friends with smart people, you're not exactly subtle with your capital offences" and gets a response a week later saying "fuck you. she makes me flower crowns" and so will is like yeah i get it now and gets a secondhand account of all merlin's interactions

THen in 1x10 he finally meets them

and it's chaos

merlin: Will!

will: Merlin!

merlin: WILL!

will: MERLIN!

merlin: WILL!

will, narrowing his eyes and hissing slightly: arthur

and merlin knows will and knows arthur and knows the next ten seconds are likely to end in bloodshed and tries to quietly manage it and will is just about to open his mouth to end arthur's life when he notices this woman rolling her eyes at in the background and he just lights up and shoves arthur out of the way

merlin: this is the prince-

will: not interested. IS THIS THE GWEN FROM THE LETTERS? ARE YOU GWEN?

Gwen: um. yes. i think.

and, partially to piss arthur off but mostly it's because it's what she deserves, Will bows so low his joints creak

merlin: oh are we bowing to gwen? sick

gwen: what is this. what is this happening here. it's nice to meet you but what the fuck

will: thank you for keeping my merlin alive. it is no easy task and you have completed it nobly. that said, there are still plenty of hours left in the day for him to go all merlin and get stuck in another tree

and gwen immediately takes to him and they spend that whole episode with gwen rolling her eyes after arthur talks and muttering and will thinking she's a genius and proudly repeating her comments at the top of his lungs

arthur: and the men will fight because of our superior intellect and physical prowess

gwen, quietly at the back of the room: is that the same superior intellect and physical prowess that stops you from dressing yourself

will, gleefully: IS THAT THE SAME- (gwen tackles him)

and gwen performs her second successful rugby tackle of the day when she takes out the guy that aimed the arrow at arthur, meaning will just sort of trips into him while gwen whacks the man she just flung herself at

so will lives and he starts writing to gwen so much that merlin sends him a live rat with a little tag around his body that says in perfect cursive

"you think you can forget me, bitch?"

so to compromise, merlin and gwen start going on weekend trips to ealdor to visit will and the rat (will named him arthur because he thought it was fitting)

and they're just friends through the whole series and

-he visits camelot in series 2 to steal things and laugh at uther's long and complicated troll divorce and be the troll's lawyer (i've decided that's what happened) and desperately tries to wingman gwen with morgana

-when gwen gets banished and goes to ealdor will is ready to start an all out war with camelot and she has to talk him down from

will: im going to fry him. im going to destroy his world. im going to burn his house down

gwen: i appreciate the sentiment but i don't think that's necessary. or possible

will: it's definitely possible if i have a dragon

gwen: where would you get a dragon

will: i know a guy

-will is definitely at gwen's coronation. it's technically gwen and arthur's wedding but will refuses to call it anything but gwen's coronation

-after elyan dies, gwen goes to ealdor for a week so she doesn't have to face her real life and just spends the week chasing cows with will

will is there at camlann but refuses to declare which side he's on

arthur: william, it's good of you to come

will: not for you mate

arthur: what?

will: nothing

gwen: he's joking, you're joking, right?

will: can i get back to you on that

gwen: come on man are you serious

will: morgana makes some points about the magic stuff. and i still kind of like you two together

arthur: i'm right here

will: i know

and will permanently moved to camelot after camlann and serves as special advisor to the queen. he was never actually appointed, her just started turning up to council meetings wearing a shirt that said gwen hype team

#will would appreciate the shit out of gwen and vice versa #and you cannot convince me otherwise #sorry if this is incoherent i am unable to process words and thoughts #merlin #bbc merlin #gwen #guinevere pendragon #will (merlin)

[justanotherteentitansblog]

Bbrae Week Day 3 Into the Woods

There are giants in the sky! There are big tall terrible giants in the sky! 

The changeling had his nose buried in the score as he attempted to read the music in front of him. ‘Funny’ Raven thought, ‘I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen him reading something other than a comic book’ 

When you’re way up high and you look below at the world you’ve left and the things you’ve known, little more than a glance is enough to show you just how small you are! 

Raven hated admitting it to herself but dear god she loved his singing voice. He had this sexy tenor that was like honey to the ears. She could listen to him sing for hours and never get bored. Her favorite music was anything he sang, but she’d rather die than ever let him in on that. 

When you’re way up and you’re on your own 

In a world like none that you’ve ever known

Where the sky is lead and the earth is stone 

You’re free to do whatever pleases you

Exploring things you’ve never dared 

Cause you don’t care when suddenly there’s a big tall terrible giant at the door. 

Stupid Robin and this stupid theater that’s closing down. If Robin hadn’t made such a huge deal out of trying to save the theater Raven would never be in this mess. 

A big tall terrible lady giant sweeping the floor 

Raven was just glad she could keep her cloak on for the role at least for most of the first act, she didn’t know if she was ready to face an audience without it. 

And she gives you food and she gives you rest and she draws you close to her giant breast and you know things now that you never knew before 

A Teen Titans production of the show, into the woods. Super. Raven didn’t even know she could sing up until auditions. She had never really tried before and once she did, she kind of blew everyone away, herself included. 

Not til the sky

“Ok good work, you’ve obviously been practicing but next time hold out sky for a little longer, you’re cutting it short and you should be taking a big enough breath after before to be able to sustain that.” The music director, Dan, reminded Garfield. 

“Thanks dude! I’ll work on it!” 

“I know you will, that’s why I don’t hate you,” Dan nodded. 

Raven liked Dan, he didn’t pussyfoot around. 

Dan turned on the piano bench to face Raven motioning her to come forward with his fingers. 

Nevermind, she actually hated Dan. 

She sighed and slumped her shoulders trudging to the piano like a child being sent to timeout. She threw her hood over her face to hide the blush coloring her cheeks before Dan interrupted. 

“Your character doesn’t have their hood on at this part of the show!” 

‘Fuck you Dan’ Raven thought pulling her hood down. 

“Ok top of measure 55, here is your starting note and…..go” 

Careful the things you say

Children will listen 

Careful the things you do children will see

Gar regarded Raven’s tense form. She was nervous, and she didn’t want to make a fool out of herself in front of an audience. 

And Learn

Too bad she had probably the biggest role in the whole damn show, The witch. 

Children may not obey

But children will listen

The role really was very fitting for her. Maybe not the rap about produce but everything else about the role was very...Raven. 

Children will look to you for which way to turn

To learn what to be

If only someone could just show her how to relax into a character and just be natural in it, then it wouldn’t be so painful for her. 

Careful before you say, Listen to me

Wait! He was someone! He could definitely show her how to get into character, and you know a little extra alone time with her wouldn’t be such a terrible thing now would it? 

Children will listen….

Dan turned to Raven, “How do you think that went?” 

“Well I was pitchy on measure 75 and I think I got off tempo towards the end, also my voice cracked at measu-” 

Dan raised his hand to silence the girl, “No, you’re singing was perfect, the real issue is that you need to relax. You know what you’re doing so just let yourself do it without judgement.” 

Raven glowered at the music director, “Easier said than done, Dan.” 

After rehearsal, Raven gathered her things in her bag and was headed towards the stage door when a familiar voice called out. 

“Hey, wait, Raven!” 

“What do you want, Gar?” 

“I think I know how to help you with your stage fright, that is if you want my help.” 

Raven breathed a sigh of relief, “You don’t know how much I would love that, thank you” 

Gar chuckled, “Well you’re gonna love the means of how we’re gonna do it even more.” 

Raven was amused, “Oh?” 

“Yep, I’m gonna show you how to meditate like an actor.” 

Later in Raven’s room she had sat on her floor cross legged waiting for instructions from her teammate. 

“Ok start with deep breaths in and out. In….Out….In” 

Raven smiled despite herself, for him to give her instruction on deep breathing when she meditated everyday, it was almost laughable, but she complied. 

He guided her through a simple grounding exercise and once she was fully grounded he began speaking again, “Now I want you to imagine you’re in a cottage in a forest…” 

Ah, so this was a guided meditation, this she could handle easily. 

“Now this is your cottage and your home, understand? Around your cottage is a huge garden, full of beautiful greenery. Can you see it?” 

“Yes” 

“Spend a few moments admiring your garden, truly soak it in.” 

She did as instructed. 

“Now I want you to imagine you hear a sound somewhere in the garden, I want you to move towards the sound.” 

Raven found herself wandering a maze of vegetation in her mind’s eye until she found the source of the sound. A man in her garden. Not just any man but her neighbor stealing her vegetables! She tended that garden with every fiber of her being and the fact that someone she said hello to every morning was stealing from her, it felt violating. She was furious, she could’ve laid a spell on him right there! She could’ve turned him into stone, or a dog, or a chair…

Raven popped an eye open realizing what was happening, “Is this guided meditation based on the witch’s story in the show?” 

“Yes, now get back into it!” 

Raven shut her eyes and let her mind sink back into the story. 

Her neighbor was begging for forgiveness but she knew it would happen again if she didn’t do something to keep him away. She had been lonely and barren all her life and having always wanted a child of her own, she was envious of the baker’s pregnant wife. She offered the baker a second chance at life for the baby growing in his wife’s womb. The baker reluctantly agreed before climbing over the garden wall, but as soon as he had left the sanctity of her walls...BANG FLASH, LIGHTNING CRASH! She watched as her hands shrunk and withered into the hands of an old crone. Raven ran to a small stream that ran through her garden to look at her reflection and much to her horror and dismay a 90 year old woman’s face stared back. 

Raven sat up and screamed out of the meditation jolting Beast Boy backwards. 

“Raven, are you ok?”

“Meditation is supposed to relax you Gar, not send you horrific images.” 

“Yeah sure but...how do you feel about the baker now?” 

Raven’s eyes glowed red at the mention of the name. “Oh I don’t care what it takes, I’m getting my face back and somehow making him pay for it in the process!” 

Raven paused, confused at her own words, “What was that?” 

“That was you finally being in character.” Gar smiled up at his friend. 

“Ok but you said that you were going to help me with stage fright, not character development.” 

“I did, Rae. Now when you go on stage, you’re not going to be thinking about the audience, you’re going to be thinking about what a rat bastard that baker is and how you’re going to make him pay. You’re going to think about how everyone sees you as the bad guy because you’re the witch when really you’re the victim in the show. You’re going to think about how much you love Rapunzel and you’re not ready for her to grow up yet. All the characters on stage, they’re not in front of an audience they’re just living their lives, it’s our jobs as the actors to give a venue to tell their stories.” 

Raven was floored, since when did he get so...wise? 

“That was a very impressive speech, Garfield.” 

“Yeah well, you know, can’t be stupid all the time,” he shrugged. 

“A slotted spoon can catch the potato..” 

“See? Now you’re in the spirit of the show.” 

Color flooded Raven’s face as she stood to meet her friend at the door. 

“Thank you Gar, I don’t know what I would’ve done without your help.” she leaned up and planted a kiss on his cheek. 

Gar’s emerald skin met red as he flushed at the contact, “Uh, wait. What? Did you just?” 

“Best to take the moment present, as a present for the moment” she said, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him in for another kiss. 

#bbraeweek21 #bbrae fanfiction #into the woods

[rason-rodd]

All The Time We Need - Jason Todd x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Summary: Reader and Jason meet again after two years being apart and reconnect with their long lost love.

Warning : Angst, Fluff, Smut  

Author’s note: A OS definitely inspired by my 2-years long hiatus and that somewhat acknowledges it. It was almost cathartic writing it and allowed me to reconnect with Jason on a writing scale. You can read it as a sequel to “Summer Love and Swimming Pool” or not. Some moments are a bit too cheesy to my taste but I hope you’ll enjoy it nevertheless. NSFW Part is at the end. You can skip that part if you want to.

You actually realise Time flies when you take time to acknowledge it. And sometimes acknowledging is like getting buried under a mountain of sand and feeling each grain slowly chocking you and reminding you there is no escaping. The sands of Time cannot be stopped, nor can they be shoveled. They run and slip through your fingers like dust in the wind and the tighter you try to grasp them the faster they go. And when they’re gone, there is no catching them back.     That’s why Time is scary. Because no matter what you do, it won’t allow you to go back or to put an end to it. And it will certainly not allow you to forget about it either. Time will pave your life until the day you die with a constant reminder that, unlike it, you’re not eternal. And the saddest thing is it doesn’t care about what you think of it.           And yet, it seemed like Jason Todd had managed to tell Time to go fuck itself. “How long has it been?”

He hadn’t changed a bit. Looking as handsome as ever. Always and eternally sporting the same disheveled short black hair and the same mischievous yet tortured blue eyes, eyes that had put you in more trouble than you could remember. “Two years or so … I don’t know.”             All you could remember was a passionate summertime infatuation that had burnt your body and your heart night and day like a hot and dazzling sun. A fading yet intense memory you secretly cherished and replayed in period of loneliness and that you couldn’t seem to be able to replace on the timeline of your life. “Still so beautiful, I see.” You scoffed and he chuckled. “What?”       “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” He scratched his head; arm muscles compressed in a leather jacket à la Jason that made you wonder how he could bear wearing such a light jacket in such freezing weather. “I tend to believe constancy is a quality.” You goggled at his smile, childish, adorable yet naturally so seductive. The same smile that used to make your legs shake and turn to jell-o. “I didn’t know you were back in Gotham.”         “Right back at you. Last time I heard of you, you were in this little town … Hopletown, was it?”   “Appleton.” He corrected. “Looks like Timbo talks about me in my absence.”           “You’re his brother. Of course, he talks about you, just like everyone else in your family.” Judging by his signature small crooked smile on his face he seemed touched by your words, taking even time to ponder over them. Did the family really think of him in his absence?

Shivering, you tightened your wool coat around you, attempting to prevent the cold wind to infiltrate under the cloth and steal your body heat, as you let Jason think about what you had just said. But your reaction didn’t go unnoticed and it managed to pull him out of his train of thoughts. “Do you want to go somewhere warmer? We could have something to drink, catch on. I’m sure you got plenty to tell.”         “Not plenty but I could use a hot tea.” You confessed, already imagining the spicy smell of cinnamon and chai in your nostrils and the hot steam caressing your cold face.     “Amazing.” He grinned, genuinely happy and excited, a bit like a little boy at a toy store, and lowered your beanie to properly cover your ice-cold reddened ears. That gesture got you confused for a small second but it was so sweet and caring you eventually smiled. Ah Todd, always the overprotective type I see.

***

“So, what are you doing in Gotham City? I thought you wanted to ‘travel the world Dora The Explorer-style and get the hell out of this cesspool’?” He quoted you and your genuine chuckle made him smile but only briefly as you gained back your seriousness in a matter of seconds.

He could tell you were not the same girl he used to date two summers ago. You had changed, matured. You had become a woman, a woman who seemed to struggle with responsibilities so heavy they could crush her at any second. You looked tired, weary… sad even. The cheeky light in you was gone. And he wanted to know why. Not out of curiosity but to help you.           “Well, I did travel and it was awesome, like a dream come true. But I guess we always wake up from dreams eventually.” You looked down at your tea, looking at your pale reflection in the hot water, melancholia hitting you like a train. “My mother got sick and, well, her savings were not enough to pay for all the medical care so … let’s say I had to swap my backpack for a satchel… I work at Wayne Enterprises now. Bruce hired me, out of pity I suppose.”         “I’m sure it wasn’t out of pity.” You shrugged and Jason grabbed your hand and you looked up at him. “And I’m sorry about your mother. I know how it’s like to …”     “Do you still think about us?” You abruptly cut him short, not willing to keep talking about your personal issues or to plunge Jason back in dark memories that you know were very hard for him to handle.     Sure, you could have chosen another question, another topic of conversation but the thing was that those words were niggling at you since the moment you two broke up. “I mean do you happen to think about what happened between us?”

Jason didn’t answer at first, more out of surprise than out of hesitation because there was none. There was just one answer to that question. Of course.             Of course he had thought about you all over those two years. Of course he had thought about what happened, about the moments spent with you – however ephemeral they had been -, about that love he had felt and had never learned to completely erase despite the women who had entered and exited his life. Of course there had been nights in which he had replayed the lustful burning memories of you in his arms, against him, against his naked body. Of course was the answer. But not the answer he gave you. “Come with me.” He forced you to get up and slammed a fifty-dollar bill against the table, not caring about the hot chocolate he hadn’t finished or the blueberry muffin you had barely touched. “But … the change.” You tried to protest.         “Fuck the change. I want to show you something.”

