#and my dumb ass naively replied to them to be like

[rileytwenty]

IDIA || an Avatar story (x Neteyam)

Chapter 8

Masterlist

(English Na'vi)

The knowledge that Neteyam could have made it back to the island safely if it weren't for me dug into me as if someone had buried a knife in my chest up to its hilt.

He was smart and alert enough to realize what was happening to us and likely would have been quick enough to keep up with the douchebag gang to get back, but he couldn't because of his obligation to my dumb ass.

"I'm sorry, Neteyam," Was all I could say. I had probably said it three times already.

"Do you have any idea how shameful it will be when we get back? And that's if we don't die out here before my family realizes we're gone. I cannot believe you were so naive."

In a sense, I was relieved that Neteyam was with me. The lack of his presence was more noticeable to the Sullys. If he had followed Ao'nung and his friends back to the island, I'm not one-hundred percent confident that someone would have cared enough to come find me.

"Eclipse will happen in a few minutes. We should get on land, start a fire." He suggested, his tone indicating that he was still upset with me. He began swimming towards the shoreline and I followed close behind.

There was a thin strip of beach across the front of the island before the ring-like rock structures started. It wrapped around almost half of the island lengthwise, though it was only about three strides in width.

"Go look for something wooden, something that will catch," He ordered sternly, and I listened, turning in the opposite direction he was heading to scour the small length of beach.

By the time we met back up again, it was nearly pitch-black and very chilly.

"What did you find?" His bad mood had quickly dissipated under the stress of survival.

Instead of a reply, I held my arms out to display what I had found. A few logs-- only semi-wet-- and a bunch of dead Pandorian palm tree leaves. His eyes lit up.

"Oh, yes! Those leaves will work very well." He sent me his signature fang-y half-smile. He wouldn't say 'good job', but I could read between the lines.

"So, how does one start a fire?" I asked him.

He looked at me with a glare of irritation. "You don't know how to start a fire." It was less a question that an unbelieving statement.

"Nope."

"You would die in the forest. It's lucky you live in that lab." His distaste for my lifestyle was clear. I could almost see a mini Neytiri in his head, working hard against me.

I was getting fed up with people blaming me for my lack of life skills as a Na'vi. "Well you had parents to teach you how to survive, now didn't you?"

He had nothing to say to that, and instead changed the topic. "Give me a hand, will you? Grab that stick there."

With me following his instructions, he had a fire going in only a few minutes.

On land, we were relatively safe. The island was too small to inhabit anything carnivorous. The biggest threat to us was the bugs, which loved our still-wet skin and very well may have killed us via the itching or annoyance factors.

After an unbearable amount of time with Neteyam telling me not to itch the bites and me itching them anyways, I burst out, "I can't handle this anymore! I'm getting in the water." It was the only thing that could soothe the bites.

"Idia, no. Who knows what's in the shallows now that it's dark? Stay on the land, someone will be here soon."

"You said that twenty minutes ago, Neteyam. I'm getting in."

"Idia--" It was too late, I was already waist deep. I crouched down, dunking my body up to my neck in the decently chilly water.

"This is so much better. You should get in, it'll help with the itching," I suggested.

He sighed. "Get out of the water, please. Before something is tempted to take a bite out of you, skxawng." He turned back to the fire, adding some more leaves on top.

"Fine, fine, be that wa-"

A sharp jolt shot up my left leg like lightning. I silently gasped, my brain too shocked to scream or cry. The jolt turned to searing pain which turned to burning. I was hopping on one leg out of the water, holding my upper thigh right above where the pain started. I collapsed onto the sand, cradling my leg as best I could.

"Neteyam!" My wincing tone had him whipping his head around and running over in an instant.

"Argh! I told you not to go into the water!" He slammed his fist into the sand, crouching beside me.

I looked down to find out why my leg was burning and noticed a thick, jelly-like substance coating my calf, knee and lower thigh. Is this what was causing the pain? I reached forward to remove it, but Neteyam caught me by the wrist.

"Don't. It'll hurt your hand, too."

"I need it off. Eywa, it's burning, Neteyam!"

"I'll get a stick. Don't touch it." He ran off for a moment, and by this point my vision was getting fuzzy.

Pushing my head back into the sand as a distraction, I let out a small screaming sob.

Neteyam returned and used the stick to remove the jelly-substance. The burning didn't lessen. I was fully sobbing, not having the strength or focus to try to compose myself. My body was on the verge of throwing up.

"Dammit!" Neteyam shouted. It would have startled me if my brain was present. "There's nothing to help with on this stupid beach!"

"Neteyam?" Shouted a worried voice from out on the water. Jake.

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

I must've passed out. I woke in the Sully marui with Ronal standing over me.

The pain hit me like a hammerhead titanothere ramming me at full force. It was less than before, but enough to elicit a pained wheeze from my lungs.

"Child? Are you alright?" Ronal leaned down, cupping my head.

"Shit, that burns," I gasped out.

"There she is," Jake sighed out a laugh. He was squatting next to me, watching me intently.

"I will apply the medicine now that she is awake," Ronal explained, and began dabbing a paste onto my injury.

My thoughts were scattered. "What exactly happened?"

"Jellyfish sting," Jake answered, "you passed out from the pain. Ronal says you'll heal completely in a week or so if you keep applying the medicine every day."

Neteyam. I looked around, and spotted him with his ears back and his tail tucked between his legs. I made eye contact, but he looked away.

"I'm sorry, sir. I should never have let her go in the water." Neteyam apologized to his father.

"Neteyam, we'll talk about this late-"

"What?" I was baffled by his need to apologize. "That's stupid. I'm older than you, it's not your job to protect me. Besides, you tried to warn me and then you still did your best to help me. If anything, I should be thanking you and you should be mad at me."

Jake chuckled darkly. "Oh, I'm pissed. With both of you. Just you wait."

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #ao'nung #atwow #awow #aonung #tsireya #tuktirey #tuk #tuk sully #x neteyam #neteyam x reader #neytiri #reader x neteyam #neteyam #neytiri sully #neteyam sully #neteyam x oc #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #kiri #kiri sully #sully kids #jake sully #loak sully #lo'ak sully #avatar quaritch #quaritch #miles quaritch #spider

[cilil]

❅ Prompt: Lazy Day ~ modern/punk AU Melkor x Langon ❅ Synopsis: Langon receives a "hands on lesson" on what the prostate does. ❅ Warnings: Smut (some fingering) ❅ Short oneshot

» AN: Inspired by this art that popped up on my dash today and written with @junk-whunk-punk-artist's blessing. It was supposed to be a spontaneous surprise that @melkors-big-tits might have spoiled a little, but that's alright :P hope y'all enjoy!

It was supposed to be a lazy day, just hanging out and blasting the shittiest metal music they could find to piss off Melkor's annoying brother. And things had been going fine, great even, until the conversation shifted to naughtier topics and Langon asked what he now realised might have been a dumb question. 

Melkor shifted on the couch, turning to face him, one leg crossed over the other. His elbow rested on the back pillow. "You don't know how the prostate works? Seriously?" 

Embarrassed, Langon increased the speed with which he chewed on his bubblegum. 

"I mean, I guess it's a sex thing or whatever, heard Mai talk about it once or twice when he's fucking Tyelpë, but you know..." 

He didn't feel like voicing it, but both he and Melkor were already well aware that, between the two of them, Mairon was usually the one bringing people home. 

"You're missing out," Melkor said.

Langon merely shrugged in response. As far as he was concerned, there was little he could do about it – but the devious glint in the taller man's dark eyes told him that he had other ideas. 

Melkor moved closer to sit directly beside him, their thighs brushing against one another, his arm already snaking around his shoulders. "Do you wanna find out?" 

His deep voice was devilishly, devastatingly alluring, and Langon blushed. He was not so naive as to not realise where this was going, and excitement made his skin prickle. Melkor was rowdy, cool, handsome and unfairly sexy, turning heads even when people despised and ridiculed him, and he was not immune to his charms. 

"U-umm... yeah?" Langon replied sheepishly and was pulled onto his lap without further delay. 

Melkor held out his hand. "You better spit that out first," he said, nodding towards his restlessly chewing jaw. 

Obediently, Langon spat his bubblegum onto his palm and watched him discard it carelessly before bringing his hand back to his mouth. 

"And now spit again. On my fingers." 

"Why?" 

Melkor grinned down at him. "Assuming you're as clueless as you're acting right now, you're gonna need it. Spit, pants down, pull your legs up. Got it?" 

"Y-yeah." 

"Good." 

Langon did as he had been told. His mind had not yet fully grasped that he was about to – partially – undress in front of one of the sexiest punks around, get fingers shoved up his ass and finally find out about one of the many naughty things Mairon got up to all the time. It was as exciting as it was nerve-wracking, but fortunately for him, Melkor seemed to know what he was doing. 

Now exposed and awkwardly balancing on the other man's lap, Langon felt his cheeks flushing bright red when his shirt was pulled up in tandem with a spit-slicked finger dipping between his shivering legs. 

"Relax, pretty boy. It'll feel a bit weird at first, but very good once I show you what your prostate does," Melkor laughed, his voice low and quiet, and leaned down to kiss Langon's cheek. The dark stubble on his chin and jaw brushed against soft skin, eliciting a small gasp. 

Langon wrapped one arm around his neck to steady himself while Melkor took his time massaging his rim and playing with his nipple before pushing inside. His breath quickened and his free hand grasped the nearest thing to hold on to when he was breached, landing on his friend's still-clothed knee. 

"Easy. Almost there," Melkor whispered in his ear, and Langon exhaled, willing his muscles to relax. It wasn't like he had never done anything of this sort before, but the sensation was strange and intense, his body wanting to tense up and push against it until – 

Melkor crooked his finger, causing it to press against a hidden spot inside him, and Langon threw his head back with a moan loud enough to alert the entire house. 

"F-fuck-!" 

It felt good, so good in fact that he began to move his hips to get more of it. Thankfully, Melkor was happy to oblige and pushed his finger in and out of him, rubbing against his rim and his prostate with skillful precision. He took advantage of Langon's exposed neck to pepper it with small bites and kisses and continued to leisurely explore the sensitive areas of his upper body with his free hand. 

Torture and bliss. Langon felt like he was having an epiphany, not just in regards to the euphoric pleasure flooding and drowning his mind, but now he also understood what all the songs and tales were about. He hadn't believed it could feel this good – and he had been so very wrong. 

When he inevitably came all over his shirt, cursing under his breath, Melkor carefully withdrew his hand and pressed one last gentle kiss to his heaving throat. 

"Think you got it now? Or do you need me to explain more?" 

"'m good," was all that Langon managed, closing his eyes to ground himself. "So very good..."

Thanks for reading! @junk-whunk-punk-artist I scrolled your blog a bit and hope I managed to capture the vibe somewhat heh X)

taglist: @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @bluezenzennie @edensrose @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @melkors-big-tits @melkors-defense-attorney @singleteapot @wandererindreams

#melkor #morgoth #langon #melkor x langon #oneshot #ainur #silm fanfic #silmarillion fanfiction #silmarillion #cílil writes #my writing #winter prompts

[away-ward]

Hey ko! I was the anon who talked to you about my opinion of nightfall around two weeks ago ask & ans 256? Anyway, i dont think i have anything much to reply to your answer, i agree with a lot of things you said. And i actually read the bonus rikabanks and wtf? 🤮 i shouldve listened to you!!!!! Wtf? Why do i feel like dn series dont have any couples that will stay together for the rest of their lives? Like? Tbh, i wasnt feeling alexaydin, willemmy was on thin ass because of that bitchass will grayson, kaibanks too on thin ice because of kai fuck that guy- conclave, then michaelrika is so stale? Ngl, they got that sexual tension, but what else?

Unpopular opinion, i actually dont dislike any fmcs in this series except for winter, even rika, i just dont feel much about her tbh. It's insufferable to see these men and women going after her bland ass, but hey wtv. My least fav though would 100% be winter. alex was my #1 hated, but winter was my #1 disliked fmc in the series, but still my dislike for her is lower than any hatred i have for the horsemen tbh. I think it's because both of alex and winter are jjst such self righteous hypocrites, will and kai got on my nerves for the same reason too. when they fucked up, they love to play victim too much, and blame everybody as if their hands are not just dirty. winter's character is just being a useless tool, to be damon's muse and before anyone come after me, winter was not boring because shes blind at all. It's her lack of presence outisde of damon, and her personlity. In general, damonwinter is unlikeable to me. Shes just there, she didnt make any impact to her OWN love story and i hate it, feels like only damon was yearning, and i dont even like damon. Like AT ALL. I fucking hate him, and still think he deserves better than winter tbh.

Funny how out of the four main couples, i actually rooted for damonwinter the least. Even in conclave and fire night, it was always damon taking initiatives, and i hate it, i dont like winter because of this. I dont understand how od got the chance to write a bomb ass character who's disabled and write someone naive, guillible, self righteous, weak, whiny and slut-shaming, like winter. Granted other characters did too, but the way she was described as pure and good but doesnt match up to how she actually was, i was disappointed. theyre the least not romantic to me, besides kaibanks (but kaibanks was because pd didnt know how to write them, and busy putting damon in their story. Outisde of those factors, they got chemistry). I want fmc and mmc to be obsessed and be yearning and work for each other. Damonwinter was giving nothing, because winter made it feel like a reluctant group project, but hey looking at goodreads reviews tell me that maybe its just me. I was so disappointed because everyone was like "you gota keep pushing corruot and hideaway for damonwinter" then when i read it, i was like "huh, why was winter like THAT?" She was so fucking self righteous and annoying. Like she dont gotta a brain or something? Like? Even rika wasnt this gullible. I mean rika WAS very gullible but there was a lot of situations we read where she was only like that because she chose to put it past her since her only aim in corrupt was michael michael michael. As she grew, even though she was still a lot unnecessary, she wasnt insufferable on purpose, but because pd wrote her to be one. Rika's character assassination was not because of herself, but because of pd's writing. Like damon said, half dumb half smart. But winters character was straight dumb. I feel like it's due to bad writing AND her character was born to fluff damon up. Like winter Was so damn stupid, i had to take a break when i read her pov.sometimes stupid? Thats fine, everyone does that in the series (except for the horsemen) but almost all the time? Girl, what? Interesting how damon really always find interest in dumb fmcs, but then he also admitted that thats his personality type, literally the ditzy blonde ones, so hey, maybe misogyny IS the big turn on for these "heroes" huh?

and another thing that i wanna touch on: purity culture of this series. Ohmy fucking god, it was so icky!!!!! Made me hate damonwinter even more. No because why did nobody gave this a trigger warning? I didnt know this going into the series!!!!! Ohmygod! Like for real? Damon always talking about how young and pure the people around him? I get it. Trauma. But goddamn, he romanticised it all the time and never grew out of it! I cannot stand His povs!!! Talking about rika like that, then treating banks like that and touching her ass ohmygod it traumatised me, then babying will and acting like he's a baby, then winter about her young thighs, ruining her and shit like ughhh 🤮 and innocent sleeping winter like she was 12 🤮 like whats with the purity-obsessed with these characters? Rika when she said alex was the purest? Huh? theyre both such dumb no-thoughts-but-only-dicks besties for real. Theyre always so embarrassing together, so shallow, i hate it!! But pd has never had a talent to write good female relationships either, her birthday girl book and fall away series are always fmcs fighting and putting other women down. But she always write all these men bonding with each other and having the best kinds of support system. I hate it!!! Anyway, back to the purity topic, ugh, did you notice this too? I always throw up in my mouth a lil when damon went into emmy's shower stall and talked about will like that, it's so predatory (which again, i know trauma, but idgaf) and weird ughhhhh. But people esepcially willdamon shippers always go awww 🥹 but theyre also damonwinter lovers so i guess purity is really their kink? Idk idc, you like what you like but it still traumatised me!!!! Thank god in emmy's pov i dont have to read much about purity and misogyny. Ughhhhhhh. Like 6 books in the series, and only in nightfall we see the fmc being mostly good to other women, and not the other way around only ughhhhhh. Maybe this was why alex was mad at emmy, among many other possible reasons than jealousy? Because emmy was her first female friend in the group who didnt start her relationship with alex being shit or judging to her from the start? And after everything still good to her? Because shes not to sincerely supportive female friendship like this? Or am i reaching? Because i remember alex's relationship with rika, banks and winter were rocky at first, not like theres a big fight or anything, but their men always use her to pit against their women and their women always looks down on her? Maybe not winter because she didnt know but damon was still implying that alex was only a side hoe. Idk, have you discussed this point here before? I think it's interesting how bare minimum it was, but thank fucking god for emmy for this. I wished she was bitchier and didnt have to always be so kind to people like this, they just always walk all over her while her bitchass guy grayson stood there like a dumbo, never fight for anything. Ughhhhhhh im pissed!!

i think that's the only thing i got in mind after ask and answ 256.

anyway,

and i just read your conversation with anon about emory's lack of background and ohmygod, it just came to mind that wow, emory's back story is really the most mysterious, huh? And not in a good way, but in a bad author-really-dgaf way. Like, damn? We really dont know much about emory? I'd like to think she dated and all, but the relationships were not impactful enough to change nightfall. But i still dont understand, why tf does pd's mmc always be so obsessed of being overly fond of other women in their story? Like? Will and alex? Why is pd always so obsessed with this? But the women always stay virgin or not a hoe, again, pure! Ughhhhh purity!! Men can have fuck buddies and girl bff (kai, will) but girls got called out and lashed out for being close to men while their men didnt give a fuck about how they feel (kai with damon, lev and david and prety much any men in banks vicinity, wil with damon, aydin and any men emmy hooked up with while being #1 whore himself). The hypocrisy and double standard!!!! Adding another reason in my list to hate kai and will. No bcs it's easy to hate characters like michael, damon and aydin from the get go because theyre shit and they know it. But hypocrites like kai and will? They always get babied by female readers and i hate it!!!! Cant pd write just one book with fmc who's not a pure virgin with big bad sccary guy who treats her like shit? Ughhhhhhh did i say how much i hate the purity concept in her stories?