***

           Out of all the places in Gotham, you never thought he would have brought you here. “Why are we here, Jason?”       It was an ancient building, far from the fancy city centre and only a few blocks away from Crime Alley. Dilapidated, covered in colorful yet ugly graffiti, this place looked liked a landmark for drug dealers and junkies and it was an understatement to say that, without Jason’s company, it would have normally made you feel unsafe and uncomfortable.         “I grew up here, before Bruce took me in.” You glanced at Jason who was staring at the place with both disgust and melancholia. “I’ve always hated that place. But it was home. And I guess it made me… I guess that is because of that place that I somehow became the man I am today… I mean, if Jason Todd hadn’t grow up here with a junkie mother and a lousy father he would have never met Brue Wayne and never became …” He stopped, on purpose, you could tell it. “Even if I hate to, I come back here when I want to think of my past, when I’m looking for a reason to keep on fighting. This place is like my temple, a memento of who I am. Damn, you must think I’m crazy.”         “ No, not at all… ” You smiled and put your hand on his arm to reassure him. “Just very Romantic for the bad boy of the Wayne family.” You teased him, knowing perfectly that literature always been Jason’s hobbyhorse and that the whole bad boy thing was a persona, a thick armour he had made to protect himself.     “Blame Alfred. He’s the one who made me ready Wordsworth.” He joked, appreciating the small banter. “Follow me.”           You took the warm hand he offered you and followed him inside the decaying building, minding your step and trying to ignore the dirt and the potential rats.          

Once on the third floor, Jason pushed a rackety wooden door that cracked and squeaked on its hinges and you entered what once was his house. “You grew up here?” You asked only to fill the heavy void caused by this dreadful place. “It was the living room. Used to hide under the table there when my parents were fighting.”

You looked around you, trying to imagine a small Jason living in here. You always knew about his crappy childhood but there is a huge difference between what you had imagined based on the stories Jason had told you in the intimacy of your bedroom and this place.       “You asked me why we’re here.” You turned around and spotted Jason knelt on the dusty wooden floor, a small dusty shoebox that he had just taken from under a floorboard between his hands. “I’ve had this since I was a child. Used to keep the things I loved most in it. Somehow, even after I left this place, I never could take it away from here.” He handed it to you and you slowly opened it, careful not to drop it. You could tell this box was important to Jason.

The content left you silent and you sat on the floor near Jason to study it. “I never really opened it. I don’t like getting stuck in the past. It terrifies me.” You frowned, thinking about all the nightmares, all the anxiety attacks he used to have back in the days you were together. “I never showed it to anyone either but hopefully that’ll answer the question you asked me in that coffee shop.” The question? You had forgotten about it, way too overwhelmed by the sudden solemnity of this moment.  “Never?”           “You’re my first. You should be proud” He tried to joke to lighten the mood and it worked for a couple of seconds. Then, you saw it, among a dog toy, a broken necklace, a batarang and other small tokens. A photo of you two kissing and smiling. A Polaroid you had personally taken on the day when Tim had offered you the camera to illustrate your travel book. “You kept it.” You declared in a whisper.     “I told you. I keep the things I love most in that box.” You stared at Jason, at the cracks of melancholia and the vulnerability in his beautiful blue eyes he allowed only a few people to see. “Of course I thought of you over the years.”       You were not the cheesy romantic type. Jason was - something rooted to his love for gothic literature and poetry you supposed. But that sincere and pure confession got you all … flushed? bothered? You couldn’t really pinpoint the feeling but you could feel the shaky warmth spreading in your body, now paralyzed by the beauty of that moment. “Did you … think of me?”

If Time could stop, you would have chosen this moment to stop it. Here, now, away from your stressful life and its issues, away from all fears and all pains, with Jason and only him, forgetting about the past you’ll never be able to change or the future that vows to be uncertain and scary, thinking about what truly matters, now. “What do you think?” He chuckled and you saw his hand slightly twitch, as if he was hesitating to do something. And so you took it in yours and shared an umpteenth intimate look only he could read. “Sometimes I wish I’d never left.” Meaning, sometimes I wish I would have stayed and be with you.           “Trust me, princess. You made the right choice. Your life would have been miserable with me.” He tried to reassure you, in vain. After all, he could barely convince himself? “More miserable than the one I have right now? I seriously doubt it, Jay.” You frowned and finally got up, leaving Jason’s box on the ground, to watch at the sunset and its red golden rays from the shattered window. “What do you think would have happened had I stayed?” You had your ideas; small little ones of pure love, happiness and bliss that Jason would have managed to lock in that little box of his. “I have a better question, Y/N. What do you think can happen right now?” He was towering you, expecting an answer, waiting as he was gazing at your skin glowing under the soft light of the sun and at your shining eyes. “You tell me, Todd.” This sentence echoed in Jason’s head as a call.

And so his thumb brushed your cold cheek and you looked up at his face, your eyes glued to his features observing them and all the small details you hadn’t noticed before. A little scar thin as a needle on his right brow and a much bigger one, an invisible one that you could see in his eyes, the scar left by all the losses and the pains he had gone through recently. Roy, Bizarro, Artemis. Maybe Jason had changed as well after all. Maybe there was no secret to stop time. But he didn’t let you ponder over this and gently pressed his lips on yours.

He needed that. He had thought about it all day and the truth was, you had too. You welcomed his kiss without hesitation or second thoughts and came to press your small body against his - which seemed so tall and strong in comparison to yours – to instinctively look for safety and protection. “I missed you, princess.” He whispered close to your mouth for a brief second before capturing your full lips with his again. “I missed you too.” You confessed, hands over his hard chest, feeling his heart beat loudly under your palms.     Jason was holding you close now, his arms tightly circled around your form as if he was scared for you to leave, scared to be alone again. His fingers weaving in your hair, his head buried in the nape of your neck, he was pecking your delicate skin, smelling the sweet and heady perfume, glad it was exactly like the one he remembered. “Damn, Y/N. You’re still driving me crazy.”  He murmured as he allowed his hands to slide in your coat and under your jumper to caress your bare back, awakening a cheekiness that you thought was long gone. “I tend to believe constancy is a quality.” You quoted him.

***

           As soon as the door to your apartment slammed shut, your coat dropped to the floor and with hasty hands, Jason threw your beanie across the room, showing an excitement you had almost forgotten. It almost knocked an old crystal vase over but he couldn’t care less.   He had waited long enough. Two years to be precise and he couldn’t wait a second longer. “Bedroom?” He asked between two hungry kisses that were making you almost suffocating against him. “ At the end of the corridor.” You whispered, already breathless, as you managed to finally get rid of his leather jacket.       “Okay.” He suddenly grabbed you to hoist you up with incredible ease, hands under your ass, squeezing it on purpose. A lustful yet cheerful action that made you yelp in surprise.  “I’m already making you scream? Perfect.” He declared with an amused smile as he rushed towards the bedroom, with you in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips devouring yours.     “Wrong door.” You said as he tried to open the bathroom. “Fuck.” You giggled and very soon your body finally bounced on your bed as it landed on the soft mattress.

You attempted to sit down to admire Jason but before you could do anything the hasty young man was already on top of you, right in between your legs, his lips already kissing your hot belly as his hands were slowly pulling up your jumper above your lace-covered breasts.           That’s when your first moan finally escaped your mouth. “God. I missed that sound.” Jason mumbled against your shivering skin as he cupped and squeezed your round breasts. “Do it again.” He demanded, his tongue licking you up until it reached your cleavage. “Jason.” You moaned his name, feeling a very specific humid warmth forming in between your legs as you fingers were struggling to get rid of his green t-shirt.   He cursed and knelt on the bed to take off your jumper that he carelessly tossed on the nightstand. It knocked the lamp and the radio alarm clock to the ground with a loud clinking noise. “Can you stop breaking my stuff?” You joked and he apologized with another amused bright smile. “I’m sorry, princess”             “Are you? Show me how much.” You declared with an audacious confidence you hadn’t seen in a while. “Yes, ma’am.” Jason winked and immediately unbuttoned your jeans to pull them down along with your panties, revealing your wet and rosy womanhood begging for his attention. He sighed and took a deep breath when he saw it, glad to rediscover that little part of you. Slowly, his calloused fingers went to caress it, making you draw a sharp breath as your fingers tightened around the covers. You didn’t want him to tease you too long and you somewhat you know he wouldn’t. Not today. He was too excited and needy for that.     And so were you in a way judging by the certain frustration that made you mewl when Jason’s expert finger slowly entered you while his thumb came to tickle your swollen clit. You wanted him now but you had to admit you had missed his fingers down there, the same way you had missed everything about him. Which reminded you there was something you had to do. “Let’s even the odds, shall we? I want to see how you handle such a sweet torture.”   “Sweet torture?” He repeated with a cute chuckle as you unbuckled his leather belt. “How am I torturing you, Y/N?” You unzipped his black trousers and immediately plunged you hand in his underwear to gently grab his already hard cock, making Jason curse even more crudely than before.           You chuckled and free his shaft from his boxers to jerk him off. He was as thick and long as you remembered. You bit your lower lip, impatient to feel him inside you. “Like what you see?”             “Shut up.” You knelt on the mattress and immediately took his tip between your lips to suck it like a lollipop, enjoying the taste of his bitter pre-cum on your tongue and the sound of Jason’s sharp breath in your ears. “Damn it, princess.” He managed to say with half lidded eyes.   You licked his penis with a grin before finally welcoming it in your mouth with a lustful moan. How much you had missed it. “You know. I think I get what you mean by sweet torture now.” Jason confessed as he weaved his fingers in your soft hair, torn apart by two ideas: one, let you continue your amazing blow job. Two, fuck you like he never did before. But you did not listen and started bobbing your head the way you knew he loved, taking his dick as deep as you could without gagging around him. “Fucking hell, Y/N” Jason groaned as he grabbed your head between his hands to accompany your pace. “You’re fucking amazing.” Then, his hand gently slapped your ass and he bent over to kiss it with a loving smile that was swallowed by another growl of his as his abs violently tensed with pleasure. “Alright, enough.” He pushed you flat on your back and placed himself between your legs again. He kissed your folds and licked your slit to wet it even more than it already was to finally lingered on your clit that he sucked eagerly, forcing a guttural crying moan out of your tightly sealed lips. Damn, that tongue! “I thought you said enough.” You complained, your voice as low as a whisper.

Jason chuckled and smiled brightly before he eventually knelt in between your spread thighs. “God, how gorgeous you are.” He declared as he tapped his hard cock against your reddened lips, a cheeky gesture whose sole purpose was to make you beg. You knew it. “You want this?”       “Fuck, Jay.” You grumbled, moving your hips vigorously against his shaft, looking for a way to finally welcome it inside you. But Jason ignored your whim and bent over your body. “You want me?” His face was so close to yours you could feel his hot breath caressing your lips. “Yes.” You murmured. “I want you, Ja…” He did not let you finish your sentence and caught your lips with a burning eagerness, his hand around his cock guiding it inside you, making you moan in his mouth. “Fuck.” Jason growled between his gritted teeth as he felt himself slowly sinking inside of you. “I almost forgot you felt so tight.” “ I almost forgot you were so big.” You cleared your voice, an inexplicable mechanism to relax and allow his cock to fully enter and stretch you. “I know. Sorry.” He winced, adjusting his position on top of you to admire how beautiful you were around his penis and how perfect you pussy was for him. “Damn. I don’t know if I’ll last long, princess.” Jason admitted with a shiver and you cried out when he suddenly pulled out to push himself back inside of you with one long exquisite move. “That’s alright. We’ll do it again.”

Those last words made Jason grin in a way he had never done before as he was genuinely happy that you didn’t want this to be a one-time thing, a casual lay to remember the old good days.       So he immediately took a nice pace that quickened after each new thrust and you let your hands caress his smooth chest from his strong pectorals down to his divine abs and the chiselled V below his navel, finding him simply handsome. Then you nudged his rear with your ankles, pressing his hips closer to yours to take him deeper inside of you, and started moaning his name again, a strong wave of pleasure forming in your core, ready to drown you. “Jay!” His mouth met your neck and sucked on the thin skin with ardour. “Are you gonna cum for me, princess?” That was too much to handle. “Yeah” You cried out, tears of bliss watering your eyes.       “Cum for me then.” He didn’t have to say it twice. You dug your nails in his back and screamed loudly as your walls clenched around tightly his thick cock. “That’s it, princess.” He said as you kept calling his name on and on, sending him closer to a most awaited orgasm that he eventually reached and let explode in you under the shape of a loud growled “fuck” and beads of white seed right inside of you. “Y/N” Jason groaned between his gritted teeth as he thrust hard and deep in you for the last time, his sweaty forehead against yours. “Jay!” You shouted again while clawing at his back painfully enough to make him wince and hiss.     Then he stopped moving, exhausted and breathless just like you, and watched you sink in the mattress trying to catch your breath. He caressed your hair as you both slowly came down from cloud nine. A kiss on your nose and he whispered. “You’re okay?” and in spite of the silliness of the question you nodded. “Never been better.”

Your lips found each other again and Jason let himself lie down on you, placing his head on your breasts, listening to your hearts pounding and to your loud ragged breaths. “I missed you.” He whispered and he held you body against his.     “I missed you too.” You repeated as you planted a kiss in his wet dark hair. “Did you have to keep your jeans on?” The question escaped with a laugh and Jason chuckled. “You know me. Didn’t want to waste any time.” He managed to gather the little energy he had left to sit down and finally remove his trousers as he thought he would feel more comfortable without them. “Oops. I think I broke your clock.” He grimaced as he noticed you the broken device on the floor and the flickering numbers flashing up endlessly on the screen. “I don’t care.” You said as you pulled Jason back against you. “We’ve got all the time we need.”

#Jason Todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #fanfiction #one shot

[waywardimpalawriter]

Ain’t no sunshine when he’s gone (Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader)

Ain’t no sunshine when he’s gone

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: angst, hurt, comfort, 

Word count: 1,795 (It wasn’t suppose to be this long, seems I can never write anything shorter than a 1,000 words.)

Summary: Lone phone booth, broken hearts and empty words, promises he tries to keep. Wanting to make his way back with the sunshine.

Notes: Let me start by saying I’m sorry but I’m not really. You may need tissues. Written for the very lovely @autumnleaves1991-blog​ for Writer Wednesday. I figured since last weeks was fluffy I’d break out a little angst for this week. Set before and right after the events in Triple Frontier. Inspired by the amazing Bill Withers song “Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone.”

“You’re promised no more trips, you’d stay home help raise Luciana, be here,” last words whispered more to yourself than to the man standing opposite. Knowing what you signed up for being the girlfriend of a military man. It’s different now though he’s out, no more deployments to places all God knew about. Going weeks, mostly months without seeing him. Warm body held tightly in your arms when he came home, soothing the nightmares that followed.  

Dropping his head, chin resting on his chest not wanting to look into those hurt eyes. For anyone else he’d say no but these fella’s are family, you know this having taken them all in like brothers. Frankie understood your anger more directed at the fact he’s leaving you alone when he’s promised that would never happen again. “I’m sorry mi amor,” raising his head to stare at you. Crystalline tears catch light from the near by lamp glinting mockingly. Knowing sorry isn’t enough empty words and promises laying bare between the both of you.

“How…” arms wrapping around you plush middle. Fending off the worry and holding yourself together even for a few moments. “How long?”

Taking a step towards you, “Three days max. Pope says it’s just a quick recon and intel job. You won’t even miss me.” Corny joke tasting bitter on his tongue that licks across dry lips. Unsure if you’d accept him right now but wanting to hold you so badly. “It’ll be quick and easy sweetheart, then I’ll be back with my girls.”

“Three days?” Seeing him nod you swallow harshly staying still for a moment longer. Till you couldn’t stop yourself from running into his arms, wrapping them so tightly around his body the air is knocked from his lungs. Vise grips of flesh and bone holding on securely, wishing the trip would already be over. “You come back to me you hear Fransisco Morales or so help me I’ll search all over this God forsaken planet till I find you myself.” Words muttered and clogged with tears streaming down cold cheeks. “You have a daughter to raise…”

“And a woman to love,” peeling himself back from your embrace. His own arms resting on your thick waist, large hands splayed out over your back taking in your warmth and love. “I promise mi amor I’ll be back in no time.”

It’s on the tip of your tongue to ask him to stay. Plead your case, demand he make good on those promises spoken with the last deployment. Yet, you know this is different and that’s what scares you the most truly. You’d loose so much with this one trip. They won’t have backing by the government in case… pushing those thoughts away you press yourself deeper into Frankie’s body. Stealing his calm, trying to soak it into your veins and sooth your nerves. Knowing the only way to truly do that is by having him stay and you’d never be selfish to ask.

“You know there’s no sunshine when you’re gone,” pressing your lips to the little patch of missing hair in his scruffy beard. “Come back to me Frankie I can’t do this without you.”

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

It's not warm when she's away

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

And she's always gone too long

Anytime she's goes away

A week and two days he’s been gone. Nerves shot to hell you asked Will’s girlfriend Abby to watch Luciana for a couple of hours. Knowing the other woman needed a distraction from the worry just as much. You scooping up the keys, placing a quick kiss to your daughter’s forehead, a nod to Abby and you’re out the door. Heading to that little spot you and Frankie like to camp. Drawing a smidgeon of peace from the place that’s much loved between you.

Trying to keep those pesky, traitorous thoughts from invading your mind. Imagines long forgotten with the Delta force days behind you, resurface every night Frankie’s gone. Picturing the worst every time your eyes close. Fists clinching at your sides long sorrow filled scream winds itself from deep within your chest. Thankful no living humans are around to hear the agony scare any woodland creatures far away. Screaming till your throat is raw and parched. Dropping to your knees not caring about the dirt and buries that’ll show up later. In the back of your mind the little voice chastising you for having so little faith in Frankie.

It couldn’t be helped thought, you missed your sunshine. Wanted his presence more than your next breath. To see that ratting Standard Heating oil cap cover his curls, left dimple making an appearance when he smiles at you. Wrapping your arms around his body drinking in the scent of piney woods, touched with motor oil and a spice that’s all Frankie. Afraid of what state he’ll be in that is if he returns. Face pressed into shaky hands hiding from the world as tears coat the palms in salty moisture while rocking your body. Trying to push those thoughts out of your mind to form happier, sun filled ones. Not realizing the rain started to fall from heavy laden clouds, promising a soaker of a storm. Till ramblings of thunder make you gasp and look up. Fitting stormy grey skies meet your sorrowful eyes. Raindrops hitting your upturned face, dropping   into your eyes making them blink closed. Heart aching for the man you love and wishing for Aladdin’s magic lamp to grant you just one precious wish that’s all you needed.

Shivering from your soaked clothes, gusty winds howling through the pines returning your grief. Slowly you manage to drag yourself up and back to Frankie’s truck. Sitting watching the rain slash against the aged windshield. Creating different rivers and puddles of water, sunlight catching a perfect drop when the clouds part and shine into the cab and over your face. Warming the cool skin as a sob leaves your throat praying this burst of light is a good omen.

Wonder this time where she's gone

Wonder if she's gone to stay

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

And this house just ain't no home

Anytime she goes away

You stare at the cell phone laying on the seat beside you. Hoping it’ll ring with a number you don’t recognize. Pleading for some kind of answer anything to stop the worry. When no answer me dance lights the piece of tech you slam an open palm against the steer wheel unable to keep the tears from sliding down your face. Unaware of how long you’ve sat there eyes closed rain pouring down around you.

Bill Withers smooth tenor making you jump and clutch at your chest. Eyes flying open to stare out into the utter darkness surrounding you not recognizing the ringtone for half a second. Fear and dread incasing your wildly thumping heart as you reach out for the cell phone. Not recognizing the number, you shakily press and slide your finger. Putting the phone to your ear breath lodged in your throat. Dry and deep from screaming, “Frankie?”

Shattering at the sound of your sweet scratching voice, Frankie sags against the phone booth. Warm glass meeting sweat soaked button up covered back trying to hold in the sob. “It’s me mi corazón,” finally answering short whimper on the end of the endearment. Making him bite the inside of his cheek to stop any other sounds from escaping. Dragging in the humid night air to fill his lungs and steady his heart. The heat is oppressive hanging heavy around the small glass and metal enclosure as his large hand grips the weathered plastic receiver.

“What happened mi sol?” Fear gripping tightly around your heart at hearing the sorrow in his voice. Aching to hold him and chase away the darkness you know will follow.

Pressing a hand to the glass cursing the fact this call wouldn’t be long enough to explain himself. “When I get home I’ll tell you everything sweetheart. I’m on an old pay hone right now so there’s not much time. I just…” swallowing harshly, eyes closing over those sadden brown eyes. “I needed to hear your voice.”

“I’m here baby,” wiping at the tears of relief and sitting up straighter in the bench truck seat. It didn’t matter what happened just knowing he’s alive and coming home to you it all that’s important. They could sort out the rest in time. “When are you coming home Frankie? Luciana misses her daddy.”

Watery chuckle leaves his lips, head resting on the dirty glass behind him, “I’ve missed her to hermosa,” taking another breath to steady himself. “I love you so fucking much.”

Heart clinching tightly at his words the desperation in the tone destroying you. Responding without thought, “I love you to Frankie,” gulping in a breath whimpers bitten off to keep from him knowing how torn up you are. Clap of thunder followed the streaks of lighting illuminating the night sky making you jump and gasp.

“Where are you sweetheart?” Having heard the thunder a little too loudly for you to be at home.

For the first time in your relationship you think of lying to him so he didn’t worry. But you remember the promise made and wouldn’t break it. “Our place,” comes the short answer hearing silence on the other end and you think he’s run out of time.

Finally finding his voice pushing through the pain in his heart. “I’m sorry mi corazón we… I never should’ve…”

“Shh Frankie it’s okay I came here to be closer to you. Wishing for you to call and you did,” soft chuckle leaving your mouth accompanying a small sob. “My sunshine broke through to let me know you were okay and coming home before you called.”

Pulling his cap off to rest on top the worn metal of the cradle and run a shaky hand through his curls. “I think you have that backwards, you’re my sunshine sweetheart and I can’t wait till I see you shine for me.” Electronic voice reminding him of the seconds he has left, precious and too few for his liking. “I’ve got to go mi corazón. I’ll be home soon I promise, I love you.”

“I love…” words cut off making Frankie curse and slam the receiver back into the cradle wanting to kick the old piece of junk. But knowing it wouldn’t get him anywhere but a busted foot most likely. He settles for slapping a palm against the glass before snatching up his cap and leaving the claustrophobic inducing box without a backwards glance. Setting his sights on the airport a short power walk away, towards home and into the arms of his girls.

#Writer Wednesday #Frankie Morales x F!Reader #Frankie Catfish Morales x F!Reader #Frankie Morales x F!You

[crazy4myself]

No Harm List Pt.4

Word Count: 7.2k

Summary: You live in a city where crime runs rampant. One day, you save a young boy's life, not knowing that he is the most powerful crime lord's heir. And you have just been put on the no harm list.

Trigger warnings: DESCRIPTION OF PANIC ATTACK!! I really took my time with writing this, trying my hardest to convey these feelings without being triggering. I also tried to make it as comforting as possible, but if you are feeling a little anxious maybe save this fic for a better day. Mental health first!  

Additional warnings: mentions of violence, explicit language, mentions of death,

Genre: Romance, angst, violence, gang/mafia AU, 

Rating: 18+  (bc of mentions of violence there’s no sexual content)

<- Pt.3

"Hobi, I don't wanna be mad. I just wanna know the truth,” you pleaded, voice wavering. And that was the truth, you felt like you could care less if he was in a gang. It was Alcorn, you had to be in a gang to survive if you weren't rich.

Upon seeing your eyes water and your lip tremble, Hoseok instantly wished you would scream at him. He didn't want to hurt you. He didn't mean for it to go this far. For you two to get so close after his sister's death, or for him to lie to you for so long. He told himself he kept you out of it for your safety, but really it was just too easy for him to live two lives, for you to look at him like he wasn't a murderer and for him to pretend for a few hours that he wasn't. 

He sighed, sitting on the couch, and you plopped down next to him and waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. 

"I guess it's best to start at the very beginning, which was when I was around 16," he started. 

"I lived in the same neighborhood as these two guys RM and Suga. They had actually served some time for getting busted with another gang, the Dime Lions, they're long gone now but basically, some shit went down during some kind of gang raid, and RM and Suga ended up taking the fall for it. Instead of the Dime Lions busting them out of jail, they left them there and basically disowned them afterward."

You nodded along to let him know you were following. 

"Anyways RM and Suga, they had a rough start when they got out of the gang, both were bastards, street rats on the Westside they never had anyone to look out for them. So they did the only thing they could do at the time to survive, which was breaking it to cars and shit and cleaning them out. I don't just mean personal belongings of these guys took engine parts, piping, tiers they took it all, and sold it to any scrap shops they could find. At the time, I was working at my uncle's scrapyard. I knew RM and Suga when they were in middle school before they joined the Dime Lions. They stayed with the foster family that lived in my neighborhood. I knew they had been kicked out of the house and were basically living with the Lion's, so when I saw they were working alone, I got curious. For a year or so, I convinced my uncle to continue buying from them even when he started getting a little suspicious about the guys stealing. The guys knew I looked out for them, and we were cool for a while. Then my mom got sick," he paused for a moment looking away from you.

You reached out and placed your hand on his leg knowing how hard it was for him to talk about his mom and Dawon. 

Collecting himself, Hoseok went on, "So I asked for an in with the guys, I needed money and I knew cars. I could remove the parts more effectively than they could. I also knew some clientele who were always coming by and buying parts because they flip cars for fun, those guys were easy targets. So I guess the three of us were a little gang of misfits for a while, I used the money to help pay for mom's treatment. They used the money to survive.

Then we started taking some younger ones under our wing. RM and Suga got their own place and opened their doors to some kids in a rough spot like they were. But as we got bigger, we started getting sloppy. We had been at it for about a year at this point. The guys started taking on some other jobs, but I stuck to what I did best. I wasn't really interested in broadening my horizons. Like I said, we had been at it for a while, and I got cocky, I guess. We had a few scuffles here and there, but we always got out of them okay. Then one night, we got busted scraping a car at some guy's house, and he shot me in the leg, and the cops got me. RM ended up bailing me out of jail, and Suga, Suga got me a gun." 

He shifted in his seat and looked at you nervously, "I wanted out at this point, mom was basically on her deathbed, and I was all Dawon had. I couldn't risk going to jail, ya know. I owed RM money for bail, but my uncle got me a job as an actual mechanic, I thought I could earn money the honest way, pay them back and then Dae and I could just go back to our lives. But then the doctors told us about some experimental treatment that could possibly cure mom. How the hell could I pass that up? I would have done anything to help her get better." his brows furrowed as he tightened his fist into balls.

 "So I stayed. At this point, BTS was growing, it was an official gang, tattoo and all. We had recruited Jin, who came from money, he used some of his trust fund to fund BTS and help us grow, and RM was starting to get a little ambitious. He wanted territory, he wanted me to take the tattoo and be his third." Hobi squeezed his eyes shut as he let out a sigh, he felt like he had to force the words out of him to confess his sins to you. 

"I told you Suga got me a gun after the arrest, and it ended up I'm a really good shot, so good I didn't even have to kill a guy for a long time. I researched where to shoot to keep someone down for a long while without it being fatal, so that's what I did. I worked a few more jobs for RM, we did a big heist. Actually, that was our big break. A team of six other guys and I broke into this old rich dude's mansion, nearly cleaned out his safe when we split the money most of the guys put a percentage into my pot. I walked out that night with almost enough to pay for mom's treatment in full. 

I told RM I wouldn't be his third, and he offered me an out, I just needed to take one more job for him, and he would pay out the rest of mom's bills, so that's what I did. I killed for the first time, and then I was free. I wouldn't have to do any of it again. Well, that's what I intended," he paused, his voice growing softer. 

You tried to keep your face neutral as he revealed the horrors to you. Not that it mattered Hoseok couldn't even bring himself to look at you.

"Mom ended up passing that night." he laughed, a bitter sound that felt foreign to the kind man you knew, "I swear whatever cruel god is out there pulling all the strings did it to punish me. To let me know, they saw what I had become and that I didn't deserve to have people I love in my life. I wasn't good enough to feel love in this world," 

"Hobi, that's not-" he cut you off with a bitter laugh as he looked upwards to hold back his tears. The motion made him seem as though he was searching for the fates he mocked. "Don't y/n, I know what I am,"

"Dae was a senior when mom passed, and it absolutely broke her. I had to fight to get her to go to school for those last few months. Hell, it was a fight to get her out of bed for her graduation. Her exit exams were a disaster, and the councilors at the college were understanding, for the most part. They still admitted her to the school, but not a drop of financial aid was offered to her. She deserved so much more," Hobi's voice was laced with bitter disdain, his eyes looking far off. 

"So I did everything I could to give it to her. I borrowed from Namjoon, enough to cover her entire admission at Alcorn University."

"Hobi, that's so much," you couldn't hold the comment in. It was near impossible for an ordinary person to buy their way into Alcorn if they didn't get scholarships, the tuition at the prestigious school was over $20,000 a semester for admission alone. 

"And I did it, I had Jin make up a fake scholarship for her, send her a cute little letter telling her about the award. She thought that she earned a full ride, and I let her believe it. I even borrowed enough so she would stay in the dorms, I figured it would be safest to keep her out of the house. I didn't know what kind of jobs RM was going to have me do."

"I took the tattoo, and killing became more of a normal thing for me. It started to get easier, I kept my distance and tried my hardest to not even see their eyes. 

There was a big turf war that year. I don't know, the city was on the brink of a recession, a lot of big players in the city were changing the rules of the game. Business owners fought to take down other businesses simply so theirs could stay open, the market was a disaster. I never cared about the politics of any of it, I just did what I was told, and because of that, I'm still not totally sure all I did that year. What lives I took. Who all I hurt. I did everything I could to forget those nights and the blood. I told myself I was doing it for a good reason, ya know. 

I didn't want to know, I thought I would save that for the day I'm standing outside of hell, and they list off every single one of my evil deeds before they sentence their judgment." Hoseok's vacant eyes started to shine with tears.

 "And that was the stupidest fucking thing I could have ever done. I had no clue who had it out for me, I had started feeling invincible. I didn't even consider that someone would want to take their revenge, I had killed Kim Martin Sr.'s son." 

Your blood chilled at the name, and he didn't look at you as he continued.

"He was some big business owner or something, I was supposed to kill him, but there was a mix-up, and I got his son, Kim Martin Jr. instead. Whoever made the call decided that killing his son was just as effective because the grief practically destroyed him. A few misguided stock investments, while he was grieving, crashed his empire. He lost everything and had to move to the Westside in the aftermath. 

Suga kept good tabs on the guy, but then he fell off the grid. We figured he left town or hell maybe he died. We didn't consider him a threat, he showed no interest in coming after BTS, so I didn't even think to keep an eye out for Dawon."

You felt hot tears roll down your face as you realized what happened. The media painted Martin as the bad guy. They accused him of losing his business after his son died due to extreme drug abuse. The city officials wrote him off as such a pathetic low life, that come the time of his death that his murder was barely investigated. It was simply declared a drug deal gone wrong. But he was a father, a father who lost everything to a hitman and wanted to return the favor. 

Hoseok believed he didn't deserve love. Whatever higher power that was calling the shots took everything away from him as punishment. 

You think of your best friend now long passed, her beautiful smile and contagious laugh. The way she could always read you and knew exactly what you needed, whether it be your favorite ice cream on your period or a trip to the botanical gardens in the middle of the night when she knew you were missing home a bit more than normal.

There was a loose glass in the greenhouse that hosted the plants native to your home. You would both scale the fence to the gardens late at night and push that glass panel in and carefully crawl into the greenhouse. The air would be filled with the floral scents you grew up with, and you would just walk the rows of plants and run your fingers over the velvet petals and waxy leaves. 

Until Dawon would play music, a playlist the two of you made of songs in your native tongue. You would dance around the humid greenhouse singing on the top of your lungs while Dawon would laugh and clap along, excitedly shouting with you when she recognized a word or two. 

You thought about the way you and Hoseok both carried a burden of guilt after she passed. Until now, you had felt like you failed her as a best friend and roommate. 

For three years, you had tortured yourself with thoughts like if you hadn't procrastinated so much on your assignments that week, you would have been home when she decided to make a late snack run. You told yourself the robber probably wouldn't have stopped her if you were together. You reasoned that two of you would have deterred her as a target. 

Or maybe he would have just shot you instead. Dawon would have recovered from the loss so much better, she had Hoseok to comfort her and family and friends to support her. You were merely an exchange student in a city with no morals, loved by no one, but taken in out of guilt by her brother. It would've been a better trade. 

You tortured yourself with these thoughts day and night consumed with feelings similar to survivor's guilt.

You never understood Hoseok's guilt, until tonight, you felt like there was nothing he could have done to make that night play out differently. But now you realize he could have anything, and it might have made a difference. 

"Y/n, I understand if you hate me," Hoseok said softly, watching the tears that dripped down your cheek as you processed everything he told you.

"I wanted to honor Dawon's wish. I didn't expect you to do so much for me, for you to become my best friend and for you to make me feel normal. I kept this from you because you were the closest thing to her I had left. There was a time where I thought I would distance myself from you when you moved out. That I would just become another hazy detail to the tragedy, and you would move on completely with your life, but y/n you were so sad, and you needed me too. 

When you moved out, I was terrified of something happening to you. I couldn't stop myself from checking up on you. I couldn't let us grow apart." Hoseok's voice broke off as you looked at him, the pain and betrayal in your eyes.

 "Y/n, you're the closest thing I have to redemption, protecting you, being your friend is the last thread of humanity I have left, I can't lose you," he pleaded. 

"You watched me blame myself," you whispered accusingly, your eyes shining with betrayal. 

"You watched me tear myself apart, and used comforting me to make you feel better about yourself?" 

He flinched at your words, "I tried everything I could to convince you there was nothing you could have done," Hobi argued feebly. 

"Everything but tell the truth," you hissed as hot tears rolled down your cheek. 

You got up as a sob escaped you, your face red and snot running from your nose. Hoseok stood with you, but you flinched away with a broken no.

 "I need time, Hoseok," you begged. 