Now, another one that i got angry about after thinking about emory's lack of background story: pd had the time to make up that Aaron Palmer Fane name for Rika's baby, combining alex and will's name, and the middle name of Torrin (girl version of torrance) for one of willemmy's daughter, and Fane for damon's son, but she can't give the same energy for emmy's story, and banks' closure? Like those babies literally only came not until later, but they got their spotlights? I'm so pissed off! Uggghhhh like if pd was so obsessed with alex and will, why cant they just write them together? This is the case where authors wrote too much of unnecessary side characters and fans start siding with them instead of the fmcs. And then pd's say shit like "oh i planned this, you just dont understand". No her writing and planning was just whack, period. She shoudve hyped up emmy from the start in every single book. For one fact about alex, give emmy 3-4 extras. How the hell do you even plan your stories like this? Who's the main character now, im so angry! We literally got a scene of alex and will on a bike, but not willemmy? Got a scene of alex in willemmy's bed, but not willemmy hanging out? Even their godzilla movie date after was glossed over. Dont even mention the cove burning scene. Unpopular opinion, I understand the point of her being locked up and will's thought of it, but again, why is alex with him? Ughhhhhhhh im angry!!!!!!! And why the fuck is will so fucking bad at setting boundaries? And when willemmy talked in the carfax room, they prob did talk about boundaries, no? So why no scenes of that? Because pd didnt find that interesting? But will giving alex's cheek a sloppy kiss at the cove, howling like dogs and looking into each others eyes saying theyre mirrors are interesting? Interesting to whom? Ughhhh

another thing, i read on goodreads/ pd's website that the characters' birthdate were never something that she thought too much off until the story got published them and fans asked for them. Huh, what a great planner! Like at this point, i dont believe that shes a great planner at all. And i cannot unsee it but i feel like pd and damon are similar in the sense that what goes on in their doesnt match reality, thats why their rationale are stupid. Description doesnt match anything. Like?? It made me feel a bit disrespected as a reader because she kept on writing a but i felt gaslighted if i felt b, then her fans will attack me and say im dumb because i didnt believe a. Like why are you angry at me? Tell pd to write properly ten, how is it my fall, if im not the only reader who had this problem with her writing? Anyway, i guess No wonder banks' age doesnt make any sense, but then she doesnt give a fuck about banks as much either other than always making her self worth about men around her- damon, kai and gabriel. Idk, if i thinkabout all the way pd messed up hideaway and banks character, that'll be a whole other long rant that nobody probably gaf about, but me.

Tbh i really dont remember where i heard this but hideaway was actually her hardest book to write because corrupt was supposed to be a standalone, so she had to think of how kai and banks would work. So dont take my word for it!! But i can see why hideaway was like THAT. i guess by nightfall, she just wanted to end it. I mean she did took feedback to lessen alex's presence in fire night, thank god! And i remember one of her goodreads questions about having more diverse fmcs and pd said she couldnt because of banks' character and who she was related Too and tbh idek what to make of this, because i just read the extra on her site of banks stalking michael rika kai in the valentines extra, and that LITERALLY couldve been the prologue hideaway or epilogue for corrupt. Uggghh and not the epilogue of hideaway being damon pissing? Ughhhhhh i hate himmmm.

excuse me ko, i sound so hateful and whiny here but i only react to this to bad soap operas, because only bad soap kperas can me invested in their shitty stories like this. Im so angry but so invested? Idk but i think people who are still in the fandom are tough readers, because after my anger subside, i think i wont be touching this series again for real, these characters, these books, these stories and this author just make me angry!!! How do yall stay sane here. Your fanfics are one of the reason i like willemmy in an au. No but seriously, theyre so fun to read! I really appreciate the fanfics you put out for free, and all the games and fan things you do on your blogs! And unexpectedly, i didnt know i need that banks emmy hollow fic! Thank you for that female characters bonding 🥰

if you have any happy books or shows that i can watch with no angst or bullying, please do send my way 🥹🫶 i think i need a cleanse from this series

Heyyyy! I’m so happy you're b-ohhh…

And i actually read the bonus rikabanks and wtf? 🤮 i shouldve listened to you!!!!! Wtf?

Well. What can I say? Sometimes curiosity gets the better of you. Looks like you did the same thing a lot of us did: go looking for all the bonus material only to realize it doesn’t get better; it only gets worse. To this day, the only one I return to is the Hideaway deleted scene with Will. Does so much for my willemmy heart.

Why do i feel like dn series dont have any couples that will stay together for the rest of their lives?

You’re not the first to say that. Personally, I feel that these people will live the rest of their lives together, die together, and be buried together if only because no one else will put up with them (probably all at the same time if Damon gets any control, and knowing PD…)

(…am I implying that Damon will plan a murder/suicide plot, killing his wife and best friends when they reach age 80, because he can’t stand the idea of living without them, or them he? possibly.)

My least fav though would 100% be winter.

Your rant about Winter and purity cultural got me thinking a little bit. The majority of readers like to give Emmy multiple boyfriends and hook ups in her time away (I’m in the minority but that's for another time), but I truly feel that it would have given Winter’s character much more legitimacy if she was the one having hook ups.

Like, Rika’s history makes sense given how the Crist family was controlling and manipulating her.

And Banks’ virginity can be played as more of a power move. She grew up around men who treated women like toys, constantly being reminded that there’s a thin line between her and them. Her choice not to let them have access to her body, even if she had found someone other than Kai, gives her autonomy. She has the lock and key, no one else, not even Damon. It works for her character and situation.

But Winter? She was so angry with Damon after the truth came out. Not to mention, he opened her up to experiences she didn’t have before, but were suddenly taken away from her. It would have made so much sense if she had gone out and tried to erase him, tried to replace him, tried to capture whatever it was she felt in his arms with someone else, only to discover that it doesn’t work. No one else can do what Damon does for her, and she hates herself for it. Him too.

Even if she’s a little ashamed of herself, because she’s coming out of this “purity cultural” mindset, it’s fine. If she had multiple partners before her second chance with Damon, her knowing that it he’s the only one that she “works” with makes a lot more sense plot-wise. They’re messed up, but they’re messed up in similar ways, and that’s why it can’t be anyone else. Maybe that would have given Winter a bit more substance as a character, outside of being Damon’s soother. But what do you think?

and another thing that i wanna touch on: purity culture of this series.

You asked if I noticed it, and to be honest, on my first read, I didn’t. But this leads into another idea I’ve been thinking about lately, which is mostly unrelated except for the way my mind connected them.

I’ve watched a few youtube videos on how booktok and the like are promoting books, and why some of those books are just not good despite all the hype. And one person (can’t remember which video, but I’m sure this is not their opinion alone), suggested that part of the problem is the tropification of books.

Now, this doesn’t bother me. Knowing the tropes of books will get me to read the summary and then I decide from there. But that’s because I was raised on fanfiction. I didn’t have a lot of money growing up, and the library was not always easy to get to. But fanfiction was free and at my computer, and easy to access. Which means I was also exposed to all of the terms and phrases frequently used in dark romance (along with a lot of other obvious signs of lazy and cheap writing) and learned to ignore.

So the popularizing of features you’d normally only see if fanfiction/fandom spaces makes sense, because the people who were in fandom spaces when I was a teenager are now adults with money who decide what’s popular and what’s not; and therefore what gets published and picked up (and this isn't anything new, really. I think a bigger part of this is just that it's the natural evolution of the bodice rippers from years past).

And putting these thoughts together, I realized I read DN as if it were a mid-tier fanfic. I think it was written about as well a fanfic. Not that it was once FF and then turned into original fiction, like so many today. Just that it has the same level of skill and editing quality as a really good but not great, fanfic. That may be why I’m not as angry as other readers? And also why a lot of the more problematic issues went over my head? It’s the same things you overlooked to get some decently written work on ffn or ao3. Sometimes, you just had to put on your “no thoughts; just here for a good time” helmet and go.

I could be completely off on this. It’s a new idea I haven’t fully worked through, but might possibly have some merit.

That being said, it was very popular when I was a teenager – and given how hyped books with these features are today, I’m sure still is – to have a oversized, brooding, sometimes bloody MLI be totally whipped for the good girl, never seen a naked man without blushing, “he's going to ruin me and I'm going to let him,” FLI. Later, readers started calling for more empowered female characters. And some writers understood the assignment and some didn’t. PD seems to have tried to combined the two, with less than effective results.

And this goes back to my point about Winter. It’s not that this idea of “purity” doesn’t have its place, it’s how it’s used and what it says about the characters who are using it.

If Banks was a virgin by choice well into her 20s, good for her. That's a power move.

If Damon had to let go of this idea that Winter was only meant for him, of this “pure as freshly fallen snow”, and to see her worth despite it, it would have been good development.

But I think we both know that Banks being a virgin and Damon having those thoughts about Winter were not meant for character but because that’s what some readers find hot. Which is why it’s one, not enjoyable for all; and two, went straight over my head. What other people find hot has nothing to do with me. I’m still here for the character development (that never happened! I’m clearly madder about that).

But pd has never had a talent to write good female relationships either, her birthday girl book and fall away series are always fmcs fighting and putting other women down.

I tried reading bully but I don’t remember much from it. But to your point, I don’t understand why PD seems to always want women to fight, as if that’s the way to show their empowered. Like above, when readers started calling for stronger female characters, some writers took that to mean they wanted physically strong characters – which in some cases is legitimate. But it was soon made clear that that’s not what was asked for.

It seems that PD only finds female characters interesting if they’re willing to physically fight another woman because that shows…? Actually, I’m unclear what it shows, exactly. I would have loved if the girls in this story weren’t copy/paste versions of one another; if the things that made them strong was different and yet just as valid.

For example, if it was Rika’s capacity for forgiveness tempered with her growing backbone and refusal to be treated like a doormat was emphasized as what made her strong, and not her fencing/martial arts/willingness to hurt others.

If Winter had unmatched mental fortitude. I mean, come on, the girl still dances after going blind. She has resiliency. Why is she so weak when Damon’s not around? Why does she need Damon to tell her to raise her voice.

If Emory’s emphasized strength was her kindness despite her suffering, and not her ability to walk away from good things and endure massive amounts pain, which we see is mostly physical.

Again, for the most part, those are all good qualities, but usually it’s only the physical strength and willingness to use it that’s emphasized more than any other trait. And ruins them because them you have to make them be angry enough to physically fight, or want to, when these girls should be supporting each other.

I left Banks out above because her being able to physically fight is one of her more important features, and should be allowed to shine through. If the other girl’s abilities were scaled back, Banks being able to do what she does, having learned how to survive in Gabriel’s house, would have just been more outstanding.

It just goes back to having good female relationships means having a variety of women and a love of different types of personalities. I’m struggling to see PD truly enjoying characters, and more enjoying just certain plots and character traits. I think one thing that is clear is that PD is not the writer for me. Which is fine.

Maybe this was why alex was mad at emmy, among many other possible reasons than jealousy? Because emmy was her first female friend in the group who didnt start her relationship with alex being shit or judging to her from the start? And after everything still good to her? Because shes not to sincerely supportive female friendship like this? Or am i reaching?

It doesn’t really matter if you’re reaching, you’re in a fandom space now. Run with it!

I like the idea that Alex and Emmy’s relationship is unique because Emmy was the first girl to not judge her (and of all the girls, Emmy has the biggest reason to, but because she’s Emmy, all she wants if for Will to be happy). It would have been great if we could have seen Alex struggling with wanting to be Emory’s friend because of the kindness shown her, and wanting to protect Will from further hurt, which only Emmy had the ability to do. Alex wanting to be friends with both, but having to pick one because they’re on opposite sides of an issue is a real problem.

But there’s some arguing that idea because Alex left Emory exposed, and then said it’s partly because she wanted to see Emory and Will interacted. What were they, her little experiment?

There were a lot of ways that the Alex/Emory/Will issue could have been played that would have address their real issues without pitting Alex and Emory against each other the way they were, but then PD seems to love it when the girls fight, then kiss and make up.

Cant pd write just one book with fmc who's not a pure virgin with big bad sccary guy who treats her like shit?

Doesn’t PD’s new series feature this? Someone else will have to check, but I’m pretty sure. But I can’t vouch for how the mc treats the fmc.

pd had the time to make up that Aaron Palmer Fane name for Rika's baby, combining alex and will's name, and the middle name of Torrin….

This is not something I’ve discussed before but I hate PDs naming trend. What is the obsession with Fane?

Madden? Cool. Jett, nice. Indie? Would have loved if her middle name was actually Jones, because that would have been sooooo Willemmy, but I’m still hoping (stupidly) that Aspen has some real inspiration and not that they opened up a baby name book and picked the first name they saw.

But are we really surprised that the most thought when into how Rika and Damon named their kids?

Aaron Palmer – isn’t that a drink…wait, no. that’s Arnold Palmer.

Athos? An eight-year-old named herself after one of the three musketeers and where supposed to think that's cool and not totally contrived (and am I the only one who thinks it’s weird that Athos being eight technically means she was born when Rika was sixteen, which is when Corrupt first takes place…which kinda means that Michael and Rika sort of retroactively become teenage parents, as if Michael hadn’t let Rika leave that night? Like I wouldn’t be surprised if it was revealed that Athos’ birthday is in July - nine months after devil’s night.).

Dag??? Take Damon’s ability to name things away from him.

She shoudve hyped up emmy from the start in every single book. For one fact about alex, give emmy 3-4 extras.

Absolutely!!! That's so real. I’ve said it before and I’ll probably say it again, but Emory should have haunted Will the entire series. One hint in each book was not enough to sell how bad Will was truly affected by her. And if we had been given more hints, I think the shipping war probably wouldn’t have been so bad. Overall, we just needed more of Emmy’s presence throughout the series, even if she wasn’t on the page, to be really hyped for Willemmy.  

The way the idea of reading Nightfall and then going back through the series and seeing where Will was most affected by her grips me, and we never got that. ugghgh.

another thing, i read on goodreads/ pd's website that the characters' birthdate were never something that she thought too much off until the story got published them and fans asked for them.

Please don’t get me started on the birthdays/timeline. I’ve been through enough.

Idk, if i thinkabout all the way pd messed up hideaway and banks character, that'll be a whole other long rant that nobody probably gaf about, but me.

I can name like two or three blogs that would love to hear your rant. Come on, don't keep them to yourself. Share.

Idk but i think people who are still in the fandom are tough readers, because after my anger subside, i think i wont be touching this series again for real, these characters, these books, these stories and this author just make me angry!!! How do yall stay sane here.

Too true. Like I said above, I wasn’t as angry as a lot of other readers, but I mourned the lost potential. I kept reading because of Emmy, and high (too high) expectations for what this could turn into and it never went in that direction.

The mourning led to ranting with a friend, which led to me writing fics to answer the questions I had and fill in the gaps, and try to capture some of that potential. But otherwise, I wouldn’t be here. The asks keep me around. The games fill in the time between the asks, and honestly, to try and help make some of it a little better. It’s fun to play with the idealized versions of the characters in my head. This is actually a great group dynamic and if PD would let them be friends instead of trying to find away that everyone can sleep with everyone despite the fact they made their favs related, I think we could have some fun.

There are good things here, and I believe one day a talented enough artist or writer will come along and tap on that potential. Until then, we keep trying to find the joy in what’s left.

Your fanfics are one of the reason i like willemmy in an au. No but seriously, theyre so fun to read! I really appreciate the fanfics you put out for free, and all the games and fan things you do on your blogs! And unexpectedly, i didnt know i need that banks emmy hollow fic! Thank you for that female characters bonding 🥰

Honestly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much! Hollow was definitely a response to the scene I warned you not to read, and while I know the characters aren’t perfect replicas of PD’s, I needed it too. Just happy they can bring some joy to others like they helped me.

Um.. I am horrible with recommendations. I tend to read and watch the same things over and over again. I don’t have a lot of time to read, so it takes me forever to get through things, and then I don’t remember books by their tropes; just how they made me feel. Which is why even badly written things stick with me if I enjoyed myself.

I understand if you have no intentions of touching this series again (you mentioned before how goodreads reviews were saying you just need to get through corrupt and hideaway to get to kill switch, which is so opposite of what I tell readers. If you can’t stand corrupt, quit while you’re ahead), but to catch any of the books or shows I’m into, you’d just have to hang around, unfortunately. No pressure, though. Move on to brighter places if DN talk just doesn’t work for you. Make your fandom places fun.

Thanks for coming back! And thank you for your thoughts. I enjoyed them.

#asked and answered 276 #asked and answered #devil's night series stuff #devil's night series #series discussion #series rant

[seraphtrevs]

You got me thinking about an au where Lalo replaces Gus in BB now. Of course, Lalo could never forgive Walter for killing Tuco, but he is willing to fuck with him for a bit. So when Jimmy sends Walter to him as a potential distributor (let’s say Lalo brokers an uneasy peace between them after surviving point and shoot) he agrees, secretly planning to tear his life down after making a quick buck and learning his recipe.

I think the most interesting plot point could be Lalo and Jesse’s dynamic. Lalo isn’t totally unreasonable so he might decide to forgive him after seeing how dumb of ass he is, and decides to keep him around once he’s done with Walter. Maybe he even sees him as a replacement Nacho, with all his good qualities but a purer, more naive heart less likely to betray him. Lalo might use Jesse to get Mike on his side, since let’s face it, we all know how Lalo feels about that man.

Something I just thought of while writing this- what if Gus isn’t actually dead in this timeline and is being kept prisoner by Eladio, to be tortured and humiliated for the rest of his life. Then he could be a replacement Hector figure and possibly bring Lalo to a similar fate as Gus in canon.

Sorry I'm so late in replying but I have been thinking intensely about this

So let's make BCS canon up until Point and Shoot, with Lalo winning the shoot-out. Having Gus be like Jesse in his Nazi captive era or Hector in the wheelchair (down and out but ready to seize a moment to fight back) is a really interesting idea, but I feel like they don't have a reason to keep him around long term. Lalo mentions that he wishes he and Eladio could have some fun torturing him to death, but he seemed pretty decided on killing Gus right there.

So let's say Lalo kills him. Let's say Mike frees Jimmy, but then Lalo gets in touch with Mike to let him know Gus is dead. Now Lalo has confirmation that Jimmy was working with Gus, along with Nacho (not exactly right, but that's how it would seem to Lalo). Lalo might want to kill Jimmy out of revenge - but his opinion of him is both very low (he's a cockroach) and also pretty high (he's very useful). He might instead decide to make Kim and Jimmy officially cartel lawyers, with the understanding they're dead if they try to get away, and feel pretty confident that Jimmy doesn't have the balls to double cross him. (I mean....he might take Kim as a hostage to ensure good behavior, but I don't like the idea and this is my AU so Kim and Jimmy stay together, with frequent arguments about getting Kim out of New Mexico that never go anywhere.)

I think Lalo would also work something out with Mike. Would he take the deal? I mean, Mike did start working with Walt shortly after he killed Gus, so I think there's a possibility he decides to be pragmatic, even though he hates the Salamancas.

The fallout from Gus's death would be very chaotic - with the loss of Los Pollos Hermanos trucks, the cartel is going to scramble to find a way to get product across the border. Lalo suggests that the cartel takes the superlab for themselves - you don't have to worry about getting product across the border if it's already here! I'm not sure how they would get a hold of it - I mean, who owns it if Gus is dead? But let's just say they're able to buy it - doesn't seem like that would be too hard to accomplish. Lalo would likely return to Mexico since he's a wanted man...but he's also officially dead, so after the heat dies down, he might feel safe returning stateside. No one will be looking for a dead man, after all.

So fast forward to Walt and Jesse arriving on the scene. Lalo wants to kill Walt for his involvement in Tuco's death, but Walt manages to fast talk him into sparing him, explaining that he's an expert meth cook. Lalo decides to keep him alive if he can prove his worth to the cartel...for now, anyway. As soon as he stops being useful, he'll kill him

Lalo gets Walt and Jesse settled in the lab. He witnesses one of their squabbles and makes the same face he made at the mcwexler fight lol. He soon realizes that Jesse is completely capable of doing cooks without Walt - he just needs some gentle encouragement. And once Jesse is completely his, he can finally kill Walt, avenge Tuco, and then make the cartel a kajillion dollars with the mother of all meth labs and his very own twink meth masterchef

#this is the background for my lalo/jesse fic btw #breaking bad #better call saul #asks

[lameghost]

Scream blue murder.