You swallowed thickly as you did everything in your power to keep it together, "I don't want to hate you, but please, I need time to think about everything," you assured. Even knowing what he did, he was right. You needed him too. If you lost him, you truly didn't have anyone in the city who cared if you lived or died tomorrow. And maybe settling for that made you your own kind of monster. 

It was funny how he claimed such a tarnished person could be his redemption. 

You secure your bag to your shoulder, stepping out into the night air and pulling the door closed behind you. You couldn't even bring yourself to lock the door behind you, afraid that if you stopped moving for one second that you would completely break down and be unable to make it home. You only hoped Hoseok was smart enough to check the door behind you and make sure to lock it. 

You counted the stairs as you made your descent and into the parking lot, making an effort to take in your surroundings. You tried to list off the colors of the cars as you passed them, and while some distant part of you did the action, you still felt like the effort wasn't reaching whatever corner of your brain you were hiding in. 

You got a lot better with controlling your anxiety attacks as you made it further in college, even going as far as taking advantage of the university's free therapy sessions to get professional guidance in your junior year. You defaulted to your go-to grounding technique as your feet moved of their own accord to carry you home. 5,4,3,2,1 was an exercise that made you aware of your surroundings and tether yourself to this world when your mind felt a dimension away. 

The technique walked you through your five senses, making you list off 5 things you could see, 4 things you could feel, 3 things you could hear, two things you could smell, and one thing you could taste. Even in your most anxious moments, you were a slut for making a good list. You always found this exercise more soothing than any breathing technique. 

Your eyes searched without really seeing as you tried to find five things you could see around you. Straining yourself to really take in your surroundings, you settled for a yellow fire hydrant, a car parked on the side of the road, a penny on the ground, a drainage inlet tucked into the curb, and finally your own yellow shoes pacing down the concrete sidewalk. 

You were going to be okay, you reminded yourself as you took an intentional breath. 

Next, four things you can touch, you focused on your breathing as you reached an arm out to graze your fingertips along with the rough brick of the building you walked by.

You shifted a little more with each step, concentrating on how the fabric of your clothes moved across your skin and curling your toes into the padding of your shoes. You didn't count each feeling, your wandering mind struggling to really take in each sensation, but you were sure you touched four things by now.

This was a mistake you often caught yourself making when counting down like this. Sometimes you were in such a rush to reach the end and get to one as if identifying one taste would magically make all your anxieties go away that you forget to take it slow and really center yourself. 

Three things you can hear, it was at the time, as you strained to let the world in through the all-consuming pounding of your heart in your ears, that you realized you were whimpering to yourself slightly. The awareness of your own vulnerability made you stumble as your mind spiraled, and you struggled to find something to tether you back to the earth. 

You began walking faster before realizing you're not certain you were going the right way. So you came to a halt, realizing you couldn't bring yourself to focus enough to take in your surroundings. You stared at the street sign for a long time, repeating the letters to yourself as you made them form a word finally settling on Gardenia. 

Your breathing hitched as you realized you had wandered off the main streets and into a neighborhood in your daze. You were lost, but you couldn't bring yourself to care about it, and the lack of fear flashed an alarm in your mind that let you know you were too far gone to count away your anxieties.

You struggled to breathe as you tried to come up with a decision. You needed to ground yourself to calm down. You needed to list off 5 things you could see, fourth things you could feel, three things you could hear, two things you could smell, and one thing you could taste. You knew the only way to bring yourself back to the world was to become aware of your settings. 

But it felt as if the part of your brain that knew all these things didn't even touch whatever part of your mind was controlling you now. You were better off giving directions to the light pole you stood under. 

You felt your breathing get harder as you desperately gasped in all the air you could. Your arms and legs began to tingle as your body over oxidized, and your head began to spin. 

Slowly you slumped to the ground, wrapping your arms around the light pole you had stopped under as you spiraled. 

What were you even doing before this moment? How did you even get here? You forced your eyes open wide, hoping the action would make you actually see and register what you were looking at to no avail. 

What were you doing, what were you doing, what were you doing?

You struggled to reign in your thoughts of your laughing best friend and her crying brother. Or was it your crying best friend and his dead sister? 

You were supposed to find three things you could hear. Your crying doesn't count. A more logical voice seemed to get through to you. 

You strained your ears to hear past your own breathing, you could hear a frog croaking in the grass nearby, you felt the earth beneath you to confirm you had in fact settled in a patch of grass. You smiled to yourself proud of your progress as you continued to listen as you continued to listen. You heard the electricity buzzing in the light pole you had wrapped your arms around, you felt almost childlike as you opened your eyes. Actually, seeing this time as you looked up at the pole, you were around. 

You needed one more sound, you strained your ears, expecting to be met with something like a far off car driving by. Instead, you heard your name being called. You blinked as you turned away from the street lamp and towards the repeating sound of a familiar set of syllables coming from a familiar voice. 

Jungkook jogged up to as he saw you curled around a lamppost. Even from a distance, he could see the rapid way your chest was rising and falling in that familiar chaotic rhythm he only saw when he found Taehyung or Yoongi having a panic attack. You looked up at him with a tear-stained face and saw the confusion of his presence take you off guard and snap whatever control you had over yourself. 

Your face crumpled as a sob broke from your chest, and you turned away from him and curled yourself around the light pole a little tighter. 

Jungkook felt such a rush of guilt and panic at the sight of you so broken that he ignored the dull ache in his knees as he instinctively fell down in the grass next to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you from the cold metal pole, trying to position comfortably in his chest. 

Jungkook shifted as he uncurled his legs from beneath his body and stretched them out next to yours in front of him, trying to touch as much of his body to you in comfort. You didn't resist, but the jolting motions did seem to make you more upset for a short moment. Jungkook realized he forgot to ask for permission to touch you before he acted. 

He knew Tae preferred physical comfort to calm down, but sometimes it could act more as a trigger when unwelcomed. He loosened his grip hesitantly, and you wrapped your arms around his middle, hugging him closer to you in response. 

Physical contact is. He thought to himself as he began stroking one hand up and down your back and rocking you both side to side slightly as if he was trying to calm a baby from a tantrum. 

Which he basically was doing, you thought bitterly to yourself as you accepted the comfort.

You were too far gone to calm yourself down. You had ridden the river of upsetting thoughts that triggered your attack all the way down, and now you risked floating out to sea and losing yourself forever. Not actually forever, just until you would cry yourself unconscious and wake up to start anew. But you supposed accepting comfort was better than sleeping outside in a neighborhood you didn't know. 

Jungkook whispered to you, not the sweet nothings people typically say when they see people break down like 'it's going to be okay,' or most annoyingly 'breath.' No Jungkook simply told you, 'you're safe,' 'take your time,' 'you're stronger than you give yourself credit for' and in your case most importantly, 'exhale.' 

When people see you having a panic attack and hear the loud gasp you make as you fight to breathe, they instinctively tell you to breathe as a way to calm down. But it's your failure to let the air out that keeps your body over oxidized, making it harder for you to feel in control of yourself. 

Slowly, you regained control of your body, and your desperate gasps for air morphed into shallow panting. Your shallow breathing morphed into soft whimpers and sniffled. Jungkook held you as your continuous knit itself together, and you faced the pain your mind was so desperate to escape.

He rubbed you back as you let out soft sobs as you reopened wounds that had healed into jagged scars. You cried for Dawon and her undeserved death. For Hoseok and the guilt you knew, he carried every day. You cried for Kim Martin, who died at the hands of the killer that stole his son. You cried for yourself, over the fear of the future as you saw it grow intimately tangled with a notorious gang.

You don't know how long Jungkook waited as you reeled yourself back together. He waited long after you finished crying, knowing just because you had control of yourself physically didn't mean you were mentally ready to face the world, so he wrapped you in his warmth and hummed to himself as he rocked you both slowly. 

You loosened and tightened your grip on his shirt and curled and uncurled your toes as you tried to become more aware of your body. You were basically sprawled out on the grass with your upper body twisted and pulled into Jungkook's middle. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but you weren't willing to risk losing his warmth to move. 

You licked your lips, and the jarring taste of your salty tears pulled you from your self pitying thoughts, deciding to work your way up the list you once again started to count. 

One thing you taste, salt. 

Two things you smell: you inhaled deeply and took in the smell of laundry detergent that clung to Jungkkook's shirt. "Detergent," you mumbled into his shirt, and the sound of a coherent word leaving you made Jungkook's humming stop as he looked down at you, nuzzling your face deeper into his chest. He held in his chuckle as you stiffed the air again, and confidently said, "and grass."

You finally pulled yourself away from him only slightly to turn your face away from him, your cheek still pressed against his chest.

"I can hear frogs, cars nearby, and.. your heart," you listed as you looked up at him from under you thick lashes still clumped with tears, "it's louder than mine," you observed as you listened to the hammering in his chest. 

He was from a different kind of nerves. 

He recognized the countdown and realized you were working to ground yourself, "What can you feel?" he prompted eager to get you to move on from his pounding heart. 

"Your t-shirt, it's soft, the grass poking at me through my jeans, my bra digging into me" you wrinkled your nose as you became aware of the discomfort. 

"And?" Jungkook prompted. A smile curled your lips as you looked up at him mischievously, "You're abs," you giggled as you sat up, finally pulling away from him. Jungkook felt the heat crawl up his neck as he turned away, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. 

"And what do you see?" he asked gently, looking everywhere but you. 

You smiled at his bashfulness as you look around, "I see the street sign, the green grass," you pause as you squint, "I think that's either a rock or some dog poop over there," Jungkook let out a startled laugh. You smiled to yourself proudly as you continued. 

"Our shadows from the street light, and,” you pause realizing how close the two of you are, "the little mole underneath your lip."

"Good," he whispered, and you watched in fascination how his lips formed the words, "Are you ready to get up now, or do you need a few minutes?" he asked. It was the way his mouth twisted into a smile at the end of the sentence that made you realize you were still staring at his lips. You blinked before looking up at his eyes, which was alight with a teasing glint. 

"I can stand," you answered, flustered as you pulled your body away from him. Maneuvering your feet beneath you to get up. Jungkook offered you a hand once he was up helping pull you to your feet, before bending down and grabbing your purse for you. Your feet still tingled in that pins and needles feeling. You wiggled your hands to wake up your fingers as well, but other than that, you felt like you recovered from the physical toll of the panic attack quite well.

"C'mon my place is at the end of this road, let me grab a car and drive you home," he offered. 

You walked with him obediently, your hands brushing past each other twice before Jungkook's hand finally snatched yours mid-swing; you looked down and watched as your fingers intertwined with his effortlessly. You looked to him to see a change in his expression, but he looked straight ahead as he walked, acting as if nothing happened. 

You smiled at yourself, thankful for the affection. You always did get a little clingy after panic attacks, relying heavily on skinship and the feeling of someone taking care of you as a way to feel calm. You were surprised how easy it was for you to let Jungkook fall into that roll despite barely knowing him. But you suppose in the handful of interactions the two of you shared, he's always prioritized your comfort and safety. 

"This is your house?" you asked as you took in the massive white art deco house behind the gate you stopped in front of. The gate buzzed and rolled open for the two of you of its own accord and rolled open for the two of you. 

Jungkook smiled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah, kinda," he said with a shrug. 

You raised a brow, "kinda?"

"It's complicated, c'mon let's get you home," he said with a tug reminding you that the two of you were still holding hands. You flushed but followed obediently as you made your way to the garage. 

You squinted as your eyes were met with a flood of fluorescent light upon opening the door. A row of vehicles lined its way down the length of the garage, varying from sports car, to jeep, to a large black truck at the end of the row. A line of 4 motorcycles along the furthest wall. 

"J-Hope sells Namjoon a car any chance he gets," Jungkook chuckled as he took in your awed expression. 

"J-Hope?" you questions, and Jungkook's smile faltered.

"That's what we call Hoseok," he clarified. 

You nodded in understanding, "Like how Taehyung goes by V?" you asked, and he nodded. 

"Hoseok, does he sell drugs like V does?" you asked curious of what all Hoseok's gang involvement entailed.

Jungkook opened his mouth to answer but was cut off as the adjacent door slammed up from what looked to be inside the house, revealing a man in a black t-shirt with a mop of platinum blond hair. 

"There you are," he practically growled as he stormed in the room.

The man was dwarfed by Jungkook a good bit, but somehow Jungkook seemed to cower and appear smaller as the man approached, dropping your hand as if he were caught doing something he shouldn't. 

You looked at him curiously and wondered if he was. 

"Yoongi hyung," he greeted as he tried to force a smile, "I was just about to-" 

"Save it," he snapped, "I have half the army out looking for you, ya know," he turned his fury to you much to your surprise as he added "both of you." 

Your mouth fell open, shocked by the confusion apparent on your face as he continued, "Do I need to babysit both of you, because believe it or not, she's taking up a lot of my time. I really can't handle you getting flakey on me Jungkook, we need to know that you're safe," 

Jungkook looked down as he lectured, murmuring a small apology. 

"And you" Yoongi turned to you, "That goes for you too, the Black Tips are still on your tail, I can't do much for you if you go running off,"

"Hyung," Jungkook hissed. "Not now, please." 

Yoongi blinked at his younger in surprise, turning to you and making a point to really look at you, and take you in. Your red-rimmed eyes and splotchy face, the way you seemed to lean into Jungkook. He recognized that far off look in your eyes like you had to concentrate on being present in the moment, and Yoongi remembered the warning in Hoseok's earlier message when he told him you had run out.

"Yeah, okay, get her home and come straight back when you're done, we still need to talk," he said dismissively. None of your questions were answered, but you didn't resist as Jungkook put a hand on your back and guided you towards a nearby car. 

"Good night, princess," Yoongi called over his shoulder before closing the door behind him. Unlike with Jimin, you felt like you were being mocked when Yoongi called you that.

"Who was that, your brother, and why did he say he needs to babysit me?" you questioned as you both settled into the fine black vehicle the windows were so deeply tinted on the outside you wondered if it was safe to drive at night, but upon getting in the car, you noted that you could see through the windows clearly. 

Jungkook waited until after he put the key in the ignition and backed out into the driveway before he started talking."That's Yoongi hyung or Suga, he's head of surveillance for BTS. He was the one who sent out a message to go escort you home when J– Hobi Hyung told him you were upset and left his apartment so late. I was on my way in that direction when I ran across you on our street," he said, breaking at a stop sign and turning on the blinker.

You looked out the window as you took in everything he's told you, noting that you were stopped again by the light pole you had a panic attack under. Suga was one of the original members in Hoseok's story. You thought to yourself as you connected the dots. Your head still felt a little foggy as you recovered from the literal mental breakdown. The sudden change of lighting earlier had started to make your head throb. You were ready for bed.

"Hobi sent people to look for me?" was all you could manage, not entirely understanding the emotions stirring in your chest. 

"Well yeah, I mean, I was supposed to escort you home after work, and you kind changed plans, so we had to roll with them. I figured Hoseok would have taken you home after everything, so I didn't wait around. And then when Suga did send out the message I didn't notify them that I found you it was dumb on my part," he clarified. 

You leaned onto the console between the two of you, propping your cheek upon your hand in a way that squished your lips into a slight pout. Jungkook tried not to stiffen as you got more in his space. Peeking down at you through his peripherals he saw your brow furrow as you processed everything. 

"Why do you care?" you finally settled on asking as you still struggled to pinpoint why so many people would be worried about your safety.

Hoseok, you understood, to a certain extent, you even understood why he called in the favor. He knew your patterns and signs, you were probably shouting you were about to have an attack with your body language as you walked out the door. He knew he could never comfort you, not when he was the trigger. What you didn't understand was why BTS would listen.

"Because you're still not safe, and BTS took responsibility for your safety when I did," Jungkook said, simply turning to look at you as he stopped at a red light. 

If you were in the right state of mind, such a comment would have triggered an immediate fight. You had been on your own for far too many years to suddenly need a whole gaggle of men to tend to you as if you were some helpless girl. You were a grown-ass woman. But you weren't yourself as you searched for a response in the fog of your mind. 

"You're not responsible for anything about me?" you said softly as you shifted to rest your hand on your chin. 

"Y/n what all did Hoseok hyung tell you?" Jungkook asked, confused, you weren't rejecting his protection, you just seemed oblivious. He assumed the cat was out of the back as soon as you learned what BTS was, who they were concerning you. 

"Just how he joined BTS as how he ya know," you stuck your pointer finger and thumb in the air making soft 'pew pew' sounds. You couldn't bring yourself to talk seriously about the subject. Too much of this night had been severe for your liking. 

"Y/n, you saved my life last week," Jungkook said, trying to look in your eyes and convey all his gratitude. You shifted under his stare.

"I wouldn't call it that," you murmured, turning away, "The lights green," you added flatly trying to turn his attention from you. He ignored you and placed a warm hand over yours. 

"I would, and because of that, I and all of BTS owe you a life debt. We want to protect you as best as we can, especially since you're not totally safe from the guys you saved me from," he emphasized. 

You looked up at him owlishly as you thought over everything he said. But whatever you were going to say died on your lips as a car honked its horn behind you. You both jumped startled, and the intensity of the moment evaporated slightly. 

After a few moments of silence, you decided he didn't require a response. You can't imagine you would give a correct one anyways. You looked down at your hand, his larger one still resting atop your own and turned your wrist quickly and intertwining your fingers.

You rode in silence the rest of the way home, and you were fighting your eyelids as you pulled up to your complex. 

Jungkook wondered if you always fell asleep in the car even with dangerous men. He wondered if that's why he never sees you take the bus at night.

"You really should consider living somewhere safer," Jungkook muttered under his breath as he shut off the engine.

You bit your tongue holding in several comments and gave a noncommittal 'mmm' as you unbuckled and stepped out the car to see he planned to walk you to your door again. 

You grew embarrassed as you climbed the stairs and scrambled to think of parting words dwelling on everything Jungkook had done for you that night, "Thank you," you finally forced yourself to say. Jungkook looked down at you as you came to a halt in front of your door. "For earlier, with the crying and the counting," you offered awkwardly your eyes looking everywhere but his as you breached the sensitive topic. 

"Oh, it wasn't a problem, really. I'm glad I could help" he laughed nervously, and you smiled, reaching for his hand before he could bring it to the back of his head, a nervous habit you were quickly picking up on him having. 

"I'm serious Jungkook, a lot of people freak out and make the situation much worse for me, and I get it seeing someone crying like that it's never an easy thing to react to, but you did—" you hesitated as you searched for the right words, "You were good, comforting." 

You didn't give yourself time to question it as you stood on your tiptoes, deciding to convey your gratitude in a way that your stuttering mouth wouldn't botch, and grazed a small peck aiming for his cheek. Unfortunately, the height difference and your own lack of balance had you landing more on his jawline. Jungkook gasped only slightly at the feeling of your soft lips on his jaw, the heat of your body radiating off of you in your nearness. You smiled at him again as you turned towards the door to unlock it. 

"Haha yeah, happy to hear that," he responded, his voice crawling in pitch as he ordered his heart to beat, and you gave him another warm smile as you pushed open your door. 

"Good night, Jungkook."

"Good night, Ella." 

Jungkook's face split into a grin as you closed the door, a hand reaching for his jaw and pressing against where you kissed him as if it would simulate the feeling. His steps seemed to bounce as he made his way down the concrete stairs and back to his car.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading please tell me what you think! Your comments make me eager to write more :)

Pt.5 ->

#bts fic #jungkook x reader #bts mafia au #btsghostie #bangtanhq #btsbookclub #btsguild #bangtanscenery #bts gang au #gangster jungkook #gangster yoongi #gangaster taehyung #gangster hoseok #jungkook au #bestfriend hoseok #no harm list #crazy4myself fic #drug dealer teahyung #jungkook fluff

[internalsealpanic]

Fabulous Friday Evenings

Summary: You were having a really bad day.  Conner decides to help cheer you up and make sure your drunk ass doesn’t face plant on the side walk.

masterlist 

word count:  2,652

a/n: Special thanks to @anothertimdrakestan for helping with the ending and helping with editing! Love you, Elle!

warnings: alcohol and swearing and author does not know how alcohol works.  No one is under the drinking age. This may benefit from more editing. 

"Mosht people are jusht the careful scaffolding of complexshesh," you slurred, your face red, head half buried in your arms, and golden ear cuffs winking under the dim bar lights.

"You somehow still sound like a fucking nerd even you're when drunk," Conner laughed throwing his head back, handsome face stretched with a cheeky smile.  "You look like a mess," he said softly, reaching out for your cheek.

"Fuhk you! Not eberyone can be born too pretty for their own guhd- how did yah evehn know I was here? It was Tim wasn't it! "

"Good guess buuuut it was actually Bart" Conner explained casually taking a seat next to you as you lifted your head momentarily before plopping it back down to stare at the amber gloss of the drink. The light from the ceiling seemed to dance so elegantly in your eyes even as you wrinkled your brows. "That rat," you cursed miserably into your arm. 

Across from you, a pretty brunette shot you two a wink and without looking you could tell Conner flirted in kind. Normally, you'd have the audacity to steal the girl's attention away before Conner could even make a proper move but tonight you were in absolutely no mood to be charming. In fact, you were sloshed. You didn't know whether it was the fourth or fifth drink that did it but there you were sitting next to one of the most attractive people he knew with your makeup smeared and  eyes still swollen and puffy. You kind of just want a portal to open up and swallow you.

 The brunette made a motion to her friends which indicated that she was gonna try her luck and you wished her the best of luck. You bit your soft lips before pressing them into a pout. It took everything in Conner not to kiss you on the spot. Be the responsible one they said. It would be fun, they said. 

"We should go. You're-"

"Have fun," you said, patting him on the shoulder, cutting him off curtly; placing some cash on the bar before leaving. The buxom brunette approached Conner placing a hand on the shoulder you’d just touched moments before. He didn’t seem to notice her, his mind still lingering on the warmth of your hand.  Before she can say anything, he pivots and runs towards you .

The casual slump in your shoulders in place of your usual elegance was a pretty good indication that you would probably fall in a gutter before you got home. Conner highly doubted  you could see straight. 

"I can’t believe Roz let you get this sloshed without checking on you," He joked bringing one of your arms over his shoulder and slinging his own arm around you for balance. You walked like a newborn horse. It was incredibly embarrassing and you wanted to die. Conner, on the other hand, just found it incredibly hilarious.

 "She's out getting into her own brand of sloshed at a bachelorette party,"

"Huh. Didn't know she was the wedding type. Thought she hated going to those,"

"She's the stripper," You deadpanned, sounding abnormally sober.  With that Conner let out a genuinely hearty laugh. You would trade all the martinis, dackories, and margaritas in the world just to get drunk on that laugh. 

"That reminds me," Conner drawled, adjusting his hold feeling just how shaky you were from the late October Metropolis weather pressing you closer to his warm body. You kind of wanted to melt into his side but you had too much pride. "Bart never said why you were out here getting shit faced," You frowned at him but couldn't really muster any sharpness into your expression.

 There were lots of reasons to get 'shit faced' even in shiny Metropolis. You twitched your nose and mouth side to side gathering the makings of a sentence. Where do you even start? Your little sister got suspended, your mother (who somehow found out you were in Metropolis) is either demanding money or for you to drop everything to go back home to help around the house (translation: help out with the bills while babysitting your siblings), Bats and some other league members were on your ass for the last mission (probably the only thing on this list you found reasonable),  this morning, you got fired from your library job so they could hire Marco's girlfriend (who is in fact a perfectly nice person which means you can't really hate her), or the dozens of little annoyances such as Bart not being able to keep his trap shut. 

"This week was just a little much," 

A long moment of silence passes between you. Uncharacteristic for Conner but it was cute that he thought silence would make you fess up. 

"You know I could have gone home on my own. That brunette looked like she was up for a good time," 

"Yeah right. Also you're welcome." 

"You're right. Thank you for getting blue balled this fine evening to escort me" you didn't want to be prickly but Conner was being too nice and that made your skin crawl. Why couldn’t he be mean to you right now like a normal person? 

"First off, she wasn't even my type-" You raised a brow. 

"Kon, her tits were the size of Jupiter-" 

"Did you really  just say 'tits'?" 

You threw him a scowl clearly sobering up from irritation.

"Shut up. Point iiiis, you didn't have to-"

"You just said-"

"Oh for the love of- yes, I said tits. Speaking of which you should be staring at some instead of having to lug my sorry ass around on this fabulous Friday evening."  Your hand fluttering, gesturing vaguely in the air.

"Eh. There'll be other Fridays" Kon shrugged.  Pulling you closer and some selfish part of you felt relieved. 

----------

Much to your surprise (you really ought not to be), Roz wasn't home yet which meant you had to dig out the keys from the secret hiding spot- another hassle. You reached out peeling a hilariously well concealed hole in the wall and fished out the set of jingling keys. Conner looked like he was between amusement and bewilderment. Good enough.  At least, this stopped Conner's 30 minute TED Talk about the new 70s sitcom he'd found. 

You two entered the shoe box apartment clumsily thanks to your disastrous limbs. 

You blew out a breath and muttered a thanks as Conner helped you plop onto the couch.  Though, it was more like gravity decided to magnetize your body to the couch and Conner just let it happen. 

You shut his eyes for a moment wrapping a ragged blanket around you. You made a mental note to raid the thrift store for a new one. Preferably one void of holes. 

"So what's up and don't you dare say it was nothing. I've never seen you this hammered before," He said handing you a mug of steaming hot chocolate. 

"Does it occur to you that I might get hammered like this often and you might just not see it? Who knows maybe I'm actually a functional alcoholic?" 

"Ok, first off, you are barely functional. Second, that might be your weakest deflection yet.  Try again," 

"Ok... did it occur-" 

"I didn't mean it lite- just tell me what happened. Everyone's worried," 

You stared at the steam rising from the fresh cup of cocoa. It was none of Conner's business. It was no one’s business.  Your friends were too goddamn nice. Blowing out another breath, you said "You might wanna sit down too," 

Conner takes his own mug of hot cocoa and sits next to you because for some reason eye contact made you a better liar and Conner for all his dumb decisions wasn't gonna let  you off the hook that easily.  You shifted uncomfortably and muttered about either Cassie or Roz ratting you out. He assumed it was the eye contact thing. Conner felt a little offended. He might not be Tim but he’s smart enough to figure it out on his own. Despite his hurt feelings and bruised ego, he decided to table that and focus on the current issue or, likely, issues.

 "Do you want it in alphabetical order?" 

"Please tell me you can actually do that," Conner teased with a wide grin. You couldn’t fight off a smile forming on your face. "Sadly, I am not Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. My brain cells work like a normal person's,"

"Didn't you die?" 

"Death only fixes stupid when you stay dead. You've seen Red Hood and whichever other Ex-Robin has been to the pearly gates,"

"You say that as if Jason wouldn't tell the big man to fuck off," 

You blinked and turned your head up to the ceiling. "Ok that's true," You conceded, your mouth twitching rapidly from side to side making you look like an exasperated rabbit.  Cute.

"So what's up?" 

 All the good mood from the past few minutes dissipated in an instant. You looked down solemnly at the still steaming mug. You were silent for what felt like an eternity. 

 "It's family- Immediate.  And the source of all evil-"  

 "Lex Corp?" 

You snorted a shy tired smile cracked across your face.  You shook your head. Those little gestures just make Conner feel a little warmer. You, on the other hand, cursed at how easily Conner could make you laugh. You were  supposed to be sad damn it. 

"Money," Conner knew immediate family was always a sore spot for you. No one knew the specifics except Roz but that was inevitable when you're cousins.  Money was also a sore spot and based on your near dead tone. You’ve either lost a lot of it or you’re in a tight spot but not ready to elaborate. 

"Wanna try buying a lottery ticket?"

"What?"

"Who knows you might get lucky?" 

"You could have gotten lucky you if you-" 

"Are you seriously gonna keep bringing that up?" 

"Yes, most likely. Depends," 

"On what?!" 

"On whether I can think of something funnier to give you shit about or if you can convince me-whatever the fuck you're thinking of doing stop!"Conner's cheeky grin did not disappear nor did the faint flush on your cheeks. 

"I wasn't thinking of anything, you sick pervert" he laughed. You really should have been exasperated with Conner. You tried damn it. You looked at him skeptically before violently letting his head rest on Conner’s shoulder causing the other boy to fall over. 

"Aaaaaaawwwww babe , if you wanted to cuddle you could have just said so," 

You wanted to. In fact,  both of you wanted to. But unfortunately neither of you were martian and neither of you was willing to say jack.  You closed your eyes trying to pretend Conner wasn't a little shit. Conner radiated too much smug for that though. 

"Shut up," You mumbled into Conner's shoulder already feeling sleep pull him under. You clung to him. Maybe just for tonight you can indulge in this. Just for a little while you can cling to Conner's warmth. Maybe in the morning your head will ache too much to remember this. Waking up alone wouldn't be too painful then. Hopefully. 

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

You woke up feeling like a troop of Can Caning hippos decided to host a live performance all over your head. You sighed remembering that you had in fact run out of Aspirin just days before so you decided on just lying there and praying that Roz also needed Aspirin and  had more energy to run to the store. 

You settled in nuzzling in to the warm- 

Wait. It was October. 

Nothing in the apartment should be warm. 

NOTHING. 

Then, you heard it.  A LOUD snore. It honestly sounded more like the roar of an engine than anything.  Everything else followed. The slow rising and falling of the chest beneath you, the press of stubble against your forehead, and the strong arms loosely wrapped around you. 

Yeah. You died again. Yeah. You finally went to heaven. Yup. You were ok with that. You were  definitely 100% A Ok with this if this was heaven. Being held tenderly by the guy you liked while you got a good night’s sleep was definitely heaven. God, you were such a sap.  

How the hell you missed all of that baffled you.

 Oh wait. Dancing hippos. Fuck. 

Your head felt like it was threatening to crack open but somehow you honestly could not mind even if you tried. You were  laying on top of a hot (literally and metaphorically) guy mutually cuddling. You nuzzled into the junction between Conner’s neck and shoulder in an attempt to steal more warmth. Sure, you were probably gonna go deaf from the snoring. Sure, you were definitely irritated by the stubble pressed against your face. And sure, you would probably die of embarrassment once Conner woke up. You could worry about all that later. All you could think about was how nicely your arms fit around Conner’s neck and how Conner’s arms wrap around you a little tighter in return. 

Click. 

Click. 

You could hear the distinct sound of your own camera shutter. Each sound chipped away at your peace of mind. You lifted your head only to see Roz holding your camera. 

TAKING PICTURES. 

Your cousin was nothing if not a petty opportunist. 

“I would tell you to get a room buuuut the only bedroom iiiiis preeeeeeetty occupied,” Roz drawled  smugly way too pleased with herself. You opened his mouth to ask but you’d already made the mistake of walking in on Roz and a guest once and you were  pretty sure you needed more therapy for that than you did for your murder. You just sighed as Roz took another picture.

“Come on, (y/n), smile a little,”

“I’m not smiling for your blackmail material,”

Roz gasped trying to sound scandalized. She failed, only sounding amused beyond belief. “It’s only blackmail if you’re ashamed of it. Personally, I think you’re scoring big time,”

“Roz please just fuck off before you wake him up,”

“Too fuckin’ late for that. He’s been awake for awhile,” 

You could  feel Conner smiling into your hair and his arms wrap around you  a little tighter. You tried to straighten up. To tower over him. To look intimidating. 

But…. you couldn’t. You were kind of trapped because, yanno,  super strength.

 You were seething and threw a scowl at Conner who only chuckled at you in response.  

“You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?” You snarled, clearly exasperated and feeling the hippos start their encore performance. 

“ Mmmmmm, it depends,” Nope. The hippos did not only come back for an encore. They brought friends. Based on the absolutely smug look on Conner’s face, you were in for an entire parade. 

You let out a breath not sure if you wanted to play this game but not really seeing any other options.  “On what?“

Conner paused and hummed and hummed and hummed some more as if he was actually thinking but you knew from the crook of his lips that he had this planned out. Maybe not this exact scenario but something close“Go out on a date with me,”

You blinked then rolled your eyes theatrically enough that your head rolled along with it.   “And be seen with you in public?” You teased, an almost sheepish smile tugging at your features.

Yeah, Conner wasn’t exactly expecting you to say yes.

 “Yeah. Sure. Why not?” You said playing it off as casually as possible but you couldn’t help but mirror the absolutely goofy grin plastered on Conner’s face.  His happiness was infectious. You felt weightless. It was probably the fact that you were floating with him but you were pretty sure you were just on cloud nine. You were doomed. Definitely, inevitable, indubitably doomed. Even though everything has been shit up to now. The happiness radiating off of Conner was enough to make everything feel a little better.  

Thank you so much for reading!

tag list: 

@idkmanicantenglish

@batarella (I thought you might like it?)

#conner kent x reader #conner kent #conner kent imagine #My writing #dc fanfiction #DC comics #kon el x reader #kon el imagine

[readyplayerhann]

King of the World.

Starring... Bang Chan & Y/N Y/L/N

Mentions... other Stray Kids

Warnings: threats of violence, prostitution, and death. explicit language

Universe: mafia!bang chan, gang!bang chan, mob!bang chan

Word Count: 1.5 K

Last week, you stole from gangster Bang Chan unknowingly. This week, he has came to your house twice, this time coming with a favor to ask.

...

"Hello, princess." Chan's voice greeted you as soon as you stepped into your dimly lit home. You  remembered that you turned off your lights before going to work so the sight of the lights when you pulled up to your house in your beat up car caused dread to flood your system, stilling the movements of your body.

You could've driven away, chosen to postpone the inevitable, avoid Chan, but you knew the man would just chase after you. Whatever patient feelings he had toward you vanishing and leaving him with a bitter taste in his mouth and a finger on the trigger. You wanted to avoid trigger happy Bang.