Bonten! x yakuza! leader [part 3]

word count - 2,538

💿 - deathwish by poutyface, to the bone by j.t machinima

Warnings❕- angst + fluff+ suggestive. Mentions of death, sewer slide, drugs, physical and mental abuse.(slight hints of ptsd) Mentions of Izana x reader and others. Spoilers! Bonten arc. Blood and gore. (pinky cutting and mentions of gas poisoning, mass murder.) reader goes berserk! putting a knife in each other's throat? reader is freaky fugg. and also apparently, an expert at chemistry.

[part 1] [part 2]

“So, 12 years… You were gone, just like that and you aren’t gonna say anything, huh? Saying ‘I love you’ like that, ain’t fucking fair, y/n. I missed you for all those years. I searched for you like a madman. Fuck, you didn’t even come by to look for me or shit. You know how fucking miserable I was, after Izana was gone and you too!” Everyone flinched at the sight of the usually calm Kakucho raising his voice. You were surprised too, but you kept on an indifferent facade as you looked down, guilt overwhelmed you.

Kakucho takes a few steps towards you, “I wanna hate you for it but I can’t. You’re too fucking precious to me. The last one I have here, and I thought you were fucking dead.” You did no such attempt to avoid the slap which landed on your face as tears flowed down Kakucho’s face. You heard the faint gasp from all the executives of Bonten. You just kept quiet.

“Hug me, god fucking damn it. I missed you.” With no hesitation, you engulfed him in a hug, basking in his warmth which came into contact with your bare skin. You smiled, relishing the memories of your childhood.

“Fucking hell that was touching as shit.” Sanzu fake cries, deep down he still felt bad since he knew that you were as important to Kakucho as Mikey was to him. Losing you would have meant losing his entire world. In reply, you lifted your middle finger, sticking out your pierced tongue at the pink-haired male. He chuckles slowly.

“Holy shit, yer got piercings, that’s hot, dude.” You nodded at Rindou’s question .

“Show us, I mean your tattoos and piercings.”

“That’s a pretty specific kink you have, Sir Mikey. I mean, I know I look hot as shit but.” He snickered, signalling that he only wants your full identification.

“If you insist, your honour.” You fake sighed as you turned around and began explaining your tattoos.

“29 piercings and last I checked, around 18 or 19 tattoos. Got my first tattoo at 13, illegally. Thank god I didn’t die of infection or some shit. Dude was a nice guy, he even taught me how to take care of a  new tat.” They all gasped, ‘doesn’t that shit hurt you?’. Ran and Rindou who were basically half covered in tattoos were also surprised by your ability to withstand the pain.

“Which one hurt the most though? Your tits or sumn?” Sanzu bluntly asks as he touches the tattoo on your left arm.

“Oh well, yer wanna see? Better pay money though.” You smirked and sent him a wink as you gave him a slight teaser of your tattoo, he blushed. Welp, you broke the dope peddler.

“You’re quite a mystery, aren’t you?” Mikey says, his voice dark and screechy, almost like he has been straining it.

“Your back. That ain’t a tattoo. Someone carved those characters into you.” He traces the Chinese characters on your back. You slightly flinched at the sudden cold touch of his finger. “Only the top brass of Yakuza has this, yeah? Which means, you’re the current hidden leader of the Yakuza. Working for them quietly backstage, is that fun? Don’t you wanna take the credit?” He was inches away from your face, you tilted your head slightly at his demise.

“Take credit? Pftt. Observant but dumb aren’t yer, pretty boy?” You cupped his jaw between your gloved fingers. “I fucking love it when people worship me, bow to me and praise me for all my work but I wouldn’t want my pets to go unrecognised do I? Plus, isn’t it harder to keep myself lowkey from the police that way? I have my plans, baby and I don’t like it when people question me.” You smiled and let go of his jaw, never in his life has he been this stunned by someone’s actions and indifference. This was a first.

“This carving was done by my dad. I was the only child who was able to take over the family business so, here I am. Healthier than ever!” You smiled, highlighting the dimples which brightened your eyes even more under the light which shone above you.

“So, you’ve taken a blood oath?” Kokonoi asks, curious.

“Oh that’s fucken bullshit. We don’t do those. We’re just old delinquents who don’t wanna follow laws, we don’t sacrifice ourselves. I mean that does sound cool though. The most we do is cut our pinky. I’ve cut 12 as of this week,” You sat back down, nonchalantly telling them. You put your suit back on, adjusting the tie.

Bang! A loud gunshot was heard from behind you, in one swift movement, you swooped Ran and Sanzu who were directly in front of you. ‘Top criminal organisers but can’t see a bullet coming their way? Great, fucking idiots.’ You looked down, the bullet grazed by your shoulder slightly. Thank god for that. You picked up the shell and the bullet which landed not far from it. You analysed the bullet, standing up immediately after recognising it. ‘Mauser C96. 0.45 ACP. Made in Germany. Oh fuck, why are they here?’

“Oi, you twinks. Came here to save me or something?” One by one, your members peeked their heads out from behind the oil tanks. Number 2, Tanaka Ryu. This kid has been behind you since juvie days. Once he got out, he looked for you and followed you till the very end even if it meant jumping into hellfire for you.

“If I couldn’t fight, I would have died to these hot dudes, you know? Do we need to practice again? Should I drill it into your brains?” All the members, a good 25 of them, stood at attention, weapons dropped to the floor with their hands behind their back.

“No, your honour!” In unison, their voices echoed one another. Bonten was too stunned to say a thing. Their mouths merely shut tight as your dominant aura overflowed through the entire warehouse.

“Good, and Tanaka, don’t mind, okay? Small mistake. I’m fine, n’ways.”

“Apologies, your honour. Take my pin-” You shushed him as you signalled everyone to get down and ready their weapons. Bonten, who was behind you, followed your command. You gestured for Mikey to come to your side, he slowly strides towards you.

“Mikey, listen. Now, your turf is being infiltrated. You heard that gunshot? Nagant M1895. That strong shit is only used by the Yakuza traitors. Those fuckers have been on my back for the last few months and I need a few extra hands so that I can alert my turf. After that, I’ll help yer. There should be at least 230 of them. 2 top heads and the other 8 executives. The rest are all their lackeys, bad fighting skills but good spirits. Now, we separate, I’ll alert your members too.”

You and Mikey, the leaders, moved into positions immediately. Working together for the first time but it almost seemed as if you’ve worked together for the past 10 years. You stationed Sanzu and your number 3, Haruto, right in front of you. These two are wild and have a few screws loose in their brains, so they make a good pair. They can slaughter some while you make a few alerts to your guards in your territories. You wanted to get it over and done with fast even if it meant, murder. So, you analysed whatever you had in your reach.

“Y/n-chan. What are you doing? I wanna smoke.” Sanzu said, questioning what you were looking at.

“Shush, let me think of a way to get rid of evidence fast and simple.” Haruto drags Sanzu back to their station as they both chat away, swinging the bloodied weapons in their hands. Psychos, I swear.

‘Benzoyl peroxide, TNT, fire extinguisher, bleach, ammonia and diesel.’ Fucking hell, they were making this a bit too easy isn’t it? You called Sanzu and Haruto over to help you. You took the empty tank, putting on your mask before starting and gesturing the two males to do the same. You poured the bleach into the empty tank followed by ammonia.

‘Do you think what you’re doing is right?’ The tiny voice in your head asks. ‘Well these people mass murdered 226 of the Yakuza members, isn’t it only fair?, ‘Of course, but can’t the police punish them?’. ‘What. They hurt me, not the police, I’ll make them save me a seat in hell. Especially that blabbermouth oldie.’, ‘I guess there’s no stopping you, y/n l/n. You’re a murderer after all.’ Wait, what the fuck? I’m not! They did it first, why is it me? Why am I to blame? Fuck, fuck you. ‘You’re a murderer by nature, y/n. That’s why your Mom and Dad passed this onto you.’ Shut up. They’re dead, they are just ashes, seeping into earth or maybe being swallowed by maggots. Those 2 are dead to me. ‘Your mom isn’t dead. Not yet.’ Well, I want her dead. ‘You gonna kill her, too? Like what you did to your old man? You’re naive, a pretty soul, one that I would kill to dirty but you already did it yourself.’

You halted your movements, Sanzu and Haruto stared wide-eyed at your face. Your face contorted with rage, aura screaming murder at them. This brings Sanzu back to 12 years ago when- nevermind. “Earth to y/n, we gonna continue?”

“Haruchiyo. Katana. Haruto, pass him your pistol, I’ll be right back.” ‘You’re gonna regret it, y/n.’

“SHUT UP! HOLY FUCK SHUT THE FUCK UP! UGH!” You let out an indignant roar, making Kakucho and Mikey halt their movements as they continued throwing punches to the opposing team. Kakucho ran towards you, covered in blood which did not belong to him.

“Hey, y/n. Hey, look at me.” You looked at him, tears of anger welling up in your eyes. (You can only cry when you’re angry but not when you’re sad.) He pats your back, telling you to kick some ass to relieve your anger. Well, that was your green light.

You swung the Katana out from your back which had a strap, tailor made for you to store katanas. As always, pecking the handle beforehand, showing respect. ‘About 104 left, gonna be easy.’ The rest of your members and Bonten members along with the executives gathered, wanting to watch you fight. It was almost like a playback of 12 years ago.

You dropped the katana to the floor, jumping onto the first person you see, hanging from the shoulder. You swung around, possibly breaking his spine and picked up two other men by their collars. Swinging them towards the tower of diesel tanks, you made your way to your next victims.

“So, pick yer death.” You smirked, but your eyes were empty and lifeless. Your bloodthirsty aura engulfed the entire warehouse, stripping the audience off any form of excitement. The male approached you, in a split second, he was inches from your face.

“HAHAHAAHA, you’re fast but you lack experience, sweetheart.” You caressed his face, voice coated full of sinister but in his ears, it was like honey. It gave his brain whiplash how contrasting your voice was to your actions. Without batting an eye or even giving him room to recover from your touch, your left leg flew forward. Landing directly onto the wound of his temple, plunging onto the floor. You took the chance to take a seat on his back.

You rummaged through his pockets, stopping when you found his phone. You dialed a number, the others stared at you curious. “I need about, uhh, 7, no, 8 ambulances, for the Shibuya area. The warehouse down the second turn. Thank yer!” You smiled and threw the phone across the room.

“Now, there’s only… let me see… 3 of you left. Rock, paper, scissors. Winner gets to pick the lucky one.” You signaled them to start playing, with trembling figures, the 3 males began playing. You placed the lit cigarette in between your lip, enjoying others misery.

“She’s kinda hot, though.” You heard Sanzu whistling and howling from behind you as you exhaled the smoke and took off your blazer, rolling up your sleeves. You sent a kiss his way as you made your way to the poor male - a prisoner of his own bad luck.

“Hey, mister. Long time no see. I’m bigger now, if you can’t clearly see.” You subtly flaunt, towering over the male before you. You bent lower so you could make direct eye contact with him. The eye contact sent cold shivers down his spine which made him froze, his lips quivered as you moved your gloved finger, gliding down his tattooed back.

“Oi, mister. I’m talking to you, it’s rude to not reply to your master, y’know? It kinda hurts my feelings,” You faked your sadness, pretending to sob into his shoulders. If he wasn’t already stiff, he is now officially the statue of liberty.

“Y-yes, your honour!”

“Good pet. Now, let me get my work done. You know what happens to traitors, don’t you? Perverted old man.” You removed the kunai which was secured tightly in the pocketed garter which hung from your thigh. You simpered, looking pleased at the amount of fear you could elicit from the pathetic man.

“AHHHHHHHH!” He writhed in pain, screaming blue murder.

“Okay, that was the last one! 12 plus 10 equals 22! 22 pinkies!” You giggled, cracking a smile from your scarred mouth. A horrifying sight, it was.

“Fuck, didn’t know you were capable of such cruel shit.” Ran sends a surprised look, scanning you up and down as you wiped the blood off your gloves and chuckled.

“Born and bred to do this shit.”

You knew you were done but there was some unsettling feeling that irked your senses, but what was it? Could it be you forgot something-

“We’ll take over from here, as an apology and a thank you for not murdering us.” Mikey said, a small smile on his face.

“Oh no, it was great working with you, Sir Mikey.”

“Don’t call me that, on god, I’ll put a knife in your throat.”

“Do it then, it’s not a threat Mikey. ” Your little bicker was put to a stop when Kokonoi seemingly  ‘cleared his throat’ loudly.

“So, you’re a professional torturer, a sugar mommy, free show stripper, yakuza leader, a mass murderer, chemist and now, a hooker. What else do we not know about you?” Kokonoi asked, voice laced with curiosity. His eyebrows raised as his eyes searched for answers in yours.

“Oh darling, I’m a walking unsolved mystery. Yer wanna find out? Yer gotta dig deep into the layers of this earth. Yer wanna solve me still?”

“Yeah, I do.” The short, purple haired spoke up. (You forgot his name.)

“Oh then, put on a raincoat. This year’s theme is bloody halloween. Wouldn’t want blood staining yer expensive suits.” You stuck out your tongue, making a move as sirens filled the quiet warehouse. 

‘Roppongi, Don Quijote, 31st October, 9 P.M. Be there or else you owe me candy.’ The boys chuckled, making a run as the police broke in.

#tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers fic #bonten #toman #kakucho x you #izana #tokyo revengers angst #ran haitani #tokyo revengers rindou #mikey #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x you smut #sanzu haruchiyo #akashi takeomi #kokonoi x you #bonten kakucho #bonten kokonoi #bonten sanzu #bonten ran #bonten rindou #bonten mikey #izana headcanons #mikey x you #tokyo revengers scenarios

[buckys-little-hoe]

bad idea | Pietro x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Pietro x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was a bad idea. You should have never played with fire but maybe you like to get burned.

Warnings: It has a bit Smut, so there are vaginas, penises and butts. Mention of a knife. Reader drinking Alcohol. Angsty. Paprikash.

A/N: I just couldn’t get myself to write something longer, I hope you guys forgive me. Also I haven’t read over it yet but wanted to publish it. So there may be mistakes (Like always lol)

-

“Shut up.”, you groan and turn around. But it’s not possible to concentrate on your file if that dumbass always bothers you. You don’t even know why he does that, you never did anything to him, which is a wonder considering how much you like to fool around. But he… He was different, because he didn’t fool around, he straight up started a war without any reason. 

No matter where you were, he was always around, making nasty comments about you that made your blood boil. Saying that you were just another pretty face, not even knowing what you are capable of. It is nerve wracking. You just always hold back. You are an Avenger because you wanna do the right thing, not because you need to prove something to someone. So you always bite your lip, acting like you don’t care even though deep down you do. “What are you trying to do anyway? Poison us?”, he asks with his dumb accent that makes you swoon. It really shouldn’t. Pietro is an ass, he has a loud mouth, always stating his opinion - which would be good, if it wouldn’t be always something negative about you. Truth be told, he has a loud mouth but he knows how to best use it. For some reason you lay under him almost every night and for some other reason he doesn’t want others to know, which is why he talks about you so badly. And it works. He probably doesn’t want them to know because everyone sees you as the innocent, naive little girl. If they’d know, they would probably kill him. Especially Tony, Bucky and Steve seem to see you as someone that needs protection, just because they know how guys tick. And maybe they are right, because Pietro treats you like shit outside of his room. But you love it, the roughness, the tension just everything. And you’d do anything for the amazing Sex, even acting like you despise your secret lover. “I thought you knew better, Maximoff. I’d only poison you.” You smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Of course, prinţesă.”, he answers sarcastically and reaches for the wooden spoon. You slap his hand away. “Don’t you dare.”, you say softly but angriness sparkles in your eyes. He just puts his hands up, grins and backs slowly away, only to bump into Wanda. “Oh sorry, Wanda.” He swallows and leaves the kitchen. “Is he doing it again?”, she asks and you adore her sweetness. She found out about you two pretty quickly. How couldn’t she? Always reading other people's thoughts, like c’mon, where’s the fun in that? She also learned pretty quickly that there is no way to talk you out of this. Not when you made up your mind already. You’re really stubborn. “Yup. Do you wanna taste it?”, you reply with a shrug, not wanting to show how bad it makes you feel. “Sure!” The red haired girl smiles and takes a spoon. She takes a bit of your creation and tastes it. “Mhhhm. Maybe some more Paprikash.” She gives you her advice and you nod. “Good idea, Wanda.” So you add more.

-

Soft moans escape your parted lips as he leaves your mouth to trail kisses down your body. “Such pretty noises for me, prinţesă.”, he mumbles, his accent even heavier. You automatically press your thighs together to release some friction, but he parts them with only one hand. “Please…”, you whisper, desperately for his touch. You’d take anything he would give to you. “You’re so needy, Y/N.” He grins while falling on his knees. He puts one of your legs over his shoulder and softly kisses your covered heat. You gasp and pull on a few silver strands of hair. “Did I say you’re allowed to touch me?”, he says sternly. You shake your head. “No… You did not.” He stands up again and grips your jaw. “Stupid little thing. Forgetting the rules.”, he grumbles. You look into his eyes, trying to find an answer for all of this, but is there even one? “Wanted to make you a little gift, but you don’t deserve it…” He harshly pulls on your hair, turns you around and bends you over his desk. Pens are pressing into your skin and it hurts but you like it. You love it. You can feel his hand lingering on your waist, while the other one is tangled in your hair. “You’re gonna come all over my cock, huh? Because you’re my little cockslut, right Y/N?’, he asks, slightly rubbing his covered erection over your wet pussy. “Fuck…”, you mumble, almost drooling on the wood. “Fuck!”, you now shriek when he slaps your ass harshly. “I want an answer, prinţesă.” “Yes, I am your cockslut, Pietro!”, you answer and he softly rubs over his handmark on your ass. “Good girl.” And when he pulls your soaked panties to the side you quickly hold on to the edge of the desk. “Gonna fill you up so good.”, he murmurs and grinds down on you. You moan at the feeling of his bulge, covered in jeans. 

-

The next morning you stand in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the team, completely forgetting the hand marks on your neck. Normally you’d cover them with your hair but today you forget and put your hair up in a messy bun. “I’m hopelessly devoted to you.”, you sing quietly to the tune that comes out of your headphones, being completely oblivious to your friends standing in the doorway, discussing the mark. “She’s a grown ass woman, Tony.”, Natasha sighs, trying to defend you. “But what if it came from a fight or something?”, Steve says concerned. Wanda raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “You do know that she is capable of defending herself?” You slowly sink your head, one headphone hanging in your shirt now. “We know, Wanda. It’s just horrifying to think that someone would touch her like that.” Bucky interferes now.  “Maybe she just likes rough Sex.”, Natasha says sternly, hoping that the discussion would end now. “As if anyone would touch her. At least not without disinfecting every two seconds.”, Pietro jokes and your heart drops. That stung. Secretly you grab a bottle of wine, knowing exactly what to do. You let the knife fall into the sink and walk to your bathroom, not turning around once. Wanda tries to walk after you but you hurl her back with your powers. You stopped caring, only wanting to numb the pain. So you lock the door, sit down in the bathtub and open the bottle, pouring everything down your throat. You let your head fall onto the edge, directly glancing into the mirror on the ceiling. Your nose is red and tears glisten in your eyes. You just let them roll down, knowing that this isn’t the first time, but it’ll definitely be the last time your heart got broken.