You don't say anything for a few moments, just shrugging your bag off, your jacket following suit. As you moved, your brain restricted most of your body's motion, moving slowly during your tasks. You could sense the heat of the gang banger's gaze on your back, but you take your time trying to collect yourself, not wanting him to see you sweat. That decision could prove faulty if the intruder in your outside became impatient. Still, you slowed yourself as you took off the over-garment.

"What? You're not going to greet me?" He taunted in a raspy deep-tone. You caught rustling over your shoulder as he moved him his seat in your dining room. The chair scrapped across the  hardwood of your floor as he shoved the seat into place. You cringed at the sound before tensing up against your command as he sauntered closer.

"And you said I'm the one who doesn't have manners." He goaded before a light scoff drawled from his mouth, his body coming to invade your space from behind. Your body locked immediately, your heart rattling away in your chest as he helped you escape the confines of your jacket. He handed the fabric with such care that the juxtaposition of that and him being a harden criminal you knew him to be was apparent. Rugged, scarred fingers grazed your arm, slowly, gently before stopping on your upper arms before dropping to his side. You straightened, back becoming stiff which only pressed you closer to Chan.

If Chan noticed your reaction he doesn't say anything, he just pulled away taking your jacket along with him and throwing it on top of your tiny dining table. It grazed the table top before falling uselessly to the floor.

You turned completely towards him, no more hiding yourself away.

"Minho," His voice was stern as he spoke to the man unknown to you. You hadn't even noticed him when you walked in. He turned to the other man standing in the corner, silently, his face a mask devoid of any emotions, his eyes black and soulless, "Go take a walk. I want to talk to princess alone for a second."

The man made a grunt of agreement, his dark eyes trailing over your frame as he walked pass you. He flashed you a quick smile, a bloodied and cunning one if you had to describe it. It's only true purpose was to draw out the fear within it's desired victim and it worked, dragging the dead corpse that was once your carefully hidden fear out for them both to see. You breathe caught in your throat and you have to fight to breath again.

The male closest to you leaned forward again, allowing his lips to press against the shell of your ear. You wanted to pull back knowing it was futile, but you tried anyways but Chan caged you in against a nearby counter with his face so close, his breath ghosting over your lips.

Chan had a naturally kind face, soft eyes that might've held the world if he wasn't burned by it and a gentle smile if he allowed himself to do so. The dimples of his cheeks sat there like the perfect imperfection they were. If you both were in a different situation, where you didn't owe him money and he wasn't willing to kill you to get it back, you might've been into his advances. Or, rather his close proximity.

You turned away, thinking your eyes lingered too long on the face of the home invader.

"Look at me." Chan ordered, one his hands coming to grasp at your jaw to force you to meet his eyes. His hands are rough as he forced you to look at him and you jostled in his touch. His eyes pierce yours as you're made to take him in. Twinges of anger swirl in his dark brown, almost black eyes in the night and you shivered at the reach it has on your body.

Even with your head positioned to look at him, your eyes bounced everywhere except for the man before you. Upon your avoidance of the man, you noticed the money stacked high over your table, the one with the fallen jacket beside it. The money that you stole. He had found it or what was left of it. You wouldn't expect anything less from someone who had broken into your house twice.

"Oh," He grinned, following your line of sight to catch a glimpse of the paper bills stacked neatly, "You see the money? You see I counted it, but it's a little short. Like a hundred grand short." Chan turned back to you, dropping his hand from your face and returning to cage you in, "Have you figured out how you're going to get my money back, princess?"

"I-I-" It's the first time you try to speak and you realize immediately how fucking dry your throat his. Chan's lips twitched slightly at your hesitance and offered a mockingly encouraging brow, "I'm t-taking extra shifts at work. I'll get you your money, I just need time."

"Something tells me it'll be a while before you get that hundred grand from your job." He remarked, pulling away from you and walking towards the dining table. He took in your dingy, broken down, one story home, a note of distaste in his eyes as he inspected the place. It was rugged, yes, but it was one of the only places you could afford that was decently away from major crime hot spots. Turns out that didn't matter because crime fucking showed up anyways.

The absence of his presence allowed you to breathe for a moment, before a glint of metal  on Chan's hip caught your eyes.

"You know," Chan drawled quietly, taking his seat at the head of the table like he was the king of the world. He flicked his eyes in your direction as he reached for his hip, revealing a gun dipped in sterling silver and your heart dropped to your stomach, "I usually don't do house calls. I would normally leave that for to the others. Minho for example should've been the one to visit you and your partners maybe along with Hyunjin or Changbin, but when I heard it was a single person who stole half a million bucks from me, I just had to see the fucker who was confident enough - no stupid enough to steal from me."

"Imagine my surprise when I'm told a suburban rat with no priors was bold enough to take from me."

"I needed the money." It was all you can say. It's the truth, but it didn't mean jack shit to the man in front of you. Chan's face remained unimpressed, plump lips thinning into a line as he regarded you.

"Desperation is a funny thing, princess. It can be in response to many events. Heartbreak, finical standing, the need to succeed but the result is always the same. Selling yourself. Whether that be your mind, body or soul. Something has to be exchanged for your errors to right themselves." Chan took his eyes away from you for a moment, brown eyes dragging across the paper in front of him, "Now which one are you willing to sell?" His brow was peaked again, no longer taunting, just plain questioning. It still managed to raise a bit of stress within you.

You spluttered, lips closing and opening as you try to gauge his question with a heavy heart. Your eyebrows furrowed as you stare back at the man eyeing you.

"Y'know, some are lucky enough to end up dead from the their desperate attempts to salvage their lives. Others in prisons and a few manage to come out unscathed only to realizing the mirror will remind them of the scars of their past. But you?" He left out a harsh laugh, dark eyes shining, in the pale moonlight seeping in, embracing your shivering body, "You got the worst fate of all. You're indebted to me."

Chan moved to his feet, swiftly gathering himself and calling for Minho. He stepped forward and you take a step back. His lips curled into a pleasantly cunning smirk at your frighten features.

"There's a shipment coming in at the doc five, downtown. I need you to be there at eleven pm to pick it up and drop it off as this location." He pulled a card with his chicken scratch on it and slide it in front of your face, giving your eyes a break from staring at the hauntingly handsome man in front of you.

Chan shoved the card into your hand, impatient as you just stared at him in disbelief. He turned to leave.

He paused to call your name, "And Y/N?"

"Y-yes?"

"You die the moment you're late. Don't disappointment me , princess."

#stray kids #stray kids angst #stray kids au #bang chan #bang chan au #kpop #kpop au

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Killan Josta: Make Wish

Killan Josta, World’s Saddest Boy, gets... a moment with a rabbit. Killan exists in @wildfaewhump‘s Iesin and Talvos universe!

CW: Referenced beatings/whipping, ill-treatment, debt-slavery, referenced animal death although none occurs during the piece

Tagging @quirkykayleetam who asked to be tagged for Killan, plus @finder-of-rings, @burtlederp, and @astrobly who asked to be tagged for ‘everything’

Killan couldn’t tell if the rabbit looked scared, or just… resigned. Either way, he knew the feeling.

The poor thing had stepped right into the little trap that Vanya had built for it, boiled and soaked wood to get it soft and pliable and then bent it into a kind of box that resembled all the bushes around it, especially when he’d covered it with some leaves and brush. A bit of bait right in the middle, and then you wait for something to creep in for a bite.

Then, crash! The little door he’d made fell down, trapping the rabbit inside. It had thrashed around for a while, but it was quiet now. Feet pulled close, chest puffed a little bit, ears flat against its head laying against its own back. Thin like wild rabbits are, but not too thin. 

Vanya had a whole row, six or seven cages just like this one. The last round of traps had gotten them a fox - which had bitten Killan when he tried to feed it and good riddance to bad rubbish as far as he was concerned, foxes were nothing but bad luck anyway - and three rabbits. The other traps had come up empty, but Beron and Ren had brought down three deer between them in the time they’d spent in these woods, caught two river-eaters, plus six of what Beron called ‘fur-rats’ that made poor meat but their fur meant something enough to the rich that they could eat for a week (well, everyone else could) on a single sale.

Plus, Tinch had caught a real living hawk with a reddish tail and a mean beak, and meant to teach it to fetch. Their haul to bring into town would be a good one.

Ren would sell the hides and fur separate from the meat, he claimed to know the tanner in the next town, could get a good price for them. Fur-rats made poor meat but they knew well enough that Killan would eat anything he was given, too hungry to care what it tasted like at the end of the day, so they’d smoked and dried that, too, to pack away with some fat and crushed-up berries and seeds. 

He was chewing idly on a bit of the foul-tasting nastiness - the kind made from deer meat was good, this tasted like mud fed on poison - while he fed the rabbits in their cages and found his gaze caught by the last one. 

It had big liquidy eyes, one on either side of its head, so it could only really look at him with one or the other. 

Prey eyes, Beron called them. He’d sat Killan down once and shown him that the foxes had eyes both to the front, like people do - and the rabbits had one on either side. Hunters like us, like wolves - we see to the front, because we focus on what we’re going to bring down. Prey like that has to see every which way so they see us coming.

Might be nice to have an eye on either side. Killan might get fewer surprises, then.

Its fur was a kind of grayish-brownish-reddish mix, the exact shade of a sun-dappled grassy meadow. It could use those hind legs to run and jump and hide, faster than Killan could ever run. Its little nose twitched in his direction and he wrinkled his nose back at it, grinning around the food in his mouth. At least they mixed berries in - now and then a bite was nothing but sweet. It made the rest of the bitterness easier to handle.

“What do I smell like, bun-bun? Huh?” The rabbit didn’t answer, of course, but Killan watched with surprise as it shifted slightly closer to him, an oddly thoughtful look on its fuzzy little face. “Do I smell like prey, too? Or like wolves? I’m not like them, I promise.” 

The rabbit’s nose kept twitching, and Killan leaned in closer, moving down into a crouch so he was eye-level with the cage where it sat stacked on top of another one. Somewhere behind him, the men who owned his life were laughing and joking as they set up their camp for the night, for once giving Killan a little rest instead of making him do it all himself.

Ren had felt bad about the fox bite, currently hidden under bandages wrapped around Killan’s left wrist. I’m not a cruel man, Matti, Ren had said, and Killan hadn’t argued with him. Hadn’t pointed at the scars on his back and his legs and his front, or the little scar on his head from the first week. He could hide that one with his hair, mostly.

He hadn’t even mentioned how cruel it was to take someone’s name away, so almost three years on he had to remind himself of what his name was every single day, had to wake up whispering I’m Killan Josta, I’m Killan Josta, I’m Killan Josta as he got more and more afraid he’d become Matthias, not just answer to it.

He’d only nodded, and tried not to scratch at the itches under the bandage, and Ren had given him the night off, then. Didn’t even have to cook, it was Beron chopping away with his big heavy knife, cleaving meat from bone to toss into the stew. He would’ve felt nice about that if it didn’t mean Killan probably wouldn’t get to eat tonight.

Killan shifted, blocking the rabbit’s view of the cooking-fire, not that it mattered all that much if it saw what had happened to another rabbit it probably never knew. Who even knew if a rabbit could even see so far?

It shifted closer then. And closer again.

They were so close Killan’s eyes crossed a little trying to look at it. He stuck a finger into the trap and it held perfectly still as he traced a fingertip over the fine soft fur at the top of its head, the silken feeling of its long flat ears. He expected it to start shivering - he’d seen shaky little scared rabbits right before their necks were wrung.

This one didn’t shake. It looked at him calmly, like it knew him. It looked at him like, hello, you belong out there with us, not here with them.

Killan bit down on his lower lip, then winced as that pressed on a busted spot from the last thing he’d messed up. “I wish I was out there with you,” he whispered, leaning in close. “I wish I was in the woods somewhere. I wish I could go destroy all their traps instead of helping build them. I promise.”

“Wish?”

Killan stiffened, looking up and blinking. “What?”

The others were busy, no one even heard Killan speak, and none of them had heard it - a hissing sibilant whisper-sound, that seemed to be as much inside his mind as outside it. He turned to look over his shoulder, seeing nothing around their little campsite but the trees, looming eerily overhead at the sun went down. 

“Make wish.”

Killan slowly turned back to stare at the rabbit, which held itself so perfectly still under Killan’s petting fingertips. He leaned forward, as close as he could get, until his forehead rubbed up against the twisted wood. The rabbit leaned slowly forward too, and Killan caught his breath as its soft, cool nose brushed, with little twitches, against his own.

“Pretty,” The voice said. “Pretty human boy.”

Killan had been living for years with Beron’s stories of nature magic and the dangers of the mountains and the monsters who lived there. He’d been raised on his own mam’s stories of wild women who could change shape and sneak into bad childrens’ houses and steal them from their beds. But he was grown now, or as good as, and he had no fear of those stories.

Right?

“Are you the one talking to me?” Killan whispered to the rabbit, which nudged forward against him again with its little twitching nose. Killan held his breath as the rabbit pushed its head up into his two fingers pressed to its soft ears, which no wild rabbit had ever done that he knew of. “Do you want me to make a wish?”

“Make wish, pretty human.”

Killan smiled - small so the others wouldn’t see, but there all the same. He leaned in as close as he could get, lost in the way the rabbit looked at him so calmly, so sure of itself even though it was trapped in a cage, to have its neck wrung to make a good dinner soon enough, just like the other one that Beron was tossing into the stew while singing to himself, just a dozen or so feet away. 

“I wish that you would be free,” Killan said, as low as he could speak and still be audible. “You don’t deserve to be soup.”

The rabbit didn’t speak to him again, but it did nuzzle up against him once more, to Killan’s delight. 

Then Beron yelled at him to stop being lazy and do some damn work for once in his life, and Killan pushed himself up on aching legs to stumble over and help Beron put together the bit of ground-up dried treenuts and water and salt for the dumplings to cook on top of the soup.

They’d given him the day off work, but if you don’t work you don’t eat, so Killan ate the bit of treenut-bread they’d given him out of mercy and watched them with their bowls of rabbit stew jealously from his bedroll, stomach growling, and determined himself to work even harder to get more food tomorrow.

He was so hungry it took forever to get to sleep, the fire banked and Ren and Vanya on first watch, and he only got a couple of hours before it was his turn to sit up with Beron, who was in a foul mood. Bad dreams, he said.

Killan mostly didn’t dream any longer - sleep was too precious to waste on dreaming.

Killan took his ill-tempered ‘jokes’ in silence and thanked him with real gratitude when Beron got tired of that fucking kicked-dog look like we don’t take better care of you than a lazy arse deserves and gave him more of the fur-rat and berry bars to eat.

Killan made it through half of the bar and then looked up, into the dark woods that pressed close around them. The horses were restless tonight, ears flat against their heads and shifting until their ropes were pulled tight from the trees, but they never liked the woods much so that wasn’t unusual. 

The animals in their cages were restless, too, shivery little rabbits and and the fur rats clawing at the edges of their cages.

Killan checked on his favorite rabbit - it was perfectly still, but alert, head head and neck stretched, looking away from Killan entirely. When he turned around to follow the direction of its gaze, he could have sworn he could the glint of yellow eyes watching him in the dark.

He should have been afraid, but he wasn’t.

Instead, Killan stood up, walked to the edge of what little light the fire still gave off, and set the uneaten half of the bar down. A gift for-... for the woods, maybe, they’d taken better care of him than any person ever did, anyway.

His watch ended and Killan fell asleep more quickly with the heavy weight of at least some food in his stomach. He curled in his bedroll as small as he could make himself, and he did not dream.

When he woke up the next day, to Beron’s shouting and Ren kicking him awake gasping for air and scrambling to stand, one of the cages had been busted open. Only one cage, all the others still held the trapped animals shaking and shivering. But Killan’s favorite, the rabbit that had kissed him the day before and been so still, was gone.

So was the half-bar of food he’d left at the edge of the camp.

Killan’s eyes were wide as saucers as he stared at the wood twisted back out of shape or broken, somehow done in silence while they slept, never waking them at all. 

He could have sworn he heard a kind of laughter whispering through the trees above his head.

“Good wish.”

#whump #setup for whump at least #wildfaewhump's world #killan is babey and saddest boy #whump oc #fantasy whump #implications and foreshadowing #referenced animal death #referenced beatings #referenced bites #references wounds #wounds tw #bite wound #debt slavery #slave whump #fantasy setting #captivity #cages #hurt/comfort #sort of #comf? of a sort? #comf before the storm

[phcking-detective]

Happiness is a Jealous Android

The FBI are the British of the law enforcement world, Gavin thinks sourly as he glares at the new addition "consulting" on his goddamn case. Snobby fucking cunts who think their own shit doesn't stink.

He can't do anything but be mad about it either. There's a new virus making androids overheat, and they don't know shit about how it works.

They could if Nines caught an android in the middle of it, but it works so fast, they haven't been able to grab one yet. He could just use whatever program he has meant to hack in and delete another android's code—meant for eradicating deviancy—and delete the virus instead.

"Yes, but just imagine, if the code is—" the fancy FBI computer geek says.

Nines interrupts. "For the fifth time, I cannot."