#marvel #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff x y/n #pietro maximoff x you #pietro maximoff x fem!reader #platonic!avengers x reader #platonic!avengers x you #platonic!avengers x y/n #pietro maximoff smut #pietro maximoff angst #mcu #pietro maximoff oneshot

[old-memoria]

Russians deserve this tbh. Don’t invade your neighbors but you never learn.Now this is what you get when you mess with the whole planet. 😊 if you tolerate Putin’s regime you’re a terrorist. You chose him you pay the price 😘 we don’t need you in America, Canada, Britain anywhere. Don’t make us die in a nuclear war because of you. Americans stand for peace. We stand for Ukraine 💙💛

Ok so this is a lengthy reply, if you’re not interested in the issue, ingnore this right away. I’ve been getting a lot of shit lately:

From now on I’m not going to reply to degenerates like these anons. Ig they were infuriated by this post. Still I have something to say (just in case you have at least a tiny amount of gray matter to process information)

I’ve never called Americans dumb or ignorant. I never define the nation by the actions/ words of some braindead cunts. What im saying does not apply no normal American people (aka the majority) who have respect and compassion for the tragedy which is happening overseas. I don’t give a flying fuck if I sound rude and if your feelings are hurt, but I’m REALLY absolutely done with your pathetic whining on Twitter/ tik tok etc about how you are going to die in a stupid war, how you’re going to be nuked, how Russia will invade the US or vice versa. SHUT UP. Repeat after me: it’s not about the US. Biden and NATO officials have already said they are not going to interfere with the Russian invasion. Americans won’t be drafted, neither ordinary people, nor the us army. Take a deep breath and chill. If you don’t know much about the origins of this conflict and what’s going on atm (tbh nobody knows for sure), don’t spread misinformation. If you genuinely want to help, donate to Ukrainian charity or your local Ukrainian diaspora instead of sending ‘thought and prayers ✨’. Also, I don’t think you care that much about Ukrain if you call it a ‘remote shithole’... be honest with yourself. You don’t care. Just fucking don’t. You are worried about your ass being drafted so you won’t be able to drink ice latte and watch Netflix any more. That’s it

I know it’s rather pointless even to try to explain anything, but I won’t give up. I hope, despite your privilege, you still have a glimpse empathy left. So what do we have for now?

Ukraine: Ukrainian cities (Kyiv, Kharkiv, Donetsk, Odessa etc. fucking google it) are being BOMBED every day. People have to hide in the basements or in subway, because these are the only safe places. My uncle has been living in the basement for 5 days. He can’t escape to his home city (Lviv), because the roads are blocked and shelled. Violence and shootings are almost everywhere in those cities (and it’s not going to be over any soon). PEOPLE ARE DYING. Fyi Kyiv is the capital and the larger city with approximately 3 million people living there. And it’s being bombed every day. There were air raid alerts in the other, relatively safe places. Leaving your house to buy food is life fucking threatening, can you imagine that? Men of your (and my) age are being drafted and their mothers may never see them again. My 2 cousins (25 and 27) were already drafted. My cousin’s college mate was killed in Kharkiv because his house was accidentally hit by the missle strike. And sadly, very sadly, it doesn’t seem to end soon. No one will win this war

Russia: guess fucking what... we are affected by this war too. Morally, financially and physically. A lot of Russians, including myself, have relatives and friends in Ukraine (every third, I’d say). This war is very personal and painful to us. I don’t know a single fucking person who supports it. I remember Thursday, when the war was declared early in the morning... everyone was shell shocked. People still are angry, disappointed and frustrated. We are pissed our money is being wasted on murdering innocent civillians and invading other countries. Don’t be too naive, protests won’t change anything, the authorities don’t give a fuck about a bunch of people with no leader and power. Only the oligarchs and elites can overthrow the current government. Please, go tell somebody else how WE elected OUR president.. I’m not even going to comment on it, reddit experts from some fucking Idaho know better yeah. As for the sanctions.. they mean slow death. Middle class will very soon become poor. Economy is already in ruins, and it’s going to be worse and worse. Prices in grocery stores are already incredibly high, I couldn’t believe my eyes today, everything, even essential products, is 20% more expensive now. The government has no means to support economy and they have already said they are not going to provide financial help or tax credits for small business (literally fuck you). People will fucking starve soon. Also, a lot of western companies have withdrawn from the Russian market. For example, my friend’s sister works in a pharmacy and she says there won’t be any foreign medical products, including basic and life-saving medicines, from now on. She’s not the only one who says it. People will literally have to survive, because the collapse of economy and it will affect everyone. There is no way we can escape from this wasteland of a country, since now we are isolated from the outer world. I wish I could migrate to Canada or Australia, but they don’t even issue visas at this point. Tbh moving away might be even dangerous now because of overwhelming Russophobia. 2 days ago my friend was assaulted in London for talking on her phone in Russian, kids with russian last names are being bullied in Latvian schools, some Russian cuisine restaurants were looted in the US. I don’t know is it better to be unemployed broke and starving in my own country or become a subhuman in a pRoGrEssIvE western society (and I’m not even an ethic Russian)? If you think that the ordinary Russian people deserve this and should pay for the government’s decisions, may I spit at your face for Afghanistan/ Iraq and Yugoslavia? Or is it suddenly a different matter?

So please, quit your moronic ww3 hysteria. Don’t be a scumbag, stop hyping on grief and death of other humans. I can’t believe this must be said in the 21st century

P. S. The mere fact that I’m writing this and expressing my anti-war rage is dangerous for me, because freedom of speech does not exist and according to the government’s narrative if you do not support this bloodshed you’re a traitor

#it’s tured our to be too lengthy but I don’t care. I’m not going to explain it again any more #well if at least one person changes their mind after reading this #then the word will be a better place

[ioon]

Shigaraki x Reader (nsfw)

It’s Just a Game

Content:

- creampie - degrading language - rough sex -

“Aha!! Finally! Eat dirt Shiga!”

“Goddamn it (Y/n) I swear-“

Shigaraki bit back something vulgar, you could tell by how he stopped himself, but you couldn’t help but laugh instead. It was fun watching him get cranky, his ego cracking every time you beat him in his favorite game. It's about time someone knocked him down a few pedestals.

“Oh sorry what was that?” You leaned in closer to him, pretending like you didn’t hear what he just said, “I can’t hear you over how I just kicked your ass.” You laughed louder, dramatically kicking your feet in the air. Yeah sure you were being extra, but fuck it, am I right?

He sucked his teeth in response, tossing the controller across the messy room. “Shut the fuck up.” He said bitterly, and you dramatically clutched your chest, mouthing the words ‘owch.’ He rolled his eyes, “You just got lucky, there’s nothing to it.”

“So I got lucky four times in a row then, huh?” You smiled smugly at him, and he snarled.

“Keep talking and-“

“You’ll beat me at another game? Yeah save it.” You stood, tossing the controller onto the pillow you sat on, “While you’re busy sulkin’ imma get a snack, a winner does deserve some R&R, dontcha think?”

“Get the fuck out before I kill you.”

You let out a cheesy ‘teehee’ before sticking your tongue out and leaving.

••

You stretched as you made your way back in the room with a full belly, turns out Kurogiri had some good grub hiding away. Now? You were in for a nap. Throwing your body onto Shigaraki’s bed, you cuddled one of the many pillows he had and huffed, he would just have to sleep on the floor tonight. You were just about to fall into a much needed slumber until your body was suddenly flipped, and without much time to react, your hands were bound to the headboard. “What the fuuuuck?” Is all you could let out as you squint to see who dared to straddle your waist, and to little to no surprise it was- drumroll please… Shigaraki. “What in the hell are you doing?” You barked, yanking at the belt that ruthlessly dug into your skin.

“Playing a game I know I can beat you in.”

“Are you kidding? And what’s that huh?” You asked, completely naive to his intentions, “How am I even going to play a game like thi”

“God you’re such a dumb bitch.” He smirked to himself, and you couldn’t help but close your legs at the rude remark, “Not even sure how you beat me so many times that being true, but that doesn’t matter now.”

His hand gripped your hair, yanking it back while he leaned in close, his voice raspy, “I bet you’re wondering what this game is, hm?”

You groaned, bucking your hips in hopes to toss him off you, but it didn’t do anything, which did not surprise you. “God! What is it already? And your yanking hurts.!” You yelped, and he only pulled harder, causing teardrops to sting the corners of your eyes.

“So impatient, but fine, whoever cums first, loses.”

“What?” you choked out nervously.

“I know you fucking heard me.” He snapped back, and he was right, you did hear him, but you couldn’t quite grasp it, the same goes for the bulged you felt poking into your stomach, everything was moving too fast, and happening too suddenly. “You wanna be a bratty bitch huh?” His words pulled you from your thoughts as he nipped at your throat, leaving red bite marks down your exposed neck, you whimpered in response, legs softly kicking underneath him

“Shigaraki you’ve.. you’ve gotta be kidding me.! We can just play another video game you nerd!” You huffed, trying to shake your head- but the rough hand gripping your hair didn’t let you move without wincing.

“Shut up before I gag you.”

You closed your mouth, lips pressed tightly together as you squirmed underneath him- but instead of getting off, his hand held your shirt, all five, disintegrating the fabric, leaving you exposed to the cool air, and his gaze. “I’ll never get used to this.” he mumbled to himself, his hand ridding of your bra next, and soon you were completely bare.

You gasped, “This is embarrassing Shiga.!”

“Mm yeah it is..” he finally moved his hand from your hair, but quickly put them to use by exploring your body. His rough fingers prickled your skin, sending gentle shivers up your spine. “God you’re so fucking sexy..”

You felt your cheeks heat up, “You’ve seen me a thousand times alrea- ah!” His hands gripped your breasts, fondling and kneeding at your soft tits, all the while he put his mouth to work; tongue swirling around your already hard nipple, sucking on the bud before biting ever so softly. You let out soft moans, your back arching at the much wanted attention and for fucks sake why was this nerd so good at this.. you couldn’t help but rub your legs together, desperate for any type of friction while Shigaraki slurped and kissed your breasts hungrily.

“I love your tits..”

You quivered, rolling your hips against Shiga’s, his blunt words doing things to you, “Please just.. fuck me already..” You begged, something you hated doing but- today was an acception. You didn’t give two shits about this little game he was playing, all you wanted now was his cock stretching you out.

“So eager to lose, too bad you don’t have a say in shit (y/n).” You felt his breathy laugh heat up your wet chest before he sat up, shuffling to where his crotch was just below your breasts.

“What’re you-“

“Can you be more naive?” He unzipped his pants, his thick cock springing out as he freed himself, “I’m gonna fuck your tits.” With that his hands worked at the belt tying you down, “Hold your tits together, tightly.” He commanded, and you listened.

“After this..” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, “you’ll.. fuck me.. right.?”

“Hmm..” he looked down at you, haphazardly stroking his cock, your hands pressing your pretty tits together, puppy eyes staring up at him. Fuuuck.. did you look delicious.. if he didn’t set that stupid ass rule, he would be balls deep in your cunt. “We’ll see.” He replied dryly, hands moving to grip the headboard for support as he pushed his cock in between your breasts, his hips moved slowly, slicking the tight space with his precum before he slowly picked up the pace. He shuddered when you pressed harder against him, practically milking his cock. “Ah.. if you’re a good little slut then.. mmh.. then maybe.”

You whined, feeling your cunny gush as you watched your boyfriend’s dick fuck your tits. You wanted more.. you wanted his cum.

Your tongue stuck out and opened wide, lifting your head slightly to catch the tip of his cock in your mouth, sucking up whatever musky precum leaked out.

You felt him buck, his hips snapping forward whenever he pulled back. “Oh fuck you’re such a whore.. a little slut.” He growled, the sight of you desperately trying to get him off.. did things to him, “You like that huh? Me using your tits as my fucktoy?” He thrusted harder, and you moaned in response. “Use your fucking words.”

“Yes.. yes I like it..” you said shyly, “I like it when you use me.. Tomura..”

Something in him snapped, the way you said his name, how you practically moaned it.. “Fuckfuckfuck..!” He groaned loudly, throwing his head back, the want- no, the need to cum all over you overcame him. Fuck this who ever cums first loses shit, tonight he was going to decorate your body with his seed.

You could only let out tiny whimpers as your boyfriend leaked all over you, “Fuck (Y/n)” he looked down at you, “open wide for me, m’ so close..” he breathed out, and you complied, your mouth widened as you gazed up at him, doughy eyes practically begging for it. “Fuck… yeah.. keep looking at me like that whore..”

His thrusts became sloppier, desperate as he chased his own release, and soon enough it came- or should I say he came. Thick ropes of cum spewed out of his slit, most of the milk landing on your tongue, but it still covered your tits and face. He slowed down, dragging out his thrusts as you squeezed and sucked out any cum that stuck to his tip. “You’re such a good fucking girl, you know that right?” He growled out before getting off you, his cock somehow still hard. “Now strip slut.”

Your face couldn’t get redder as you peeled off your thin shorts, along with your soaked panties. He hummed in approval, “Hands and knees, stick your ass out too, like a good girl.” You huffed, all these commands.. but you listened, flipping to your tummy and pushing yourself up, your ass in the air.

“Come on Tomura…” you mumbled, “Pleaaseee..”

A hard slap came down on your cheeks, leaving them stinging, “Shut the fuck up bitch. God, why are you so needy?” His hands roughly gripped your waist, long unkept fingernails digging into your plush skin as he held you still. “Who’s cock are you a slut for, hm?” You felt his wet tip slick against your pussy, rubbing against your hard clit teasingly.

Your back arched, making an attempt to push yourself against his cock, fuck if he wasn’t holding you down right now.. “Please To-“ another slap met your ass, interrupting your pathetic pleading.

“You don’t listen do you?”

You pushed your face into his pillow guiltily, he groaned annoyingly in response, he was tired of playing. How his cock twitched against your entrance, craving to fill you to the brim while he watched you beg for it to end.. shit..

He couldn’t wait.

His thick cock pushed into you, stretching out your tight little cunny, “You feel so good..” he groaned, slowly inching farther into you.

Your pussy felt full already, he had no right to have this big of a dick… you gripped the blankets underneath you, pulling gently as you moaned out.

You heard him whimper as your walls twitched around him, he sat there for a moment before thrusting ruthlessly, catching you by surprise. “F-fuck.!” You cried out, your body bouncing as he slipped in and out of your cunny. His cock went impossibly deeper every time he met your waist, the room filling with lewd sounds of your pussy being fucked and your desperate moans.

“P-please.! Tomura.! Too.. too fast..” you whimpered, his cock kissing your cervix every time he thrusted in, shaping your cunny to fit him perfectly.

“Fuuck..!” His hand came down on your sore ass, again, and again, and again, you were crying by the time he finished. Your tears staining the pillow under you as he fucked you senseless, the pain and pleasure leaving you in a stupor. “That’s what a slut like you gets.” He grunted, his hips moving impossibly faster, “You asked for this didn’t you? For your boyfriend to fuck the shit out of this sloppy pussy?”

“Mmh..! Ah! More.! Make me..” you whimpered, your hips bucking against him, “please make me cum..”

He gladly took the invitation, reaching his hand to your dripping cunt, “You’re so damn horny aren’t you..” he growled into your ear, “Your juices are practically wetting the bed… just begging to be used more..”

Your back arched against him as his finger rubbed your clit, slowly swirling around the hard bud while he rutted against you. You couldn’t do anything but tremble and whimper, your sweet cunny twitching around his thrusting cock, his fingers adding to the much welcomed pleasure.

You could feel it coming, your body began to tense, eyes rolling as your mouth gaped open. “Yes.! Yesyes..!!” Your legs clenched around Tomura’s wrist as he sped up, finger rolling roughly against your clit as his thrusts continued to be unforgiving, his own release just around the corner.

“M’ gonna fill you up (y/n), god you’re gonna be so full when I’m done..” he cooed, nibbling at your neck greedily.

Shit.. a wave of intense pleasure ran through you, your toes curling all the while pathetic moans filled the room, Tomura’s fingers slowly riding out your climax, the rough pads of his finger gently pressing on your clit, all the while his cock did the same, his pace slowing, letting you fall from your high.

You were left tired, your chest falling to the bed below, your arms too weak to keep yourself up, “Thank you… thank you Tomura..” you mumbled, your mind in a daze as he slicked his finger along your cunny one more time before bringing it to your mouth. You didn’t think twice before opening up to suck on his digits, tongue swirling around his fingers, lathering your tongue with your own musky-sweet taste.

You heard him whisper something, but that didn’t matter, his thrusts picked up the pace again, hands once again digging into your waist as he bottomed out in your cunny, his balls slapping against your sensitive clit sent shocks up your spine, waking you up immediately. “N-Nghh!!” You let out choked whines as he used you, your body bouncing embarrassingly against him.

“Fuck I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum (y/n)..” he grunted, his breath loud and heavy as he threw his head back, your pussy feeling hot and tight around his cock, no matter how many times he fucked you stupid. His nails dug painfully in your flesh again, you could feel your skin aching as he gripped you.

“Please.. please.. cum..”

Your words snapped something inside of him; his thrusts became sporadic, sloppy even as you felt thick hot pools of cum fill you. He pumped a few more times, your little pussy milking him greedily as his seed began to spill from your tight hole, a lewd mess of both of your juices staining the sheets.

“Fuuuck (y/n)...” he hummed lowly, pulling out slowly to watch all his cum spill out of you, the sudden emptiness making you whine. You expected him to lay next to you but instead he spread your cheeks to get a better view, your twitching hole gaping, leaking. “God you’re so sexy.. can you cum for me one more time?”

His lips met your cunny suddenly, causing your hips to buck sharply. He sloppily slurped up everything you spilled, and soon he worked at your clit, tongue rolling against it, swirling longingly. “F-Fuck!!” You yelped, this was- way too much, “Tomura I- I can’t, no.!” You pleaded, clearly overstimulated, but he couldn’t care less. Instead of listening, he sucked harshly on the hard bud, leaving you squirming under his mouth.

“God.. you taste good with my cum in you..” he mumbled, kissing your cunny before dragging a long tripe up your folds, he was greedy, “You’re gonna cum on my face,” he slapped your ass harshly, gripping it afterwards, “you hear me bitch?”

You whimpered pathetically, too blinded by Tomura’s tongue slipping against you to respond. It didn’t take long before you were biting the pillow under you, feeling your cunny tighten as his tongue made short thrusts in and out your pussy. The familiar feeling engulfed you, pure bliss swallowed you while as you came on his mouth, your cunt gushing all over his face.

“Mm (y/n) you did so good..” sat up, letting your hips fall as he laid beside you, “for a stupid bitch in heat that is.” He said cockily as his arm pulled you close, your tired body laying against him.

“Oh just.. shut up..” you groaned annoyingly. The temptation to roll to the other side of the bed nicked at you- but if you were honest, his warm body flush against yours made you feel nice. “You still lost your own game..” you murmured.

“Fucking smartass.” He gripped your chin, forcing you to face him, “Even after I made you feel like bliss, you’re still a fucking pain in the ass.”

His lips met yours, it was a sweet, simple kiss before he let you go, allowing your head to rest on his forearm.