"But you understand the concept!" FBI geek throws up his hands. "Just apply it to—"

Gavin rolls his eyes. The whole fucking point of Nines is that he can't! He's not ever supposed to have new ideas, and he thinks too literally for that shit anyway.

Nines already told them the most efficient method of overheating an android three days ago, but whatever the virus does, it isn't that. And Nines can't think of anything less efficient—he can barely understand the concept of thinking less efficiently.

So they've brought in a human just smart enough to be stupid for him.

If only someone would tell this asshole that's what his job is. Just be stupid enough to think of something that works through sheer idiot accident—that's human creativity, baby!

When the GJ500 assigned to act as the FBI geek's "tactical support"—glorified bodyguard/babysitter special combo—meets Gavin's eyes and jerks his head toward the back door, Gavin can't get out of the bullpen and into the back alley for a smoke break fast enough.

"Need a light?" Nate asks, already pulling out his own pack.

Gavin's not really sure why an android needs to smoke, but he's also not sure where his ADHD ass has left his own lighter this time, so he nods and leans forward.

One thing he is sure of is how Nate checks him out while sparking the end of his cigarette. He's cruised enough to know that look, android or not.

But he settles back against the opposite nod with only a grunt of thanks. Him and Nines maybe sort of have a thing and they maybe sort of haven't talked about it. Anyway, he's only made the exception about shitting where he eats—or in this case, fucking where he works—because Nines is such an uptight, private, introverted bastard, he knows not even Connor will be able to weasel any details out of him.

"Fucking geniuses, right?" Nate says after lighting his own cigarette.

He gives a surprisingly human scoff, and Gavin can't help but snort back in agreement. He's only gotten used to Nines and Connor—said fucking genius or the android version of those evil gossipy Southern ladies. And all the other androids in the precinct are still too scared of him for anything outside of short sentences, much less small talk.

So he's never really shot the shit with an android before, but hey. Brave new world and all.

"How'd you get stuck babysitting yours?" Gavin asks.

Nate groans. "I was suckered. Fucking …" He gestures with his own lit cigarette. "Bamboozled."

Gavin snickers and maybe checks him out a little too. "Like to see the guy who could bamboozle you."

Nate grins at him. "Well, I guess I have to admit your RK probably could, but outside of that …"

His grin opens wider, revealing sharp canines. Gavin swallows. Nines has them too of course, but they're like, metal sheaths that drop down from his gums to cover his "human" teeth. Very cool, but he only gets to see them on special occasions.

"But yeah." Nate drops the grin and sighs. "Honestly, I'm still kind of new. And I don't have any fucking, deep burning desire to be a free form poet or some shit. I just wanted to do what I'm good at, so the FBI called and I jumped."

Gavin raises his eyebrows. "And they stuck you with a babysitting job?"

Nate wrinkles his face up with clear disgust and disappointment. It's weird as hell. The only other android he's seen built like Nate is Nines, who wouldn't know a facial expression if someone carved a Joker smile into his chassis.

OK, well. Maybe that's not fair. Nines does have both disgust and disappointment on lock, but in a sterile sort of way. Like a scientist observing a failed experiment and Gavin's dick is the unlucky lab rat.

(Not that Gavin or his dick are complaining.)

"What about you?" Nate asks. "Got anything to complain about?"

Gavin huffs out smoke and flicks ash off the end of his cigarette. "Why do you care?"

Nate shrugs. "Maybe I'm just interested in life at the DPD. For no reason. Snow is always whiter on the other side and all."

He barks out a laugh. "It's Detroit. If you see any snow that's still white, that's just cocaine."

Nate snorts too, and the smoke is good, and maybe he could throw the guy a bone. He'd been thinking about a career change himself not too long ago—until he got partnered with Nines, and Fowler started actually noticing when he solved cases, and maybe having Nines help keep him on track meant he blew up less at his coworkers, meant that they stopped hating him so much, meant that he might have a real shot at a promotion now.

"Connor's usually the darling golden boy," he says between drags. "And Hank goes way back with Fowler, so yeah. They get all the good shit."

Nate makes a sympathetic noise.

"Our budget's shit and anytime we catch something really good, guess who swoops in and case steals?"

He gives Nate's FBI jacket a pointed look that totally doesn't involve also checking out his barrel of a chest. What the fuck do they make these military models out of anyway? His porn history?

"Sucks," Nate says. "Doesn't sound too different though. At least you actually get to work cases. The only shit I catch is all coding and hacking, and I'm not built for that any more than you could perform open heart surgery just 'cause you've got one."

"Oof," Gavin says in return.

He gets down to the filter and drops it, stubbing out the small ember with his boot. Nate's cigarette is still going strong, since he doesn't actually need to inhale and hasn't been sucking it down. Gavin's not sure what to do with his hands now, and he's still plenty stressed, so he just takes out another cigarette.

Nate takes his out of his mouth and holds it out. Gavin gratefully presses the end of his new smoke against it to light up again.

"I think they call this buttfucking," Nate says.

Gavin sputters out a surprised laugh. "Yeah, Brits call these a lot worse."

Nate shrugs. "Takes one to know one."

From the way he pulls his cigarette back and wraps his lips around it while maintaining full eye contact, he obviously knows a little something-something himself.

But then he switches to complaining about his partner's annoying little peculiarities—like how the man apparently hates cotton balls with some sort of weird fetishistic passion—and Gavin offers up how Nines refuses to ever end a sentence with a preposition, and it's just regular coworker bitching from there.

Although they do start taking smoke breaks together, at least once a day. It's nice having someone to bitch to, since Nines is so busy doing code shit Gavin can't even comprehend, and Tina's off with her android girlfriend, plus Hank and Connor, for some feel good android-human bonding news special or whatever.

And yeah, they flirt. But Gavin's a slut and Nines already knew that. The one time Nate asked him about getting a "lunch break," Gavin told him he doesn't fuck around on cases. Even if neither of them were any use right now, fucking a coworker is bad enough—Gavin strictly does not fuck at work, or even on lunch breaks if he's in the middle of a big case.

Nate drawled he had an impressive work ethic and left it at that.

And him and Nines still haven't talked about their thing, or how serious it is, or exclusive, or … at all, really. Nines is too busy. So.

It's not a big deal if he just, has a friend or whatever.

***

Gavin leans back against the wall and tries to light his smoke in the face of harsh Detroit winds. It keeps sputtering out. Maybe he should go back inside.

Hank and Connor are back, and that's stealing the spotlight from their case getting solved, but it's not like he had shit to do with that anyway.

He's not sulking about it.

Not FBI-genius-what's-his-face being all smug, or Nines still ignoring him to mind-talk to Connor even though the case is over and they could finally have some time to …

Shit. Hold hands? Gavin mentally sneers at himself. What they had going on before was probably just like, an experiment. Lots of androids trying out sex and dating right now.

Lots of times that he's handing over his heart to someone just looking for—

Tall, broad shoulders step in between him and the wind so the lighter finally sparks and catches long enough for him to light up. He takes a drag and looks up, ready to tell Nines it's about time he—

But it's Nate.

(Stupid.)

"Scene in there a little too much?" Nate asks.

Gavin tips his head back and exhales smoke without answering.

"Got a job offer," he continues. "In New York."

Gavin hums. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Lot nicer than fucking Detroit." Nate pauses. "Could use a partner though."

"What?" Gavin blinks and looks back at him. "Shit man. Like we're gonna run away together?"

Nate laughs. "Not that romantic, no. But you're being fucking wasted here—both as a cop and a, uhh …"

He stops and purposefully takes a long drag of his own cigarette. What the British call them. Like that's clever.

Gavin's the only one allowed to call himself slurs, but he does enjoy being verbally degraded, and this asshole is pushing right up against both of those lines. He's not really sure how mad he is about it, since Nate didn't actually say the word, but he settles for pissed because that's who he is as a person.

"Oh, fuck off," he sneers.

Nate smirks and it suddenly seems mean instead of sexy for the first time. "Like you're getting it any better from your RK? I bet he fucks like the machine he is."

Gavin doesn't deny it. Nines hasn't deviated and he doesn't care when people call him a machine anyway. And none of that is any of this asshole's business.

But Nate keeps going.

"Two weeks and I've never even seen him look at you," he says. "Y'know, look."

He drags his eyes over Gavin's body like he's mapping out all the places he plans to touch. Wants to touch. Nines assesses him, nags at him to eat or sleep or "hydrate" himself. Catalogues every minute detail about his appearance.

Sometimes he'll even look at Gavin like he's going to eat the human alive and analyze every single bite.

But his partner has never checked him out or anything. As far as Gavin knows, it's all mental for him when they fuck around. Just a way for him to have control over something in his life and put some of those interrogation protocols to use that aren't legal now that deviants have rights.

Nate looks like he wants to fuck him raw in this very goddamn alley.

"None of your phcking business," Gavin mutters.

Nate sighs and drops his smoke in the snow. "Oh, Gavin. Fine. We can do this your way."

He thinks that means the android is going to let it go, even though that phrasing is really weird. So he's a dumb idiot who doesn't even have his guard up when Nate passes by him to the door—only to suddenly grab him, turn him around, and shove him up against the brick alley wall.

Gavin slams an elbow back into his ribs on instinct, but that doesn't do shit against a private security android except make his whole arm go numb. He holds back the impulse to slam his head backward into the android's face, because that will hurt his human skull way worse than whatever metal Nate has under the plastic.

He tries to take stock of the situation instead, but then freezes when Nate leverages his taller, bulkier body to press against the whole of his back to keep him pinned.

And grind into his ass.

"Get off," Gavin snarls.

"Yeah, I intend to," Nate replies in casual amusement. "Don't worry, I'll let you come too."

"I'm. Not. Interested!"

Nate leans down to murmur in his ear. "Ah-ah. I've seen your porn history, Gavvy. This is damn near all you watch."

Watch! his brain screams. He watches that shit, might fool around with some forced submission, but only in scenes with his Dom. Which is NINES.

"I'm going to fuck you so good, you won't even remember his dumb little number," Nate croons.

"Well."

"Mm?"

Gavin huffs against the brick, just stalling for time. Or an idea. An idea would be really fucking nice right about now, but all he can think about is how his traitor dick really has gotten interested in this even though he's screaming inside and—

"Good is an adjective. You can't verb an adjective. You need to use the adver—"

Nate grabs a fistful of his hair and slams his face into the wall. He doesn't have any snappy comeback because yeah. That's all the response he needed.

But his hands have scrabbled against the brick wall long enough to find a loose one. Can't have shit in Detroit, much less well-constructed buildings. His skull and fist might not do shit versus the android's face, but a brick to the head should put anyone down.

Right?

"Now. Are you going to be a good b—"

The door to the alley opens, and Hank steps out. Gavin looks sideways at him and opens his mouth, but he chokes on the blood dripping down the back of his throat from his busted up nose and can't say anything.

"We're just having a little fun, Lieutenant," Nate says smoothly. "Nothing he doesn't beg for online."

Gavin's face flushes, and that really doesn't help the bleeding nose problem. Everyone in the precinct knows what he's like. Seen him come in the next morning after a night out with bruises on his throat or wrists. Hell, he'd fucking bragged about it.

"And I'll believe that when I hear him say it." Hank crosses over to them and wedges a thick arm between them. "Back off."

Nate steps back, and Gavin scrambles to get behind Hank, even as he hates himself for it.

"You really don't need to get involved in this," Nate says.

"I think I do."

Nate looks down at Hank's hand, still pushing against his chest. He smiles thinly and grabs the lieutenant's wrist.

"You really …" Nate leverages his arm down the way only a machine could. "Don't."

Hank struggles in the impromptu arm wrestling contest, staring as his hand gets mechanically pushed away. Nate glances down too with a smirk.

Then Hank throws a sudden left hook directly into the android's throat. It's a sucker punch, but there's no use fighting fair against a GJ500. He doesn't need to breathe of course, but his access port is at the back of his neck, with enough delicate little connections right behind his approximation of a windpipe—now crushed—for him to automatically take a step back and raise his hands to protect his throat.

Hank steps forward with him but grabs his hair this time, while also kicking out at his legs. After that, it's just gravity. Head yanked forward, legs knocked backward, and the android's stupid high center of gravity up in his chest and shoulder with all those muscles working against him.

He topples like a child's toy and hits the ground hard. Hank doesn't waste any time in grinding the heel of his shoe down on the back of the android's neck threateningly, and Nate goes still in surrender.

"You good?" he asks Gavin.

"I have a brick."

Gavin half-holds up the brick he'd pulled out of the wall. Oo, wow, great job. In contrast to the voice sneering inside his head though, Hank nods approvingly.

"Nines said your heartrate spiked and asked me to check on you, in case you were just … having fun," Hank explains.

"Which is what I said," Nate speaks with his cheek still pressed into dirty snow-slush.

"People having fun don't pull a goddamn brick out of the wall to beat your face in, asshole," Hank snaps back.

Nate's LED snaps from yellow to red, like maybe he really hadn't thought of that. Like he really preconstructed he was doing Gavin some sort of favor or something.

Nines steps out the back door before anyone can say anything else, Connor peeking out behind him. That's just great. Why not get the whole precinct out here? Everyone can crowd on in and witness this little moment.

Nines's LED goes red too as he looks at Nate on the ground, Hank keeping him down, and then slowly rotates his head to look over at Gavin's busted up face. Gavin drops the brick and spits out another thick wad of blood.

"I did not interfere," Nines says, his voice far more furious than any machine has a right to be. "With your flirting and your … schemes. I would never restrict Gavin's happiness."

Wait, his goddamn what?

"But you hurt him! You touched my human—"

Nines snarls out the claim, and Gavin swears he can feel some sort of shift in barometric pressure, like right before a tornado hits.

"And you. Hurt. Him."

Nate stays on the ground. He lies very still and doesn't say a goddamn word, actually.

Gavin reaches out for Nines. He's not really sure what he's going to say, but the moment he holds out his hand, Nines whirls around, his LED switching from red to yellow. He moves so fast and—and Gavin's dated a lot of shitty people. Really shitty. Nate isn't exactly an anomaly. So he automatically expects Nines to be mad at him.

Instead, Nines takes his hand so tenderly, they could be in a gay historical period piece.

"Yes, darling?" he asks.

Gavin gapes at him. He's still not … not really making a facial expression. His face was literally built differently than Connor's, even if it looks the same at first glance. The most he can manage is a completely neutral look, but with intensely focused eyes, like he's about to glare a tax return out of existence.

So no, Nines has never looked at Gavin the way Nate did.

But that doesn't mean he hasn't looked at him.

With …

… love?

Gavin finally finds his voice. "Hank. Can I go see Sumo?"

"Sure," Hank says easily. "Nines can bring you over, and you two just hang out for a bit."

Yeah, he bitches about Hank and Connor being Fowler's favorites and how Hank still doesn't get in before ten most mornings, but they're a lot better now. Good enough that he'll dog sit again sometimes, or get himself roped into a "family dinner" between Nines and Connor.

But this …

Gavin nods, throat all clenched up again.

"Yes," Nines answers for him. "I will take you to a secure location. Yes?"

All it takes is one more nod, and Nines is whisking him away out of the alley, but not through the station. They walk around the building instead so no one inside can see his face and ask questions, until they reach the parking lot, and then his truck. Nines unlocks it with his mind or something, opens the backdoor, and gently bullies Gavin into sitting down sideways in the backseat with his legs hanging out the door so Nines can fuss over his face.

"S'fine," he tries to protest.

Nines grabs the spare medical kit he keeps under the backseat and lays it in his lap. Gotta have one for all the bar fights he, well. That he used to get into. Sure as fuck can't afford hospital visits.

"I tried … so hard … not to … miscalculate," Nines says, voice overlaid with static.

Gavin tries to hold his face still so his partner can wipe all the blood off. "Mish-cal-coo-ate whah?"

"Jealous partners are bad."

Gavin blinks and stares at him. "Bad."

"It is … abusive."

Gavin opens his mouth and looks around the parking lot, as if the ghosts of all his actually abusive exes are going to show up, point their fingers, and laugh.

He brushes away Nines' fussy hands. "Is that why you've been ignoring me?"

Nines goes from yellow to red again. "No. Not … ignoring. Solving the case. In absence of … social module. Appropriate preconstructions. I … solving the case would make them leave. And I would have you to myself again."

He admits the last part quietly. Gavin feels like he just found out two plus two equals sixty-seven.

"You—at the party though," he insists. "You didn't say shit to me. You just hunkered down in the corner with Con … Connor. Who has a social module."

Nines nods. "Correct. I asked … for advice … to …"

He trails off and flutters his hands around Gavin's face again, then settles on carefully touching his chest, right over his heart. His big blue eyes stare at him like he's the most important person in the world.

Gavin feels his heart lurch up into his throat and pulls Nines closer by the back of his neck before remembering that even without all the blood only half wiped away, he can't kiss with a nose that's not quite broken, but still pretty goddamn close.