“You still love me though..” you said tiredly.

“.. Sure sure, go to sleep already.”

#my hero academy fanfiction #fanfic #mha smut #smut #bnha smut #boku no hero x reader #bnha x reader #x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki smut

[trashyswitch]

Dark Interrogations (With a Light Spin)

Roman gets interrogated for the robbery of a hoodie, a hat and a deodorant. Remus, Janus and Virgil work together to make Roman confess to his crimes and admit as to their location...

This has the 'tickle interrogation' trope going for it so if you're uncomfortable with that, I am very sorry. There are also some swear words, so you have been warned.

This fanfic goes out to @smileheart110 on Tumblr. Link

This fanfic also goes out to @kennabelee because I wanna. XD

So Smileheart and Kenna, I hope you both (and others) enjoy!

A pair of high heels could be heard echoing through the room...a paper was shuffled with...and a pencil was heard being used despite the pitch black darkness.

“Roman ‘Princey’ Sanders…” Someone said.

The name called, hummed in confusion as he registered who the voice belonged to.

“...What in royalty are you doing, Library boy?” Roman asked.

“Oh...Right I forgot he could recognize our voice.” The person admitted.

“We have the same voice.” Someone else said.

“I’m gonna turn on the liiiight~” someone else said before switching on a lamp. Roman squinted at how surprisingly bright the lamp was. He expected one of those modern lights with the slow build up to brightness. You know, the eco-friendly ones? But nope. Not here. The voices of the ‘strangers’ didn’t always have a green thumb.

Roman looked up at the faces that were staring him down. One of them was holding a clipboard and a pencil. Another one was holding pieces of paper. And the last one was giving him the death glare with a small box in his hand.

“Welcome to the interrogation room. You can refer to me as Deceit...Or Janus, if you want to.” Janus started.

“You can refer to me as Virgil...I prefer it that way. No ‘emo’, no ‘panic at the everywhere’, and no ‘kitty cat’ either. I’ve heard you and your list.” Virgil warned.

“And I’m starving.” Remus admitted.

Virgil sighed. “Remus we know.” Virgil growled.

“Can we hurry this up?” Remus asked. “I haven’t had my hourly deodorant because SOMEONE STOLE IT!” Remus smacked his hand onto the desk to scare him.

But hilariously enough, Roman didn’t even flinch. “Awww, boo hoo.”

Remus looked at Janus. “Can I slap him with your heel?” Remus asked.

“NO.” Janus and Virgil both shot back.

“Dammit…” Remus muttered.

“Heel?!” Roman looked down and sure enough, Janus was wearing heels. “...Huh…”

“Eyes up here asshole.” Virgil ordered. “Where are our things?” Virgil asked.

“What things?” Roman asked, pretending to be naive.

Virgil slammed a paper onto the table, revealing the hoodie...But the picture used to represent it, looked really poor quality.

Roman smirked. “Did you get that from clipart or something?” Roman asked.

Janus sighed. “It was the best we could do. Please stay focused.” Janus told him.

“Where is it?!” Virgil asked.

“Chill out man! I didn’t mess with your hoodies!” Roman reacted.

“It’s ONE hoodie, and it’s MISSING. And you’re the only one dumb enough to take it.” Virgil spat.

“Emo.” Roman spat back with a smirk.

“Prick in my ass.” Virgil shot back.

“Oooooh! Okay, boogeyman~” Remus teased.

“Ew!” Virgil turned to Remus. “Don’t you dare use your serial killer references on me!” Virgil ordered.

“Sorry, sorry…I’m just hangry…” Remus admitted.

“Really? What a surprise…” Janus muttered.

Roman chuckled. “Someone should make a tv show based on all of you.” Roman reacted.

“Brooklyn 99 is the equivalent of that already.” Virgil reminded him.

Virgil placed another paper down. “What about this? Where is it?” Virgil asked.

Roman sighed and looked down. This time, it was a picture of deodorant...but it had a leaf on the label with the word ‘Peppermint’ on the front. Roman guffawed. “No, I haven’t seen Remus’s ‘peppermint’ deodorant!” Roman laughed.

Janus blinked and checked the label. “Oh...Oops.” Janus admitted. “Anyway-” Janus placed the paper down. “You know what we really mean in this situation. Where is it?” Janus asked.

“I don’t know. I thought you hid it with your magic?” Roman replied, looking at Remus.

Janus sighed. “And as you can tell, this:” Janus showed a colored picture of Roman holding his hat, with the bowler hat circled with a red marker. “Where is my hat?”

Roman giggled and changed his voice. “Look! I’m Woody! Howdy Howdy Howdy!” He imitated.

Janus snapped his fingers and pointed at him. “AHA! So you DID steal it!” Janus declared. “And that means you stole everything else TOO!” Janus yelled.

“Whaaaat...if I was simply making a reference?” Roman asked.

“You weren’t.” All three interrogators said at the exact same time.

Roman’s smirk dropped. They really could read through his tricks…

“Where’s. Our. Stuff. Roman?” Janus asked, leaning forward to glare at Roman closely.

“Up. Your. Scaled. Tushy.” Roman spat back.

“Alright get the tools.

“Tools?! Seriously?!” Roman reacted.

“Yes, of course! We need to scare our thief into confessing to their most evil crimes known to man!” Remus told him. “Stealing. Our. Precious. Props.” Remus told him.

Virgil pulled out a toothbrush and clicked a button to turn it on. The electric tooth brush started humming and vibrating, leaving Roman confused. “You’re...gonna brush my teeth to death?” Roman guessed.

Virgil giggled evilly. “Think again, Ro.” While Janus held Roman’s hands behind his back, Virgil walked closer to Roman, pulled up a stool and brought the humming toothbrush closer to Roman’s belly button.

The toothbrush had only lowered a couple inches from his belly, when Roman started whining and biting his lip. “Ohohoho noho, you’re worse than yzma.” Roman muttered with a slight wobbly smile growing onto his lips.

“So...Where...is our stuff Ro?” Virgil asked.

“I-I don’t know!” Roman replied.

It was then that Roman SCREAMED and wiggled around as the toothbrush landed right into his belly button.

“I hope you like tickles, Princey~” Virgil teased. “Cause this is gonna last a while if you don’t confess.” Virgil added.

“WAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE! NOT THEHEHEREHEHEHE!” Roman begged already.

“Woooow! Begging already?” Remus reacted. “I’m surprised! You can defeat a giant dragon witch, but you can’t handle a little tickwing to the bewwy button?” Remus teased.

Roman tugged on his arms to try and get out as his belly button was tormented with only a single little circular toothbrush. Man, being ticklish sucked right now!

Virgil stopped the electric toothbrush, but kept the toothbrush in his belly button. While this was happening, Janus leaned into Roman’s ear and clicked his tongue. “You gonna tell me where the stuff is?” Janus asked softly.

Roman felt tingles down his spine from both the hot air against his ear, and the super soft voice Janus was using.

Roman looked towards the ear Janus was whispering into. “Jeez, you could do an ASMR video or an ASMR channel if you wanted to! Holy crap!” Roman reacted.

“Answer the question.” Janus ordered with a more stern voice.

Roman looked at Virgil and Remus. “Guys...I seriously don’t know.” Roman told them.

“He’s lying. Vir-”

“Way ahead of ya, Jan.” Virgil pulled out a huge fan brush, turned on the electric tooth brush and used both items on Roman’s belly button region.

“NOOOOOHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHA! VIHIHIRGIHIHIHIL STAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Roman pleaded.

Janus smirked as he leaned in, and blew cold air onto his neck. Roman squealed and curled his neck, throwing his head back in the process. “JAHAHAHAN!” Roman begged.

Then, Janus grabbed a feather and started tickling up and down Roman’s spine. “EEEEEK! WAHAHAHAIT NOHOHOHOHO! NAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE!”

“Hey Remus...Do you wanna have some fun?” Virgil asked before turning off the toothbrush. Janus stopped the feather and looked at Remus with curious eyes.

Roman took the time to breath in and out as much as he could before the tickling started up again.

“Sure! And I know just the spot~” Remus grabbed a foot rest, placed it between Roman’s lower legs, and tied Roman’s legs to the bars on the sides of the foot rest.

Roman shrieked and tried to lift the foot rest, but a 50 pound dumbbell had been tied to the bottom of the foot rest as well! “NO! YOU’D BETTER NOT PULL THAT ANKLE-BREAKING MOVE FROM MISERY!” Roman shouted at him.

Virgil and Janus widened their eyes at each other while Remus wheezed. “Look around the room, you dumbass! There’s no sledgehammers anywhere here!” Remus reacted through his laughter.

“Except for in the closet…” Virgil muttered.

Remus hummed. “Wait what?”

“There actually is one in the closet…” Virgil muttered again.

Roman let out an ear-piercing SCREAM in horror. “OH FUCK! OH SHIT NO! REMUS YOU DO THAT, AND I’M DIVORCING YOU AS A FUCKING BROTHER-”

“Hey Janus, do you have an extra hand to cover up his mouth?” Remus asked casually...too casually.

Janus nodded and covered up his mouth. With Roman’s screams covered up enough to focus, Remus got up to do his thing. He walked to the closet, grabbed out the sledge hammer and made a large portal. Roman was still breathing heavily and freaking out. But Remus gave the sledgehammer a heave, and threw it into the portal. A loud “OW!” could be heard from within the portal before it was closed up.

“There! No more sledgehammer, and no more scared Roman.” Remus told him.

Roman’s scared face lessened dramatically as he registered the lack of a sledgehammer.

“You can uncover his mouth now.” Remus told Janus. Janus nodded and uncovered his mouth as Remus walked back over. “Now what I was ACTUALLY gonna do...” Remus sat down onto the foot rest, and scooted a bit closer. “Was this:”

Remus reached his hand out and started tickling the inside of Roman’s thigh. Roman widened his eyes, gasped in surprise, and leaned his head to the side as the craving to laugh filled his lungs. Roman tried to hold them back as best he could...But the moment the fingers reached the lower thigh, it was all over.

“EEEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEK! NOHOHOHOHO! NONONO! NOTTHETHIGHS! HAHAHAHANDS AWAHAHAHAY!” Roman begged.

“Only if you confess to taking our stuff…” Remus reminded him as he moved his fingers to the other thigh.

“BAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OKAYOKAHAHAHAHAY! FIHIHIHINE!” Roman finally yelled.

Virgil smiled eagerly as Remus stopped his fingers. “Well?”

“Fihihihine...Yohohou wihihihin…*huff* I… *huff* I took ‘em…. *huff* *huff* Took ‘em all.” Roman finally admitted.

Remus smiled proudly and cheered. “YAAAAAY! I did it!” Remus declared.

“Totally didn’t see that coming…” Janus lied with a smirk.

“But wait:” Virgil looked at Roman. “Where did you put them?” Virgil asked.

Remus stopped cheering and looked at him. That was a good question! Where DID he put them?

Roman shook his head. “You said you’d let me go if I confessed. I confessed, so you need to let me go.” Roman told them.

“That’s why we have a tape record-” Virgil looked over at the tape recorder and noticed there was no tape in the tape recorder…

Virgil growled in pure frustration and anger the moment he heard crunching plastic on the other side of the table. Remus had moved himself to the other side of the table and…

..was eating the cassette tape.

“Whath? I goth hungryyy!” Remus reacted. “I’ff been hungry’fr hourth!” Remus added.

“And you couldn’t ASK FOR A BREAK?!” Virgil shouted.

Remus swallowed. “Mm mm. Go on. Keep going.” Remus told them, waving his hand to move them along.

Virgil sighed and looked at Roman. “Are there times you don’t associate with him?” Virgil asked.

Roman nodded. “All the time.” He replied. Rokman yelped as the circular spinning piece from the cassette tape smacked against his forehead. “OW!” Roman yelled.

“Thorry!” Remus reacted.

Virgil grabbed out another item from the tool box. “How about some oil?” Virgil asked.

OH HELL NAW!

Roman squeaked and wiggled around. “Uh uh! No way! Absolutely not! Get that stuff away from me!” Roman threatened.

Virgil giggled and poured some oil into his belly button.

“NOOOOOO!” Roman begged. Virgil grabbed a silicone oil brush from the tool kit, and started brushing and spreading the oil across his whole belly. Roman giggled and snorted as the brush moved everywhere across the regular skin, AND the shiny oiled skin. Whenever the brush would go across the oiled skin, Roman’s laughter would increase 10 fold, or even 20 fold! The oil made so much of a difference on Roman’s belly.

“And now for my new favorite part:” Virgil grabbed out two- TWO separate back scratchers. The metal back scratchers had paws on them rather than the usual fingers, which gave the back scratches metal claws rather than dull nails. Virgil handed one of them to Remus, and got ready to attack.

“NO...NOO PLEASE NO…” Roman pleaded.

“Where are they~” Virgil asked as he and Remus both brought the bear scratchers closer and closer to the belly.

“VIRGIL! REMUS! PLEASE! I DON’T KNOW! I! DON’T! KNOW! AAAAAAAAH!” Roman screamed and fell into loud cackles as the bear claws started scritching and scratching all over his poor, oiled belly.

“Where is it, oh ticklish prince of-”

“IHIHIHIN MYHYHY NIHIHIGHTSTAHAHAHAND! NIHIHIGHTSTAHAHAND!” Roman shouted.

Virgil widened his eyes. “Nightstand?!” Virgil reacted.

Remus got up, placed the bear claw scratcher down and sprinted to Roman’s bedroom. Roman took this moment to breath like his life depended on it. “Yohohou’re...lucky...I’m a side...otherwise...I will have...p-perished…” Roman said slowly.

Virgil laughed. “You wouldn’t have died, you drama queen.” Virgil fluffed his hair.

Janus smiled as he let go of Roman’s hands and wrote down the thief with the location of the items. “A criminal has pleaded guilty today. I say a job well done.” Janus told him. “And I mean it.” Janus clarified, telling him that he wasn’t lying.

Remus sprinted into the room with their stuff, and a mouth full of deodorant. “Hoodie!” Remus threw the hoodie to Virgil. “Hat!” Remus threw the hat frisbee style to Janus. “And MMMMMmmmmm!” Remus dug right into his deodorant like a mad man.

Virgil and Roman both bursted out laughing at Remus’s face, while Janus fixed his hat and hair. “There…” Then, Janus whipped off the high heels. “Finally! My feet can rest happy without these stupid heels!” Janus declared.

“FREE HEELS!” Remus declared, picking up the heels and sprinting out of the room.

Virgil shrieked and sprinted after him. “REMUS GIVE ME THOSE HEELS NOW, YOU ARE NOT HITTING PEOPLE WITH THEM!”

Roman bursted out laughing at their silliness and looked at Janus. “So...You gonna start that ASMR channel?” Roman asked.

Janus leaned into his ear with a smile. “Maybe~” He whispered.

Roman giggled nervously and covered his mouth. The teaser was already a huge indication that he was gonna DIE listening to Janus’s voice!

...A loud “OW! VIRGIL!” could be heard from all the way down the hall…

Those silly dark sides...

Also YES, 2 FANFICS TODAY! AREN'T YOU PROUD OF ME??? :D

#interrogation #roman and remus are twins #roman the thief #funny #humor #ticklefic #ler!virgil #ler!remus #ler!janus #lee!roman #teases #organized crime #not really though

[collecting-stories]

Thirteen - JJ Maybank

Request: hi! could you write an imagine where jj and the reader are really close and when they are starting to hook up for the first time and y/n gets scared bc of her past. She has a flashback and JJ helps her. She is reluctant and denies that anything is wrong. But finally she admits to jj that it’s not him and he’s super sweet and protective?

TW: Very brief contextual mention of sexual assault to a minor. 

Outer Banks Masterlist

▽ △ ▽ △

A knock sounded on the bathroom door as you sat on the edge of John B’s tub, head in your hands as you tried not to cry. Not today, not after all this time. You knew who was knocking but you didn’t have it in you to answer. Partially from embarrassment, (had you really just up and ran into the bathroom in the middle of making out?) and partially from the residual and everlasting pit in the bottom of your stomach that threatened to swallow you whole every time you felt even the smallest bit of happiness seep in. 

“Do you...should I go?” JJ’s voice followed his usual three-in-a-row rapping pattern on the wooden door. Like a code you didn’t need to tell you it was just him outside. No one to be afraid of. 

“No,” you shook your head even though he couldn’t see it, looking at the mirror across from you, a silver of forehead reflecting in the glass at your current height. “No, sorry, I’ll be right out.”

“Don’t apologise,” JJ replied hastily, running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t trying to make you feel like you had to rush out, he just wanted to make sure you were okay. He wasn’t exactly world class at comforting people though, “Are you alright? Do you want me to call Kie or something?” 

“No.” That was the last thing you wanted. Then your friends would be up in your business and you loved them, truly, but you didn’t need them interfering in whatever was happening between you and JJ. Or not happening, at this point. 

“Is there, I mean...is there anything I can do?” He asked, pacing the small area around the bathroom door, staring at the pictures Big John had on the wall. “We can talk or something.” 

You sighed, standing up and getting a full view of yourself in the mirror. “Yeah. Okay.”

The bathroom door opened and JJ stood up straight, back hovering against the wall opposite you, as if he was afraid of what would come out. It was just you though, looking a little worse for wear, as if you’d encountered a ghost somewhere between the pull-out couch and the bathroom. And, to be fair, you had. A ghost that looked a lot like you only younger, maybe a little more naive, and scared. You walked out of the bathroom slowly, reminding yourself over and over that the boy your ghost was afraid of wasn’t here and it was JJ, looking sweet and sympathetic and a little scared himself, that was standing across from you. 

“Hey, uh....here,” he led the way into the living room, moving aside the old comforter for you to sit on the pull-out, “you can sit.” 

You chewed at your lower lip as you sat there on the side of the bed, thigh pressed against the arm of the couch, staring at JJ who was still standing, rubbing at his arms the way he did when he was nervous, “You don’t have to be weird JJ...I didn’t mean to freak out.” 

You couldn’t help the guilty feeling gnawing at you. It’d been a perfectly good afternoon until your meltdown. John B was out and JJ invited you over because, truthfully, things between the two of you had been changing. A little more than friends, it had been a long time since you had trusted yourself with letting a crush be anything more than a crush. But JJ was different, you had always been honest with each other and he had trusted you with his dad. You knew you could let him in, it was just the doing so that felt like an insurmountable hill. 

“It’s cool. I just,” JJ shrugged, sitting down beside you but keeping a person sized distance between your body and his. “I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” 

“It wasn’t you.” You clarified though you hoped he already knew that. 

“Are you...okay? I mean, can I do anything?” JJ asked, teetering on the edge of wanting so desperately to help but also wanting to call anyone else in the world who would be better at this then he was. 

“It’s just-“ You thought about how to tell him so that he understood, how to make it sound so that he didn’t treat you like some sort of leper when he found out, “you know when you told me about your dad...”

“Yeah.” 

God, he would remember that for the rest of his life. The way you looked so upset when you thought he’d been picking a fight with Rafe or Kelce only to have him say that it was his dad. The way you looked, so horrified and angry, like you were going to march over there and beat the crap out of Luke Maybank yourself. JJ had half a mind to think that you could’ve if you really wanted to. 

“That’s, I feel like that.” You replied, thinking of the way he looked when he told you, that pain like a piece of broken glass wedges into his heart. 

“Is someone hurting you?” He paled as his eyes met yours. Immediately running through every possible candidate in his mind. 

“No, no.” You shook your head, not anymore. “I’m, I just don’t want you to think of me any differently.”

“I wouldn’t.” 

“Yeah but-“ you started to say but JJ shook his head, cutting you off. 

“No, seriously. I wouldn’t. Whatever it is you can tell me.” He replied. He waved his hand between the two of you as he continued, “this is a judgement free zone.” 

“Yeah okay.” You nodded. 

“What’s going on?” 

“It’s just...I haven’t really...done this before.” You replied. It was a complicated truth and you were trying your best to get it out, to explain something you’d never explained before. “Well,”

“Hey, it’s okay.” JJ scooted closer finally and you found a small piece of you immediately comforted by the feeling of his hand against your back, “Is it okay if I touch you?”

You nodded your head, moving your leg so your knee brushed his as id to silently confirm that it was okay. 

“I guess...” you tried to think of the words to say as you started to talk, “when I was 13 I had the biggest crush on my friend’s brother. I thought he was so cool. And he talked to me, ya know...like made me feel special. On day when I was over their house he told me he liked me a lot and that if I liked him I should...show him.” You took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself again.

Trying not to run for the bathroom and lock yourself inside. This was JJ. Funny, dumb, always high JJ, who tried to do party tricks to impress you at the risk of breaking a bone. Who lied through his teeth to buy a keg the week before while you sat in the driver’s side of your jeep honking the horn at him so many times the guy in the shop sold the keg just to get you to leave. JJ who always made sure you were okay any time you were feeling nervous. 

You pushed on, “I just really wanted him to like me and I didn’t want to do that but I felt like I had to. And I haven’t been with anyone since then cause-“ 

“Hey, it’s okay. We don’t have to do anything, at all.” JJ stressed, his hand rubbing warm circles on your back. He leaned over and kissed your exposed shoulder, so gently you almost swore it was your imagination, “Whatever you want, I’m happy just hanging out like we always do.” 

“I know you are. I just, I like you but I just feel like, I’m not sure...how to be with someone.” You didn’t even think you were making sense at this point but he didn’t seemed fazed. “It feels, it doesn’t feel like I think it should.” 

“Maybe that’s like, you telling yourself you aren’t ready for that yet.” JJ replied, unsure if he was even doing this comforting thing right. 

“Yeah but you’ve been with like, a ton of girls before.” You weren’t naive enough to think that JJ had never hooked up with the girls he hung around at parties, you knew that was pretty much all he did. 

“So what? That doesn’t have anything to do with this.” He insisted.

“If that’s true then I should be fine.” You argued. If he could just move on and not think about or compare you to anyone he’d ever been with then you shouldn’t still be carrying this weight. You didn’t even want it. 

“That’s different, someone hurt you.” He replied, “Yeah I’ve had sex before but, both of us wanted it. What your friend’s brother did wasn’t anything like that.” 

“I just don’t want you to think I’m messed up or something,” you explained. “or that you want something I can’t give you yet.”

JJ frowned at the sentiment, the last thing he would ever want is for you to feel any kind of pressure. From him, yourself, or anyone else, “I don’t care about that. And hey, we agreed, no judgement.” 

“Yeah I know but-“ 

“No. When I told you about my dad, that was really hard but you didn’t bail on me or make me feel weak. This is me doing the same for you.” He replied. “Forget dating or whatever, this is me and you alright. Best friends before anything else. What happened wasn’t your fault and it doesn’t change the way I feel about you at all. Don’t think that it does.”

“Okay.”

“That was a half-ass okay.” JJ replied, his shoulder knocking against yours. 

“It’s the best okay I can offer.” 

“How about, we just watch something? John B’s not back for another couple of hours.” He suggested, getting up and climbing onto the bed, the springs creaking as they buckled under his weight. You twisted to watch him as he made himself comfortable, spreading out with his back against the cushions and his arms out on either side. “We can even take a nap.”

You kneeled up onto the bed and crawled over to him, careful as you laid down beside him and rested your head against his shoulder. His  arm came around to drape over you and you reached up to hold his hand. “You got a full eight hours last night, how are you still tired?” You asked, the mood lightening significantly as you relaxed with him, “What would you have done if we had actually had sex?”

“Fallen asleep on you.” He replied, shrugging as if it was the obvious answer, “You would have asphyxiated cause I would’ve crushed you to death.” 

“You’ve been hanging out with Pope too long, you actually know what that word means.” 

“Are you saying I’m not smart enough to know things without hanging out with Pope?” He asked, sitting up a little more to look at you. 

“No, I’m just saying Pope is smarter than you,” you almost shrieked as he tackled you against the cushions, fingers prodding your sides over your tank top. “Oh my god, JJ! Stop, you know I’m ticklish!”

“Not until you admit that I’m the smartest person you know.” 

“Yes, yes, okay, you JJ Maybank are the smartest person I know,” you laughed as he stopped tickling you, hands holding your sides as he leant over you and placed a kiss on your forehead. 

“Good,” He replied, “you admit the truth. Now, let’s watch something happy.” 

-

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife  @freckled-and-daydreaming  @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @tiredfeels @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts @poguestyleskye @ssprayberrythings @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @kissessforharryyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @spencer-reid-is-a-cutie @mirjanak @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @wowitswondergurl @celestialmaybank @mybnkjj @pineappleandcherries @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @balletandyuzu @oh-annaa @aiifandomsunite @x-lulu @ceruleanjj @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @allie-mcginn @pcterparxer @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @vindictive-hearts @copper-boom @talksoprettyjjx @5am-cigarette @smiithys @dontjinx-it @outerbanksbro @mysticsthinking @heavenlymama  @rudy-pankow-needs-an-oscar @babymatilda @raekenliar @lemur46 @haute-shawn @calums-betch

#jj fanfic #jj fanfiction #jj fic #jj x reader #JJ Imagine #jj x y/n #jj x you #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fic #tw: mentions assault #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #outer banks fanfic #obx imagine #obx fanfic #obx fanfiction #obx fic #collecting stories

[oftenderweapons]

Stress Reliever - Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x reader (nicknamed Candy)

Wordcount: 5.3k words

Genre: mild angst, smut, romance

Rating: 18+

Hi everyone! It’s the final scenario of Stress Reliever and this time it’s the Golden Maknae!!!

I bet you’re all excited to see what is he going to do to release some frustration with his s/o. Don’t expect him to go easy.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: angst-smut-fluff (the profane trinity) jealousy and mild angst at the beginning, s/o has a mild age kink and JK is not exactly okay with this. Big fat degradation kink and well... yeah. Unprotected sex within an established relationship (please, be careful!!!), edging, wall sex (yk....,.,..,,,,), kinda hard dom JK but not really? So much dirty talking my keyboard is burning and I had do erase my browsing history, oral (female receiving), ass, tiddies and pussy spanking (ups), anddddd likeeeee,.,.,.,,,,,,..... voyeurism. BUt most importantly PraISe KinNnNNNKKKKkkkkK I’m sorry this one is so bad I have no excuses, I’m a slut for praise kink, please it’s so bad I melt every time someone calls me baby and good girl even in a non sexual context and it’s so embarrassing I’m gonna explode byeeeeee-----

Here is my masterlist ❤

Wordcount: 5.3k, unedited. Enjoy!

—————————————————

“God, he’s so hot.”

Jeongguk ignored whatever it was that you were talking about on the phone with your best friend. It wasn’t his business anyway. 

Both you and the voice on the phone giggled. You were probably talking about some film or something. “Bet he could go for hours.”

Jeongguk tutted at that, his snack almost ready in the microwave, hoping he’d be able to leave the kitchen as soon as possible. 

“Yeah, I have Googie, and I would never make a move on anyone else, but what’s wrong with innocently commenting on some older dude? He’s absolutely daddy material, let me fantasise a little about that.” Again you giggled. 

Jeongguk frowned at that. He wished he didn’t have to listen. He felt guilty since you thought he wasn’t in the room. 

“Koo is wonderful. A dream, truly. Still I love me a tough, mature man, at least in my imagination, every now and then.” You sounded coy. 

Really? Jeongguk’s frown intensified. He felt like he didn’t want a snack anymore at this point. Like he wanted another kind of snack.

“And I love Koo. Don’t forget that.” You continued.

He cocked his head to the side and nodded at that. That was a good sign. 

“Still… Damn, look at him. He’s in his forties and looks like a sex god.” You commented about the male lead actor. 

Jeongguk snorted and huffed at that. One more minute, he considered, watching the timer of the microwave.

“No. Listen. Consider this. He’s the kind of man who can lead. You can tell. How could he be eager and impatient? He knows good things take time. That’s the thing about older men. Maturity. Experience. They know they need to take their sweet time. That was the only good thing about my ex. You know it.” Your voice was plain, almost neutral as you said this. Matter-of-factly. 

Jeongguk was sick of this by now. Did you think he was too eager? Too impatient? Too young and naive? That he couldn’t lead you? That he couldn’t take his sweet time?

Well, now he was in a mood and he had each and every intention to take it out on you. He propped himself against the entrance of the living room, waiting for you to notice him. 

Unfortunately for you, you continued your conversation. 

“Yeah, sometimes Koo has his teenage shenanigans. Tantrums and shit. But he’s my boy.” You confessed, voice slightly lower. “Still… Yeah, sometimes I think ‘what if…’”

What if what? He cleared his throat. 

You lifted your head and finally spotted him. Your mouth opened, and so did your eyes, wide like saucers. 

“Get off the phone.” He growled. 

You closed your mouth. “Gotta go.”

“He’s there, isn’t he?” Your friend asked. 

You nodded, then, realising you needed to verbalise, you whispered a little ‘yes’. 

Your friend wished you good luck before disconnecting the call. You put your phone down.

“Need to tell me anything?” Jeongguk asked, arms crossed and tattoos showing. You spotted the almost invisible initial of your name hidden in one of the black swirls of ink. 

“It was nothing serious. Just gossip.” You defended yourself. 

“Teenage shenanigans. Tantrums.” He recalled. “Guess this is one of those.” He accused. 

“It’s… not like that?” You tried finding an apology, realising how cliché it sounded only the moment it left your mouth. 

He moved closer, expression dark and upset. “How do you want to solve this?”

You bit your lip. “However you want to.” You were testing the waters, seeing what his mood was. 

“Then stand up.” He ordered. 

You blinked a couple times before following his direction. “Koo?”

“No talking.” he replied. “You already said enough.” He threw you over his shoulder, exasperated at your scene. 

You squealed and huffed in surprise. “Jeongguk!”

“Quiet.” He secured with his arm, landing a loud spank on your ass. 

Again you squealed. “What are you–”

“Can’t you understand ‘no talking’? I thought an experienced girl like you had to be smarter than this.” His anger was beginning to show and you were actually somewhere between turned on and scared. You had seen him sweet and enamoured and insecure and upset, but rarely truly angry. 

“Sorry.” You murmured softly as his steps made you wobble against his back. He was carrying you to bed. For sure. 

A few seconds later you recognised your bedroom, and you felt your body being thrown down, landing on the mattress. In a blink you found Jeongguk’s heavy body on top of yours, his mouth at your ear. “Am I not good enough for you?” He teased. 

“You know I love it.” You replied shyly. 

“You love the sex. But am I good enough for you?” He asked again. 

“Yes. Yes, you are, Koo.” You answered firmly. 

“Let’s see if you hate it so much. Sex with this eager, impatient, younger boy.” He provoked. He was moving so fast. He was moving lightning-fast, one moment he was fully dressed and the following he was shirtless and attacking your own clothes, unbuttoning your jeans, tugging at them and taking them off of you. “Bet you’re already drenched. You were so thirsting after that old man.” He threw your jeans behind him, somewhere off the bed. 

“I only want you, and you know it.” You bit back. 

“Stop lying.” He warned. He took off your shirt with angry pulls, almost ripping it, your body collaborating in fear he would hurt you in the process. “You fantasise.” He reminded you. 

No, you don’t. Not willingly, at least. Of course, you’re an adult woman and you’re free of thinking whatever you want. Of course if you see a charming man, you might think of him sexually. But that doesn’t mean you’re not satisfied with what you have. That you would give up your boyfriend for a fantasy. 

“Koo, you’re the only man I want to fuck.” You reassured him, putting your hands around his face, trying to calm him down. 

“So I’m a man now? Not a boy anymore?” he asked, unlatching your bra. 

“You’re always my man to me, you know it.” You hoped the sight of your breasts would make him sway a little. 

It didn’t.

“You called me your boy. Just back then, on the phone.” He bared you with frustrated tugs and pulls. 

“Am I not your girl?” You asked, touching him on his chest, his shoulders, his neck. Anything to express your need for him. 

“Not like I’m patronizing you.” He turned you around, smacking your ass again as he removed your panties, baring your behind. “So fucking condescending.”

You bit your lip, now profoundly sorry for the way you had treated him. “I said some very dumb things, Jeongguk, and I apologise.”

“Good. Now let me prove my point.” He agreed. 

“Want to fuck me good?” You asked, incapable of hiding your arousal. 

“You were talking so much shit that I think you’ve forgotten what this is about.” Another smack. 

Once more you found yourself lying on your back, your naked body now bare to his stare. His pants were tented at the front, the outline of his cock so delicious, thick and half hard. 

“Love, please.” Your hands moved to his waistline, reaching for his sex. 

“Oh, no. I’m taking my sweet time, ____. Starting from here.” He bent down and pressed a hard kiss to your lips, making you moan and whimper before his own mouth opened, his tongue disturbingly sensual and heavy in his assault to your mouth. You were now eager and impatient, while he took everything deliriously, deliberately slowly. “What next? Do you want your nipples licked?” He murmured.

You only nodded, your chest already feeling heavier and oversensitive. 

“Oh, no. That’s for boys. Boys latch onto their mommy’s tits. Men don’t do that, do they?” He replied, grabbing your breast aggressively, parting from your mouth before delivering a quick slap on the skin there. 

You barked out in pain, the sensation not unpleasant but rather surprising. 

“You like it?” He waited for your nod before repeating the gesture. “Is it how a real man would do this?” He asked. 

“Want your mouth, Googie.” You begged. 

“Googie… Ridiculous. Even in bed you treat me like a child.” He hit you again, this time harder. “Can’t take me seriously, can you?”

You were already on the verge of begging. 

“Such a lame show.” He let his hand venture down to your navel, down to your mound, and dive between your thighs. “Tell me, what is it that made you wet?”

You whined at the sensation of his fingertips there, incoherent babbling leaving your mouth. 

“Answer me, babe.” He urged.

Your eyes went wide at the word. He was using every single one of your earlier mistakes against you. Reminding you exactly what you’ve done wrong, but also showing you everything that had hurt him.

“You made me wet.” You informed him. 

“Me slapping your tits?” He snickered darkly.

“You wanting me. You looking always so fucking hot. You giving me everything I need. You being everything I’ll ever need.”

His eyes turned into cold slits. “You sure know how to sweet talk your ass out of problems, don’t you?” He cupped your heat, at which you parted your legs to invite him to make himself comfortable there, to give you his attention. In response he lifted his hand, only to let it land harshly on you. You screamed. Pleasure. Echoing through your veins. Running like wildfire inside your limbs and finally concentrating in your lower belly. “That might work with your boys. Remember? I’m your man tonight. And you’re in trouble, you silly, silly girl.”

Your first reaction was to fill your lungs with some fresh air, before writhing against his grip, the sheets burning your skin. "Jeongguk." 

"Yes?" He replied, looking you in the eye as his palm brushed against you. 

"I wanna be yours." 

"You want this impatient boy?" He asked, the muscles of his jaw tense. 

You tried kissing him, only brushing your lips against his. “I need you, Jeongguk. All of you. Now.”

“Don’t you want me to take my time?” He asked, slowly, oh-so-slowly, caressing your sex. “Don’t you want me to make you wet? Get you all ready and messy?”

“I love my impatient boy. And my meticulous man.” Your lips left a butterfly kiss just shy of his mouth, eyes closing. 

“Tell me how you want me.” He groaned. 

“However you want, Koo. You’re always so good.” Your hips pushed harder against his digits. “Do your best.”

“Then let me show you I’m always the best.” He murmured, his breath fanning over your face. He was laying on his side, hand still dipped between your thighs. He got rid of his sweatpants quickly, his underwear coming off in the same movement. You couldn’t help but watch, eyes entranced to the beauty of his nakedness. You could stare at him for hours. Unfortunately, he had other plans. 

Standing up from the bed he circled around it, looking at you like you were his prey, his prize. 

“Sit.” He ordered, pointing at the edge of the bed, right in front of where he was standing. Of course you were going to obey. His chiselled body was right there, for you to watch, touch and worship, your mouth just in front of his navel. His sex looked awfully flush, tip red with excitement, beaded in precum. You wanted a taste; however the palm reaching for him was stopped by his wrist. “My rules, brat.”

You inhaled sharply while he bent down, securing your legs around his waist. “Hold on tight, ____. Not gonna say it twice.” and with that he picked you up, like you weighted nothing.

Your arms snaked around his neck, legs tightening at his waist, crossing behind his back. 

“First here. Then we’ll see.” And with that he placed you against the wall, his mouth joining your neck, placing sloppy kisses and licks. “Do you want me to mark you or is it too childish?” He growled hard behind your ear. 

“Bite me, mark me, do whatever you want, I just need you inside, Koo.” You moaned, trying to lure him in. 

“Such a needy slut, uh?” He whispered at your ear. “This what you want?” And with that he pinned you hard against the wall, one hand guiding himself at your entrance and sliding into you in one smooth stroke, perfectly hitting your sweet spot at the first go. 

The small humming sound that rumbled in your throat found its twin on his lips. 

“I said, is this what you want, slut?” He teased you again. 

“Yes, Koo.” You muttered, only half coherent. 

He snickered. “Great.” Placing his hands on your ass, helping you up, he pulled out of you, his tip almost slipping out before entering again in full force. “That feels nice, doesn’t it?”

You murmured in confirmation, pressing harder against him. It was different from usual. He was thrusting in slower and deeper, enjoying your tightness, his eyes closed, his hair falling forward as he pushed into you. 

“So tight, baby, how come you’re still so fucking tight?”

“God, you’re so big.” One of your hands moved to his behind, grabbing his ass, groping it, enjoying the flashing of his muscles. His forehead fell on your shoulder, mouth wild on every single inch of your skin he met. 

“Like it?” He picked up the rhythm, just slightly, spurred by your moans and your dishevelled expression. Your bum kept hitting the wall, the thumping now obvious and obscene. 

“Harder.” You begged. 

“Dirty mess.” He giggled at your ear, looking at you and kissing you until you were breathless and your head was spinning. He parted from your lips and stared into your eyes, intensity pouring out of his obsidian stare. “Want more?”

“I need you to touch me there, love, please.” You asked, eyes closing as you implored. 

“Not yet, baby.” His pace was delirious by now, his legs growing tired but headstrong on reaching his orgasm. 

“Please, Jeongguk.” You whined, digging your heels in his back. 