"Babe, just tell me," he says instead. "Phck, I have a social module. And I'm the—the relevant party. Your partner. Just fucking ask if you're not sure of something."

Nines looks down.

"The only reason." Gavin stops and swallows hard. "I even—with Nate. Was because we haven't talked about, y'know. Us. So I didn't know if, if you wanted to like, date me. Or if you were just experimenting and stuff."

Nines' whole face crinkles up in a frown. Cyberlife let him keep that expression. All the "scary" ones.

"You are my partner," the android says. "But you are also human. You have needs I cannot—"

"Absolutely the fuck not," Gavin interrupts. "You're mine. I chose you."

Nines looks up and hits him with those blue eyes again. "And are you mine as well?"

"Yeah." Gavin clears his throat. "You uh, might have to remind me though."

Nines decides the best course of action is clearly to drag Gavin closer and growl in his ear. Literally growl, like the giant unstoppable predator he is. Gavin shivers—and maybe whimpers a little—and presses closer.

"I will take you home and keep you safe and never let anyone else ever touch you," Nines says, petting his hair.

Gavin sighs in bliss.

"But you will be happy too," Nines states more quietly. "Yes?"

Gavin nods into his shoulder. Yeah. He's going to be happy. They'll both be happy.

Together.

***

***

this is another commissioned fic! my rates are $10 for 1k / $25 for 3k / or $40 for 5k, and you can also check out my patreon for my main reed900 series here ^^

#reed900 #gavin reed #dbh #dbh fic #dbh fanfic #my writing

[hacker-of-fandom]

Obey me characters reactions to a chaotic ratman human.

Sidenote I was high on tired and chaotic rat TikTok enjoy.

Lucifer:

What the fuck is that thing.

This thing was supposed to go to school with demons and angels.

Thought he summoned the wrong person until Mc responded to the name that he called.

A more chaotic Mammon but he does shit for no reason. LIKE AT ALL.

The first time he saw Mc petting a rat inside the house, he felt himself cracking.

"Mc.... What are you holding?"

"My new friend."

"Is your friend... A rat?"

"Why yes he is, most rats don't like being called a mouse or rodents. So he thanks you for that."

"Would you like to pet him? Oh, you've gotten quite pale."

Might have begged Diavolo to change the human students with someone else. As you can tell that didn't go well.

But-

Mc did have some good flaws.

He has good advice for the stupidest things ever, that just so happens to help in the most interesting times.

Like when the sink starts to flood the kitchen, just to grab Mc and give him a wrench and leave him in there.

"Don't let anyone come in here until I've texted you so, okay?"

Gets a text like a minute after that saying that everything is back to normal.

He runs in there not believing that shit.

No doubt the sink is fixed and there is no more water on the floor. And it seems like-

Mc is cooking dinner???

Lucifer is baffled how that even worked.

Another thing is, while Mc doesn't look like he could even be a suitable tea guest with his messy knotted hair, black ripped clothes, and usually a rode- rat on his shoulders. He likes tea.

Very much so.

"No, no Lucifer. I'm not saying the Earl Grey tea that you brought isn't good, it's just that I can tell that you boiled the tea leaves for way too long. A minute longer than needed if anything- Lucifer. Please don't raise your voice, Charlie doesn't like it."

He will never admit that a ratman was actually right about how long you needed to boil Early Grey tea leaves.

His nickname from Mc is, "Prideful boi" or "Lucyyyyyy~"

When he realized he couldn't get Mc to stop calling him Lucy, he just stopped getting mad over it. He now seems to almost smile at it.

Almost.

Mammon:

He has to watch over this human?

Oh hell no.

Is what he thought when Mc first came to Devildom. But now?

Mc is his escape buddy.

You know how Mammon gets tied up from the ceiling like every week?

Mammon just needs to call out for Mc and he'll come with a smirk on his face.

"What'cha do this time, greedy boi?"

Mammon can't even lie to him.

"I tried selling one of Lucifer's rings."

"Oooooh, yeah that'd getcha stuck. So whatcha goin do for my comrades and I?"

"I'll tell the local crows to stop hunting you guys?"

... The rats basically cheer at that.

"You have yourself a deal."

In the next ten seconds, a small army of rats have bitten the rope apart to have Mammon fall into Mc's arms.

Even with Mc scruffy look, Mammon can't really deny that Mc's smirk is very nice looking.

In class, they pass notes to each other with the rats.

Might have matching necklaces to show both crows and rats that they are equal.

Crow king and Rat king.

Bonus points if they now have networks of crow and rats stealing people's stuff.

"Crow bro", "Mamoney", and, "Cutie".

"Don't pet me when saying that! NO I'M NOT BLUSHING, STOP PETTING ME!"

Leviathan:

Didn't really care.

Just another normie.

Until.

"WHERE IS MY SERIES OF "Rat God and snake hybrid fall in love after meeting each other in the woods!" ROMANCE MANGA!"

He was so sure it was Mammon. He was about to storm up towards his seat in the dining room but-

"Oh, wait- oh man I'm sorry dude. That was totally me." Deadly silent.

Rat man knew how to read?

"What."

Mc explains that he was bored one day and asked if the rats could find him a manga to read. He just never got where they got it from.

Apologies for the inconvenience and hands him the manga that he was currently reading.

Was in such a state of shock that he didn't even comprehend that rats somehow got into his room and got the books of the top shelf.

"Y-you read manga?"

"Yeah, I watch anime and play video games too in my free time."

"Oh- w-well! I bet you don't even play Heros alley!"

"I've played both demos, the first game, and the dev even emailed me a few days ago, about letting me play the second upcoming Hero Alleys 2 game before the release to see my opinion."

He can't believe it.

"You know Kero-sama?"

"He's an old high school friend, yeah."

Begins to worship this rat-man.

Probably hugs Mc crying.

Spends so much time texting each other about games they've played and animes. That Leviathan realizes Kero is not the only game creator Mc knows.

Mc knows a lot of famous people in the Otaku world.

Leviathan sometimes leaves out open bags of chips for the rats that come by his room when Mc is gone.

Might accidentally confess his love towards Mc to the rats.

Mc explains the next day that he can understand what the rats say to him. And that he thinks Leviathan is pretty cool to be around as well.

Leviathan might die.

"Gamer bro.", "Envy boi", and "Levi-Kun".

"Don't call me that!" Five minutes later... "Can you call me Levi-Kun again, please?"

Satan:

Hates rats.

With his cat love, he wouldn't bat an eye at a rat dying.

But when he finds rats in the library in huge group pushing specific books of shelves with Mc sitting on a couch reading the books to them, and them sitting in crowds just watching and listen to his voice. He might think twice before kicking them.

Other than Mc's messy looks and chaotic personality, his voice was often very nice to listen to. So when he saw this reading group of rats, he slowly walked towards Mc before sitting down on one of the empty seats. As all of the other seats were taken with rodents.

It was ironically the Nutcracker, that Mc was reading out loud. At it seemed like he just started on the book. When the nutcracker and Ratking were fighting, Satan summed that the rats would hate the nutcracker.

But to his surprise, the rats cheered or jumped around when the Rat King was defeated. And Mc laughed at their antics.

Mc ended the book with a happily, "The end!".

"Sorry, Satan. You were probably looking for something."

Satan snapped out of his daydream and realized, yes he was looking for a book before coming here.

"Oh no it's fine, this was actually quite entertaining. May I ask some questions?"

"Shoot."

This ended up in a beautiful friendship of two chaotic people who love torturing Lucifer and reading books.

And yes, Satan does try to protect some rats from cats now.

"Kitty cat", "Angry boi", "Bookworm" and "Mine" are all nicknames that has made Satan stop reading or keeping a straight face.

Satan was reading a book while Mc was holding him against his chest, reading over his shoulder and just gripped tighter on Satan and said,

"Mine." Satan didn't know who he was telling that to but he was pretty sure his heart just picked up it's speed and lost his place in the book.

His voice is very nice, okay?

Asmodeus:

GrossgrossgrossgrossgrossGrossgrossgrossgrossgrossGrossgrossgrossgrossgrossGrossgrossgrossgrossgross

Did he mention gross?

Mc needed to take a shower! Do his hair! Clean up! Wear some good clothes!

AND FOR DIAVOLO'S SAKE GET RID OF THE RATS.

Asmodeus avoided Mc like the plague. I mean- rats have been involved with many plagues so it's no surprise.

But one day-

"Hey! Asmodeus! I think you lost this!"

Asmodeus turned around to see his lost necklace. It was pink pearls with a gold diamond chain.

He completely forgot that Mc was dirty and hugged Mc as hard as he could.

"How did you find it? Oh, I've missed it so much!"

"Let's say I've had a little help. Plus I actually wanted to know if you've lost anything else?"

Short answer yes, yes he did.

So Asmodeus was in Mc's room which wasn't actually that bad looking. There weren't that many rats as he expected. While Mc was grabbing all the jewelry the rats have found in a month time.

Is honestly surprised that Mc didn't sell any of the items. A lot of it would have made him one of the richest humans in all three dimensions.

Asmodeus asked how he can repay him, with Ya know. Sex.

Mc shakes his head no but instead asks him what hair products he uses?

Asmodeus thinks he is about to get a new makeup friend when in reality Mc wants to clean some of his rat friends.

But it just ends up Mc and Asmodeus going to a spa, that is at human temperatures.

Even if Mc looks like a rat, he is kinda good looking without a shirt and his hair covering 95 percent of his eyes.

"Pretty boi", "Jewels", and "Pinky-pie" are nicknames he has used for Asmodeus.

Personally likes all of the nicknames.

Beelzebub:

Ratman eats.

A lot.

It's not just him that he's feeding, it's his army of rats.

So when Mc first eats with the demon brothers he eats a shit load for himself and then pulls out a basket to put cheese, bread, crackers, and a few veggies inside for his army.

Then walks into his room and just whistles.

The army comes flooding in his room to eat the food he has provided.

He leaves the room to go to the kitchen where he finds Beelzebub going through the fridge even though dinner was just served twenty minutes ago.

They actually begin to talk.

Beelzebub enjoys knowing that he has a eating partner(s).

They get onto the topic working out, school, food and eventually family.

Mc explains he doesn't have much of a family except for his rat family.

Beelzebub doesn't try to bring up Belphegor but Mc says this:

"I've actually read about the seven sins avatar once. And I'm just wondering, where's sloth? I can't remember his name but I know it starts with a 'b'." Mc turns to the rat on his shoulder.

"Belphegor? Oh yeah, that's it! Belphegor the avatar sin of sloth! Where is he?"

Beelzebub might just cry right then and there.

"I don't know." Mc's eyes soften at his answer.

Mc and Beelzebub talk about what happened. And become very close friends in the matter of days.

Beelzebub is glad to have someone to talk to about his guilt and the fight between Belphegor and Lucifer but-

There is one thing that he just doesn't- understand.

Mc fights for him. And he didn't understand it. Beelzebub once caught Mc fighting a demon in the hallway of the school. And he punched the demon square in the face.

He later figured out that the demon was talking trash about him and Mc overheard it and just attacked the student. Like a vicious animal.

After the fight, Mc is left a bleed nose and a smirk. Beelzebub is very scared and worried. But is calmed down once Mc hugs him.

"I'm not letting anyone talk trash about my family."

Is super happy for the rest if the week.

"Hungry boi", " Favorite cheese.", "Cutie pie".

Cutie pie kinda makes him freeze or drop whatever he has from shock. He likes it though.

Belphegor:

After the whole timeline killing thing, the rats don't trust Belphegor at all. They'll hiss and bit and poop in Belphegor's bed. And let me tell you when you have an army of rats pooping in someone's bed its like cow shit.

Mc probably forgives him completely but Belphegor is getting a different vibe with the rats.

Finally, speak up about it.

"Hey, Mc."

"Yesss?"

"Do you still hate me?"

"What."

Now Belphegor feels like a dumb ass for asking this.

"Do you still hate me because your rat friend-army is like attacking me? And it's making me feel terrible for Ya know, the..." Belphegor kinda just moves his hands around.

Mc sighs and whistles sharply. Belphegor flinches seeing the thousands of rats running in the room with most of their eyes on him.

"Alright! Who has been harassing Belphegor!? I told you guys not to hurt him. He's my friend. We just set on the wrong foot guys. Apologies now."

Fuck he didn't mean for Mc to do this. He has gotten afraid of the rats for the past two weeks and he's just waiting for the rats to turn their backs on Mc.

Like he did.

But to his surprise and relief, the rats run away but come back with an item.

It was ring.

They tower up towards Belphegor with the ring grabbing his left hand and placing it on his ring finger. It was a diamond ring.

"What." Mc stuttered realizing what they were doing.

"Guys I'm not forcing him to marry me to make up the whole killing thing, come one."

The rats didn't seem to care as they danced and made a shrill scream of the wedding music.

"So... We're married now?"

"In rat terms, yes."

He's not going to complain if he doesn't get attacked anymore and is expected to cuddled Mc.

Also, the ring looked very nice.

Nicknames are, "Sleepy boi" "Cowboy" and "My husband".

Mc meant it as a joke but realized Belphegor was blushing. So he decided to only say it when they were alone.

Solomon:

Thinks Mc is a wizard of some sort.

A rat wizard.

Solomon constantly tries to make Mc do a blood pact with him.

"Dude can't we just be friends like come on."

Is also okay with that.

They become potion buddies.

The rats help with getting items that humans can't get. Like herbs in the monster forest.

They might have accidentally made a love potion for Asmodeus but used the wrong hair.

It was a long week for Mc since Solomon taste-tested it.

Solomon was constantly trying to hold his hand, or hug him.

The few times Mc laughed at something in class while hold Solomon's hand, Solomon would be overcome with emotions to kiss the dirty rat-man.

One time he succeeded.

*Insert muffled ratman screaming*

After that interesting week, Solomon remembered everything and would scare Mc by hugging him or giving him the same half lid eyes while telling him he loved him.

The only man Mc has ever feared.

Nicknames Mc has given him, "Wizard boi" "Lover boi" and "White owl."

Solomon honestly likes White owl as an alias.

Simeon:

Rats like shiny things.

Simeon is very, very shiny.

Mc is very protective of Simeon.

Case closed.

But he knew the only way to really befriend Simeon was to befriend Luke. But without seeming like he was just trying to befriend him, Ya know?

So, Mc stood up for Luke when he was being teased for his height.

"Mammon you better shut up before I start sending my rats to take your jewelry and sell them."

You can bet that no one bullied Luke for his height again.

"You okay, Luke?" Luke denied that he even needed help but Mc knew that he just got on Luke's and Simeon's good side.

There is just times where Luke, Solomon, and Simeon talking while Mc is just listening when Mc would grab Simeon's hand and play with it.

Solomon would chuckle at the sight of the rat-man just playing with an angel's hand. While Simeon would be slightly confused.

Mc would have the most serious look on his face while he just tenderly touch Simeon's palms.

"Mc, what are you doing?"

"Shiny."

His hand wasn't even shiny but that's his response.

It would become a thing where Mc would friendly touch Simeon's hair or hand or cape.

And animalistic fight for him.

It took Simeon to look up if rats liked shiny thing and if they protect them.

And they do. In fact, they can hoard them and protect them with their life.

It was too late for Simeon. He had a cute dirty ratman king protecting him because he was shiny.

His nicknames would be, "Holy boi" "Lovely" or "Shiny".

Simeon did blush at the nickname lovely.

Luke:

Luke thought Mc was a sinful human based on looks. Dirty, hoarded shiny things, and was friends with the demons.

But he soon just realized that Mc wasn't a bad person, just a rat.

Luke became very interested in Mc's rat friends and secretly giving him sweet after he stood up to the demon brother about his height.

And much like Simeon, Mc found that Luke was very shiny too.

But soon Luke looked up at Mc like a dirty father-like figure. And Mc saw him as a son. Along with the rats.

"Shiny kid." Or "Angel boi" was the first nicknames he used.

Mc would let Luke pet the rats after a while.

Simeon, Mc, and Luke looked like a small family.

Mc would begin to call Luke, "Son" or "Kiddo".

Luke complained but would cheerfully tell Simeon about it.

Barbatos:

He probably fainted seeing Mc with rats on his shoulders.

Would avoid him at all costs.

But he would suddenly get along when Mc stated that there were mice in the palace.

"What?"

"Yeah, my rats just told me that they smell mice in here we can get them out if ya-"

"Please, that would be very appreciated."

In a minute the ten rats that Mc brought were biting the back of at least twenty mice's feet as the ran out of the open castle doors.

Everyone was in awe at how organized the rats were and more of the fact that Barbatos was being held by Mc.

They got along but Barbatos was very cautious around Mc. Until Mc had enough.

"Barbatos I love you, so I'm going to leave my rats outside when I come to the castle, I also will be well washed okay? I want to befriend you." Is the voicemail Barbatos got from an unknown number which he could tell was Mc.

Part two will be the rest of Barbatos and Lord Diavolo. Thank you!!!!

#obey me beel #mammon #barbatos #satan #obey me belphegor #obey me shall we date #obey me diavolo #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #male reader #rat man