“No can do, sweet thing. Now shut up.” And with that he rammed inside, using your upper back to keep you on the wall as his arms pushed and pulled your hips, fucking you onto him. “Grown men take what they want, don’t they?” He bit into your collarbone and let his mouth open wide, howling in pleasure, his cum filling you up. 

You were hanging on the verge of sanity. “Koo, no, please.”

He was leaning heavily in your arms, your body hanging like a picture from the wall. “That was so fucking good, ____.”

“Koo, please.” You cried out.

“You wanna cum, baby?” He teased. “Want me to make you cum, slut?” He bit your cheek playfully. “Take it to bed? D’you want that?”

Your body tensed again for his not-so-kind nickname. “Yeah, Koo.” You whined. 

“Good.” Little did you know that half a minute later he would still be inside you, sitting you on the soft headboard of the bed. He moved out of you, spinning you around and placing you bottom-up bent over the soft material of the board. “Be a good girl for me. Man, look at that ass. So hot, baby.” He slapped it playfully. “You ready baby?”

“What are you doing?” You asked, your ass up, your legs slightly dangling from the headboard as the tips of your toes brushed the floor, your stomach pressed against the dark leather. You tried shifting your weight to your arms, but Jeongguk trapped one of them behind your back. 

“You can use one to hold yourself up. No more than that, bitch.”

His filthy mouth made your blood feel inebriated, almost like being tipsy. 

Your hips were conveniently exposed, his mouth immediately identifying its target as he crouched down and started rubbing his lips against your sex. “Good?”

“Yes, yes. Yes...” You whispered, still chasing the high he had taken from you earlier. 

“Want me to make you cum?” He asked.

“Please.” You whined. 

“Such a cock hungry little thing.” He let his tongue loll out, the tip going to your front, rubbing against your clit. He kissed the skin there before speaking into your skin: “Be good.”

His tongue slipped inside you, licking away his seed, then spitting it out all over your slit, lubricating you again. “Can you cum without my fingers on your clit, baby? Can you come for an impatient boy licking you?” He bit into the curve your ass. 

“Jeongguk, I’m sorry. Please.” You implored.

“You consider yourself a woman when all you truly want is for me to turn you into my little girl.” He kissed the side of your thigh, his right hand heavily palming and groping your ass. By now you felt like bursting at the seems, arousal coming off your limbs in waves. Jeongguk, buried between your legs, took your salty scent in, delivering small bites to your labia and sucking your clit viciously. 

You only needed more pressure. 

“Come on, slut, cum for me so I can get inside you again.” He teased, repositioning you with his spare hand and now adding more strength to the movements of his tongue. 

The change was immediate. You could feel it in your belly. “Koo, I’m—” next thing that left your mouth was a long scream, rattling your bones, resetting you entirely. 

“That’s a good girl.” He said in the most patronising, condescending and sarcastic tone he could muster. You felt your lungs ignite. “Are you gonna stay still now after you got what you wanted? Let me fuck that need for older men out of you?”

He was angry again. He was angry still. 

“I said dumb stuff.”

“‘Cause you’re a little dumb doll, aren’t you?” His voice came from somewhere behind you, above you. You turned to search for his face but he used his big hand to press your face against the pillow below you. “Dumb, disobedient doll. Stay put.”

You closed your eyes and tried to press your behind to his pelvis. “I’m begging. Jeongguk. I love you.”

“Oh, so you love me now.” His length lingering on your entrance suddenly slammed into you. “You love me?”

“Yes!” You screamed, hoping that the walls would keep your sounds inside the room.

His hand pinned both of your wrists behind your back. “More than your ex?”

“Yes! I’ve never loved anyone like you, Koo.” You mewled, desperate.

"Has he ever fucked you this good?" He grunted, bending down to your ear. 

"No Jeongguk, I swear. You're the best."

"That’s right. I'm the fucking best." He rammed into you recklessly, his head falling forward as he stood and helped your hips back, the tip of your feet now pressed more steadily against the floor, removing some pressure from your abdomen.

He probably didn't even realise that the position was getting uncomfortable, and you were grateful for the shift, even if it made his thrusts deeper and more difficult to resist. 

“How can you want it calm and patient when you love being my fuckdoll, uh?” He pulled out and smacked your ass hard, then plunging in again. “When you need a young—” thrust— “inexperienced—” thrust—“impatient little boy—” thrust— “to fuck your brains out?”

You moaned and pushed yourself toward him, the sound of your flesh squelching and smacking echoing in the room. 

His hand climbed around your waist, dipping down your navel and meeting the apex of your labia. “Did your ex ever fuck you like this?”

“No Jeongguk.” You replied meekly. 

“Did he ever make you cum like this?” He asked, torturing you with his devious fingers. 

“No, Jeongguk.”

“Did he ever make you speechless with his cock?” He growled, sinking into you and shifting his hips to push small little circles deep against your cervix. 

“No…” you hummed, barely responsive.

“You’re gonna cum so good on my cock, doll. You’re gonna be a slut for it, drool on it for the rest of your life.” He swore, filthy and almost unconscious. 

Were you more coherent, you would have realised how fucked out he was, but unfortunately you were twice as gone as him and in no time your mouth formed his name in a strangled breath before your body twitched around him, your hands gripping on your forearms, still in the position he’d put you in even though his grip was no longer controlling you. 

“Cumming on my dick. Such a dumb little girl for it, uh?” He provoked you, even though your mind was miles high, seeing stars dance in your peripheral. “Take it all. Enjoy it. It’s the only one you’re gonna get, slut.”

And with that he grabbed hold of your hips and started bouncing your bum against his crotch, hammering into you, lasting only a minute before grunting your name and growling against your spine, falling forward and then snapping back, head bent away from you as he used you as his personal toy. 

When you felt him stop you dared turn around. He was magnificent. 

Hair plastered to his forehead, face and torso glimmering with sweat, the veins of his arms popping out like highways under his skin. 

“Koo.” You murmured, looking for your boy, your comfort, your safe place. 

“Only a second, sweetheart.” He exhaled, his skin blushing with exertion. “I know I can get another one, just give me time, baby.”

“Koo, I—“ You objected, but he stopped you.

“It’s not you. It’s me. I want it.” He warned with a stern tone. “Don’t you dare think this is about you, doll. Can you choose where you want it or are you too fucked out for that?”

Jeongguk helped you up and pulled you to his chest, the pose half affectionate and half controlling. “You know me best. I know you’ll choose what is best for me.” You whined in an attempt of flattery — even though it was absolutely true. He does know you best. You know he will always choose what’s best for you because he loves you. He adores you. 

He carefully drew out of you, kissing your spine delicately. You still had to understand what was his current mood. “Turn around.”

You obeyed, your eyes naturally focusing on his chest, right in front of your face. He pinched your neck and turned your head upwards, toward his awaiting gaze. You knew there were many things he was trying to say right in that moment with nothing but a glance. You knew how the words got stuck in his throat and how they would stumble and shake before falling from his lips, how they would sound tiny and hurt and heartbroken, but also fond and fiery and faithful. 

You knew all his favourite words, the ones he spoke so little, the ones he kept closer to his heart in fear that their power would diminish once they finally made it out.

He kissed you one, two, five, ten, twenty times, small pecks and butterfly kisses, Eskimo kisses with the tip of his lovely nose, and wet, sloppy kisses on your neck. He combed your dishevelled hair and kissed it too, then your hands, then your wrists and then your eyelids. Your forehead and your brow, the tender skin behind your ear, the softness of your cheeks. 

Picking you up, he kissed you again, his mouth possessing yours, lost in the tenderness and passion of you. You felt like a small boat in a wide, calm sea, nothing but the horizon all around you, his waves lulling you, his voice and his lips leading you towards a safe haven, surrounded in peace. 

“I love you, Googie.” You breathed softly against his open mouth. 

“Let me show you.” He replied, again carrying you exactly where he wanted. 

Your walk in closet was enormous, with wide wardrobes along the walls, a couple mirrors multiplying the images of you and him. 

“Here.” He said, placing you on the comfy seat in the middle of the small room.

In here he would see your every angle and reaction. There would be no escape from the blatant ruination he would unleash over your body. 

His hand was already cupping his sex, palming and pumping it as he used his other arm to pry your legs open, his head sinking there. He bit into the skin of your thighs, sucking and kissing with a hunger you had never thought existed. His favour stopped just shy of your entrance, watching as his release spilled and stained your skin. 

“Amazing.” He murmured reverently, leaning into your knee as if he was on the verge of sanity and you were the only thing pinning him to reality. “Tell me I’m the only one you want.”

“You’re the only one I want. The only one I love.” You wasted no time as you comforted him, giving him that safety net he so desperately craved.

“Tell me you won’t leave me,” he begged, closing his eyes as if the thought caused him physical pain. 

“I’ll be by your side, always.” You promised, caressing his hair. 

“Look,” he pointed to the mirror on your side, to your seated figure and his kneeling one. 

“Koo. Are you ready? I need you so bad.” You whined, your eyes leaving the reflection only as you ended your request.

“Want you on your knees, belly on the seat.”

He gave you the space to manoeuvre down from the seat, on your knees, right as he wanted you.

“Look straight ahead, doll. Look at that.” He teased, his hand pointing towards the mirror in front of you. “Look at your tits pressed up against the seat. They’re so soft… They must be so fucking sensitive by now.” His hand stroking himself dragged his tip against your skin, moistening you evenly as he got ready once more. 

“I’ve neglected them today.” He caressed your back and kissed your neck. “I’ll take good care of them tomorrow morning. Would you like that?” He asked, mischievous. 

“Yes, Koo.” God, you weren’t even sure you knew other words by now, so possessed by your need for him. 

He put just the head of his cock inside you, enjoying the immediate fluttering of your insides. “Want more, doll.”

With a humming, senseless groan you backed your ass into his groin. 

He snickered sarcastically. “Fuckdoll.”

You felt every inch of him enter you, violating your flesh. 

“That’s it. I’m gonna ruin you.” Jeongguk growled visciously as he bottomed out. 

“Please.” You moaned as you looked at his face from the reflection in the mirror. He was using his hand to press against your lower back.

“Taking me so well, slut. So hungry for it.” He was lost in the reflection too, moving slow and deep. 

“Only for you.” You whined, praising him. 

“No one can do it like us. No one.” He twisted your head to the side, the other mirror welcoming you. “There’s no one else for us.”

God, he was wordy today. You were basking in it. You loved how he wanted you to see, to hear everything. He was often wild but shy and today was truly exceptional for many reasons. “Googie, touch me, I’m getting close, please.”

“You keep saying please, baby. So polite today, uh? Might have to fuck you like this more often.” He provoked you. 

“Look how fucked out you are, doll.” He snorted. “You’re so hot.” He keened.

You watched the way his muscles moved, his pecs flexing and relaxing as he dragged your hips along his shaft. “No one can get you this hot.”

“No.” You whined out, desperate for more, for anything, for everything he was willing to give you. 

“You’re a slut for me alone, uh?” He smacked your ass once more, pulling out of you entirely and slapping his length over your soft backside. “Dirty fuckdoll.”

“I’m your toy, Koo. Use me.” You pleaded, searching for him with your hands, needing him close, closer, melted into you. “Please.”

“How can I say no to my needy slut.” He giggled before changing his angle, his arm infiltrating beneath your torso, between your breasts, towards your neck.

His other hand slithered to your front, his thrusts more subdued now that his leverage was weaker between your thighs and against your collarbone. The slow-down however helped you focus on your clit, on his fingers there on the way he was touching you in that “I’m not playing, you’d better cum in the next two minutes” mood. 

“You’re getting tighter, doll. D’you like my hand so much?” He teased with an accusing tone. “You must be close, mh?”

“So close, Koo.” You chirped.

“Come on, then.” His thrusts slowed even more, making you feel full to the brim and once they paired with his fingers you found yourself coming apart. 

“Yeah, babe. So fucking tight. Cum for me.” He spoke on your skin, body completely twisted and twined with yours. His tongue ran against your spine, his throat producing small, deep grunts as his pleasure exploded and spilled inside you. “Yes, doll. Fuck babe. Amazing.” He howled, arching into you, sticking to you like a second skin. 

“You look so damn lovely, doll. I love you so fucking much.” He whispered, heavy at your back, his hips stilling. “I bet nobody’s ever fucked you like this.”

“No.” You confirmed. “Nobody has. Nobody ever will.” You pressed a kiss to his hand, close to your face and cupping your cheek. 

As if coming back from a trance, he batted his lashes intensely, kissing your face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, Googie. It was… incredibly hot. Definitely on your top three best performances. I will definitely write this day down on the calendar. We can celebrate it like an anniversary.”

“Hot fuck in the closet day.” He murmured, half asleep on top of you. “I like that.”

You smiled. “Can we get to bed? My knees are a bit sore. Actually I’m a bit sore all over.”

He nodded, waiting a couple seconds before parting from you and helping you up, carrying you to the bathroom and cleaning you up silently, taking care of you before dropping both of your heavy bodies on the bed. 

“I said ugly stuff.” He confessed. 

“I did too.” You admitted. “You know, I might think that older men are charming, but that’s as far as it goes. And I might have said stuff about my ex, but hey, there are multiple reasons why he’s my ex.” You caressed his face and kissed his hair as he laid his head on your chest. “And I’m here with you. No charming old man, no patient ex will ever change the fact that I love you.” You reassured him. “That you’re a dream come true.” You held his hand and intertwined your fingers. 

“I just… I’m always afraid of the things I can’t give you.” He whispered, insecure. As if he hadn’t given you his everything… 

“I will love you for all the things you can give me, Googie. And we will learn to compromise about the things we can’t give each other. That’s how it works.” You brought his hand to your lips, pressing them against every inch of it. 

“I’m sorry about the bad words.” He said with big doe eyes, lined with silvery tears. “I hope I didn’t insult you or upset you.”

“Would you worry if I said I liked that a bit?” You looked into his eyes tenderly, trying to dissolve his shyness. “But I hurt you with my words, so I want to know now.”

Your conversation went on for almost half an hour, his body warm and comfortable next to yours, the feeling of safety encouraging him to bare himself, showing you his darkest, most vulnerable sides.

By the end of the afternoon you both felt loved and appreciated, cared for and adored. With his head heavy on your chest, your heartbeat playing in his ear, Jeongguk realised you would always be his one.

#bangtan sonyeondan #jungkook smut #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #bts smut #kpop smut #jungkook fanfiction

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

When the Weight Comes Down - 3

Warnings: non-consent sex (series); nothing for this chapter

This is dark! (biker) Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Series Synopsis: Your father’s a drunk, your mother a recluse, and you’re just another small town girl in Birch.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown

Note: Here’s part three. Hope you enjoy the subtle escalation of dark! Steve. Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter Three: Everytime You Go

Said, "My girl don't just walk, she unfurls" With motorcycle language He stumbled through his slang pledge Then he dragged the mud for wedding pearls

💀💀💀

Your days passed at the bakery as if nothing had changed. Babs didn’t ask about Steve but you could tell she wanted to. You could tell she was reassured as he hadn’t made a second appearance. And your mother. She barely spoke to you at all now and when she did, she accused you of foolishness. She didn’t believe that you had tried to say no. That you had tried to avoid the leather-clad man.

He lingered at the back of your mind but you tried not to think about him too much. Only when you walked by the bar that was throne to the ancient Egyptian queen. You wondered why they had chosen her for their moniker. The doomed queen and her many, alleged, lovers.

On Tuesday, you went the other way. You stood outside Lloyd’s and stared in at the new fantasy novel. You never shopped much from the bestsellers, you stuck to the used shelves; often you kept to the library. That was free.

You stepped inside and found the old man bent over his desk. He held a long pair of tweezers as he put together a ship in a bottle. He barely looked at you as he said hello. You smiled and mumbled your response before you dipped down your usual aisle; historical fiction and centuries old fantasy.

You didn’t see anything interesting so you moved along. You neared the shelf of biographies and found the woman from the bar; the new bartender. She didn’t seem to notice you as she read the back of a book about Katherine Hepburn. You stepped up beside her and pulled out a biography of Elizabeth Taylor. As you did, another fell and you bent to pick it up. The woman jumped as you stood and held both the books.

“I didn’t see you there,” She turned to you and glanced at the books in your hands. “Take the bottom one. The top one is… mere gossip.”

“Oh?” You looked down. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” She turned over the book in her hand and slapped it against her other palm. “Do I know you?”

“Um, I’ve seen you at the diner… but the other night you were at the bar,” You put the first book back and kept the second. 

She thought for a moment then nodded.

“You left with Steve.” She said.

“Well, he helped me with my pa,” You stammered. “I didn’t leave with him.”

“Helped you?” Her expression turned stony. “Well, that was nice of him.”

You turned back to the shelf and read the titles quietly. She glanced over a few more herself but only held onto the one.

“Right. See ya around, maybe.” She said.

You nodded and she slowly stepped around you. She was halfway down the aisle before you found your courage.

“Wait,” You spun around and took a few steps toward her. “The way you-- What do you mean it was nice of him?”

She laughed sardonically, her lips curled sourly.

“Birds of a feather,” She said. “I… know a few of his friends; they aren’t very friendly. Not exactly the helpful type.” Her nostrils flared. “What I mean is that he is not a nice man. Not a good one, in the least.”

You blinked at her dumbly.

“Because he’s a biker?” You asked.

“No, because he’s a criminal. And an asshole.” She snarled. “Just… trust me. You’re best off staying home and reading. The Asp is no place for girls like you.”

You felt like your skin was on fire. You clutched the book and shifted on your feet as she went to walk away.

“How--” You caught yourself and she stopped again.

“How what?” She asked.

“Well, how do I tell him no?” 

She squinted. Her forehead wrinkled and she stepped closer.

“What do you mean?” 

“He… asked me to have a drink with him, I told him I didn’t want to but… he wouldn’t listen.”

Her face fell and she shook her head. She swore under her breath.

“Well, you don’t,” She leaned a hand on the shelf. “You can’t. He’s one of them.” She sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry. Why are you sorry?”

She shrugged. “I guess because I know what that’s like.”

“Oh,” You uttered and she gave a weak smile before she turned away again.

You watched her go and she stopped at the door to glance back at you. She gave a small wave and stepped out into the street. You slowly trode down the aisles and neared the man at the counter. Larry, Lu? You always forgot.

“Bag?” He asked as he punched the buttons on the till.

“No thank you,” You said as you dug in your purse. Your hand shook as you handed him a bill.

💀

You weren’t sure what to wear. You knew it wasn’t a real date. No, that was dumb. It was a drink. Just a drink. You’d watched enough prime time television to know that meant nothing. And watched enough to know that your wardrobe was painfully out of date. Your old jeans and tees would do on any other day but you weren’t sure that was proper attire for… a drink.

You pulled on the yellow dress with daisies. The skirt hung past your knees and the cap sleeves were dated. You pulled on a crochet cardigan over it and the pair of slingback flats from the back of your closet. You sprayed yourself with the white rose perfume you rarely touched to hide the thrift store scent which clung to you.

You looked okay. You didn’t have any make-up. You never wore it. And your hair looked better than most days; you had tried. Your mother appeared in your door as you grimaced at your reflection.

“Don’t you look nice.” She crossed her arms.

“Ma,” You buttoned your cardigan. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re so naive.” She hissed. “You have no idea what this man could do to you.”

“Ma, please, it’s just a drink.” You neared her. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“And when he tries to stick his hand up your skirt, Hmm? You gonna have a choice then?”

You’d never heard her sound so hateful. You flinched.

“No, he doesn’t… want that,” You grabbed your small purse from your dresser and checked that your little wallet was inside. “Ma, really.”

“Do you really think he wants anything else?” She sneered. “He’s playing with you.”

“Maybe. Well, of course, he is, but are you going to stop him? Is Pa gonna get off his fat ass and stop him?” You huffed. 

“You think this makes you an adult? Acting like this?”

“You married Pa,” You edged past her. “You know all about marrying an asshole.”

“Don’t you say that,” She followed you down the hall.

“It’s the truth.” You stopped at the front door and opened it to peer through the torn screen. “I might as well accept that I’ll never get out of Birch. I’ll be lucky to get out of this house.”

“Don’t act like we never did anything for you.”

“I never said that,” You turned back to her. “But you can’t say I never did anything for you.”

“Sweet pea…” She clasped her hands together.

“Worry about Pa,” You said as you grasped the door handle and you heard your father swearing at the baseball game. “Worry about yourself. You know how he gets.”

“I’m only worried about you.” She argued.

“Don’t,” You pushed the door open. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

You pulled the big door shut behind you and let the screen door bounce against the frame. You sat on the steps and stared into the dusk. The days got longer and longer as the nights dwindled. You played with the thin strap of your bag and tapped your foot on the rotting wood.

The roar of an engine tore through the air and you stood as you watched Steve approach on the dark beast. The motorcycle huffed a stream of exhaust from its tail and you fidgeted. He stopped just before the yellowed grass and you slowly descended the bottom step.

He let the engine idle as it quieted to a steady rumble. He waved you over with a leather-gloved hand and you neared reluctantly. He smiled at you and gestured to the seat behind him.

“Helmet’s in the saddle bags,” He called over the engine. “Keep your legs wide. Don’t wanna touch that exhaust.” 

You nodded and hooked your purse around your body. You went to the saddle bag and fumbled with the buckle. You found the helmet inside and pulled it on. You struggled with the strap and Steve chuckled as he beckoned you closer. He helped secure it and his leather glove tickled your jaw.

“Get on,” He said.

You climbed up, nearly falling as you did, and caught yourself on his shoulder. He seemed barely bothered by the slip and you swung your leg over. You sat there, awkwardly and leaned back. He took your arm and pulled it around his side.

“You’ll have to hold on,” He said. 

He slowly backed up, a foot at a time and angled the bike around. You held onto him and looked back at the house. Your mother was at the window, watching. You lowered your eyes and the scent of leather filled your nostril. Steve kicked off and the bike tore down the drive and onto the road. You clung tighter to him as you let out a surprised yelp.

It was only a few minutes before you reached the main road and he pulled into the side lot of The Asp. He came to a stop and waited as you carefully climbed off. You were thankful to be back on the ground. He kicked the stand down as he killed the engine and got off himself.

He took off his helmet and took yours from you. You gripped your purse tightly, nervously. He guided you around the front of the building, his hand on the small of your back. Every time you tried to make space between you, he got closer.

You stepped inside to the same smells as before. Your stomach turned but you kept on. Steve led you to a table and offered you a seat beside another man in leather. You weren’t expecting a crowd but it might save you some awkwardness. You sat as he took the chair beside you and rested his hand on yours, just behind your shoulder.

“This is Bucky,” He pointed to the man at your other shoulder. “Boss man. Sam, Danny, and Reese.”

The men nodded at you, more interested in their beer and their own conversations than your arrival. The only who really acknowledged you was that beside you.

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing someone,” Bucky sat back and raised two fingers to signal the bar then looked at you. “Good to meet ya.”

“You too,” You mumbled and cradled your purse in your lap.

“Whatcha drinkin’?” Steve asked as the server neared. 

It was the girl from the bookstore. As she came around, Bucky reached over and caressed her hip. She stiffened but said nothing on it.

“Refill,” Bucky said. “Thanks.”

“A bud,” Steve said tersely. He exchanged a sharp look with the woman. “And--”

You blinked as he waited for you to order. You shrugged.

“I.. don’t know. I don’t really drink.” You muttered.

“She’ll have one too,” Steve filled in.

The woman nodded and strode away. She returned shortly with a tray of tall glasses and you thanked her. She gave you a sympathetic glance before she left you again.

“That’s a… unique dress,” Steve commented as he touched your skirt. “I think my mom had one just like it.”

You scrunched your lips and reached for the beer. You didn’t know what to say.

“Didn’t mean it was bad,” He said and you recoiled at the hoppy beer. “You’ll get used to the taste.”

You nodded and put the pint down. He took his and drank deeply.

“You ever play pool?” He asked. “I could teach you?”

You peeked over at the table. You didn’t like the idea of being bent over like the men did as they hit the balls. You shook your head.

“No, thank you.” You said.

“Poker?” He chanced.

“I don’t know,” You picked at your sweater. “I…”

“It’s okay.” His hand settled on your knee. “You don’t need to be so nervous. I like you. Quiet as you are.”

You gave a sheepish smile and took a drink; a deep gulp. You glanced at the bottle cap clock over the bar. You couldn’t wait for the night to end.

💀

You were wobbly as you stood up. A second glass went down easier and you weren’t so bothered by the grainy taste, though you still wondered how your father could drink so much. Steve angled you around the table as you tried not to betray how unsteady you felt. He grabbed your arm as you got ahead of him.

“Hold up, doll,” He pulled you back beside him. “It’s barely eleven.”

You were silent as he kept pace with you and followed you out the door. The night air was cool and a slap on your hot cheeks.

“I’ll walk you home,” He offered. “Beer went down too easy.”

“Mmhmm,” You hugged yourself, the air seeping through the crocheted cardigan.

“You got tomorrow off, you said?” He asked and you felt his hand on your back again.

“Yeah,” You answered quietly.

“How about I take ya for a ride? A nice long one.” He rubbed your lower back.

“I don’t know. I got a lot to do.”

“Chores? Scared to disappoint your mommy?”

“N-no,” You wavered slightly as your toe caught a crack in the sidewalk. “No. I just… I have things to do.”

“They can wait,” He brought his arm up and slung it over your shoulders. “Doll… you gotta let loose.”

You grabbed his hand and stopped suddenly. You pushed it off your shoulder and turned to him.

“Steve, I don’t think this is--”

His other hand came up to frame your face and you were stunned by his suddenness. He kissed you and the air went out of you. A peck on with a tickle of tongue along your lips. You squeaked in surprise and pulled back. You touched your lips; your first kiss.

You spun and quickly hurried away from him. He followed and caught your hand. He drew you back once more.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Steve, please.” You pleaded. “I just want to go home.”

“I wasn’t rough,” He said. “So, what’s the matter?”

You looked at your feet. He kept hold of your hand and you swayed a little. The beer made your eyelids droop.

“Steve, I’ve never… kissed anyone before,” You admitted as you dared to look at him. The street light caught the blue of his eyes and illuminated the angles of his face. “And I just…” You wrestled with him until you loosed your hand from his. “I don’t know.”

“What?” He stopped you before you could run away, his hands on your arms. “How’s it that you never been kissed?”

“Stop,” You said. “Please. I’m not that girl.”

“Not what girl?”

“The girl you kiss,” You huffed. “I wanna go home.”

“You’re the girl I wanna take for a ride.” He dropped his hands and grabbed yours. He turned you towards your house and continued down the street. “Tomorrow at noon.”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #biker!steve rogers #biker au #biker!au #dark fic #fic #dark!fic #au #series #limited series #mcu #marvel #captain america #when the weight comes down

[frizzle-tales]

“Good morning…” She tried to glance up at him, and even though Jiyeon didn’t want him to get any closer or touch her, she was relieved that he helped her up so that she could be sitting. “Yes… I was really tired.” Jiyeon confirmed, nodding as she looked down at the hard floor underneath them.

Jiyeon didn’t know that much about Taehyung, but as she tried her best to decipher his behavior, she did find one thing.

Taehyung had expectations, from the way Jiyeon spoke, to certain actions such as something silly as not being allowed to hold in her breath. It showed that the man had his own reality of what was right and wrong… and the young girl felt as if the man considered himself many levels above her. She simply had to be obedient to him and let him take the lead.

All she had to do was be obedient…

“I slept well…” Jiyeon responded. It wasn’t a lie, last night she slept like a log, which was surprising in the conditions she was in but last night… was a lot.

Jiyeon gulped when she watched Taehyung take a sip of - judging on the condensation - an ice cold bottle of water. “I do… feel thirsty, sir.” She replied, sitting completely still.

Her lips parted at his order and she looked up at him as the tip of the opening touched her bottom lip. When she made eye contact with the man, her eyes focused on the wall behind him, becoming bashful at how close they were, in this strange intimate setting.

Not everything managed to make it into her mouth, a few streams gliding down her chin, a few continuing down her neck while others ended in pitter-patters on her pajamas.

The bottle moved away and Jiyeon felt much better now that she had something to drink. The last time she had something to drink was last evening, and any food was much longer before that.

“Sir…”” Jiyeon started, shifting in place as she tried to find the right words. “I couldn’t help but notice… these pajamas… they are mine, right?” She paused as she looked down at her lap. “You must have taken them from my house…” Then, Jiyeon forced everything inside of her body to pull her lips into a smile. “I don’t deserve the time you’ve put into me… but, thank you so much, sir…”

—🎙

“Good,” Taehyung hummed when the girl admitted to having a decent sleep.

His eyes never left hers as she swallowed down gulps of water, but he found something tugging on the corner of his lips. It was an amused type of feeling — Jiyeon never failed to entertain him, even when she was trying so hard to avoid his gaze.

Taehyung stood up from his spot in front of her, while twisting the cap back onto the bottle. She wouldn’t be needing any more for a while. He acknowledged the girl with nothing more than a hum when she addressed him, before setting the bottle down onto one of the stairs. But he paused, and his back stayed turned to her as she mumbled on.

“Jiyeonnie, you poor, naive girl … How dumb to you think I am?”

His movements were painfully slow as he turned on his heel and took a few steps in her direction. Jiyeon’s words were almost insulting. Did she really believe he’d fall for her sweet and respectful act? On day one? Taehyung settled himself back down in front of her, yet this time his hand reached out and grabbed her face.

“What are you trying to do, hm? What games are you playing here?” His eyes searched hers for answers before he leaned forward, pressing his body into hers with his lips near her ear, “No one likes a kiss ass, sweetheart. I don’t like a kiss ass.”

What was wrong with her? Where was the tremble to her body whenever he was near? The quake to her voice? Tears threatening to overflow in her eyes?

Where was her fear?

#🎙anon #serial killer!taehyung #yandere taehyung

[foxtophat]

MERRY CHRISTMAS IN JANUARY EVERYONE yeah i know ~nothing is fixed~ but whatever, fuck you, have some fanfic

so anyway i’ve been planning this for a while, i’m kinda shocked tho b/c i finished writing it in like less than 3 days??? (aside from editing)  usually it takes me longer to at least figure out how to wrap things up, but at least this one was easy money. i’m sure none of the other ones will be so kind to me

this one takes place a month or so after the last one; it’s set in spring 2028 (omfg finally on a new year!!!!) and it has a little something to do with carmina finally getting some chickens!!!!  one thing about new dawn that i think was really lacking is the explanation of how life... restarted before the highwaymen.  i definitely remember a few houses having chicken coops, too, so i know i’m not crazy putting these feathered friends in.  to me, chickens are the most sensible post-apocalyptic pet outside of a dog; easy to care for, provide food while alive AND after death, and they can reproduce easily enough if you’ve got a rooster on hand.  i can imagine a family making quite a life for themselves as a poultry farm in the apocalypse!

ugh idk what else to say so i’ll just say it: thank you so much for all of your comments and kudos on this series. i am so stoked to know that my self-indulgent trash is delicious to more than just my possum ass!  i’ve had a lot of fun worldbuilding in ubisoft’s playground, and i hope to continue doing more fun stuff that other people will enjoy too!!!

with all that said, i hope you enjoy the fic :) i’ll put it below the cut for you if you don’t wanna leave tumblr, but ao3 looks so much better. anyway, thank you and have a great jan 20th!!!!

Winter melts away the same way it does every year, leaving in its path wet dirt and green buds of spring growth. John, nursing what's likely the last cup of coffee they can wring from this batch of grounds, stares out over the back yard and idly marvels at how quickly the snow had disappeared. Montana had been his first experience with white winters; even though he's gotten used to the changing seasons in theory, though, he can't help but be distracted by it year after year.

Across the yard, situated just in sight by the hangar, John can plainly see Carmina's new chickens looking for breakfast. They're the newest addition to the homestead, but so far John has only had to watch from afar as the Ryes worked to adjust them to their new home. He's not sure who's raising chickens out here, but at least they were willing to barter. Fresh eggs are going to mean a lot more than the dwindling supplies out of Jacob's cache.

The misty-gray of early morning has almost evaporated in the rising sunlight, and still the chickens haven't been fed. John watches them from where he stands, their frustration leading to subdued crows as they scratch at the dirt. He doesn't know who's noisier — them, or Nick and Kim arguing at the table behind him. Thank Christ the wet end of winter is over; John doesn't think he can tolerate much more of their married nagging. On some level, he's glad they don't make a habit of yelling at him instead of each other, but Jesus, he can't wait for them to both get some space from one another.

"This is why we said we weren't gonna do pets, remember?" Nick says. "Because if she got a pet, we would end up taking care of it. Remember?"

"Yes, Nick, I remember."

"Yeah, and here we are!"

Kim sighs. John doesn't have to look to see the exasperated eye-roll that comes with it. "It wasn't me who kept her up late last night! Which one of us was egging her on when she should have been asleep?"

This is exactly why John has never owned a pet. They're more trouble than they're worth, and the only thing they seem to be good for is teaching shitty life lessons to kids who don't care enough to learn. The only good thing about the chickens is that they provide something in return other than obnoxious crowing.

Carmina thumps around upstairs. John isn't looking forward to having to listen to Kim lecture her on responsibility, but he's not thrilled to listen to much more of this bickering, either. If his choices are to stay inside and fester or go out into the first nice day of the year — well, that's not much of a choice, is it?

"Fine," John sighs before either of the Ryes can set their sights on him, "I'll do it."

"Nobody's asking you to do it," Kim replies. "It's Carmina's responsibility."

John shakes his head. "Of course it is. Where's the feed?"

Nick points out a white plastic container sitting on the pass-through to the kitchen. "Not gonna wait for us to boss you around?" he asks.

John picks up the container and rattles it to make sure it's full. "I'm streamlining the process," he replies. "Unless you enjoy giving me orders."

Sure enough, implying Nick might like being a bossy piece of shit is enough to get him to shut up. He sighs with a deep frown at John, who ignores him as he heads out to the coop. It's a petty satisfaction to take the rug out from under Nick's feet, but John's not above it. Not by a long shot.

Some of it might be compensating for the disintegrating peace that had come with winter. Before the blizzard set in, they'd had enough on their collective plates as they prepared for the worst of the season. Afterward, the snow had prevented them from doing much more than what was necessary to survive, and the resulting downtime had settled like a comfortable blanket. Even now, with a few weeks of grating interpersonal interactions, John feels more focused, more rested than he can ever remember feeling. Living underground for eight years, he'd naively thought that he'd gotten enough rest to last him a lifetime — but he'd been strung out on Bliss and trying not to suffocate, and he hadn't known what he was doing. He's starting to suspect that the Bliss might've had a worse effect on him than the myriad other drugs he'd ingested. Hell, he's not sure he's clean even now — but he's managing, and that's what matters.

It's only once he's halfway across the yard that John realizes Kim forgot to argue about him going off on his own. Sure, he's only going as far as the hangar, but it's become something of a pleasantry she uses whenever John pretends to have the freedom to go where he pleases. Her irritation at Carmina and Nick probably made her forget. She's gotten so used to trusting John that she's finally found other things to take up her attention.

Weirdly enough, the casual disregard for his potential backslide irritates him. It really shouldn't. He should be thrilled that he can finally disappear from view for an hour without somebody calling out a search party. He's more than earned it, he thinks, but their trust highlights their naivety. Luckily for them, John means it when he says he's changed — but it's a line they're going to hear time and again from people far less genuine than he's been. They're so willing to help everyone and anyone that they don't even realize how much of a target they're making themselves. John's had to hold his tongue whenever Nick gives free supplies to shifty-eyed tweakers who are "just passing through," and while he trusts Kim not to let anyone obviously suspicious into the house, he doesn't trust her to recognize a cunning liar.

The last thing John needs is for the Ryes to put their trust in the wrong reformed psychopath. At least he's capable of picking up their slack. After all, John has his time at law school and years of psychological abuse under his belt — plenty of real-world experience dealing with unrepentant garbage. He'll notice it when somebody cases the hangar or acts too erratically, and hopefully the Ryes will listen to him if he gets the nerve to voice his concerns.

Not for the first time since summer, John is struck with a newfound respect for Jacob and the role he'd inhabited in the Project. It used to be his job to look out for insurrectionists, and he'd taken on that burden even when John and Joseph would openly dismiss his concerns. John can't imagine how many fires Jacob must've put out while the rest of the family was distracted by the Bliss. Looking back on it now, it's honestly a surprise they maintained their operation as long as they did, considering only one of the four of them was ever sober.

The chickens are hopping at his arrival, scuttling around the dirt and crowing as John reaches the pen. They don't notice him so much as the bin he rattles on approach, full of vegetable cuttings and strange white worms that come out whenever it rains. John doesn't mind one lick — he's never been much of an animal person, and he certainly doesn't care if Carmina's so-called pets notice his existence. Of course, knowing Carmina, she's going to use this as an excuse to shift breakfast duty to John full-time, and John won't have much of a say in the matter.

Well, that's not strictly true, but if Carmina asked, he knows he would do it, if only to give his day more structure. Truthfully, he's grown to depend on routine, when before it was impossible to keep to a schedule that didn't involve other people's expectations of him. There's probably a metaphor to be made about trains on and off the tracks, but John has never been particularly interested in locomotives.

John shakes the dead bugs and scraps out into the pen, watching the hens as they race to be the first to eat. They're perfectly happy now that they've been fed, cooing and clucking as they peck the dirt. They certainly seem content with safety and food — not entirely unlike the survivors living day-to-day in the town and beyond. Sure, John might not always be satisfied by bare sustenance, and one day he'll chafe under the grind of surviving week to week, but for now, he might as well be a dumb chicken crowing in the morning sun.

He throws some more feed into the pen, watching the three hens waddle after their meal. One of them lingers by the fence, freezing for a moment as her head swivels back and forth. She pecks at the dirt away from the feed before hustling after her two companions. John watches as she stops again; when he tosses a few worms in her direction, she pecks briefly at them before lifting her head to survey her surroundings.

The primal sensation of something being wrong nearly overtakes John's reasoning, before he manages to remind himself that a chicken's predators aren't exactly his to worry about. Still, he rattles the container to bring the hens scuttling towards him; all three are easily distracted by food now, but John can't shake the feeling that he'd missed something they hadn't. A fox, maybe? A snake? Anything could be lurking in the woods on the other side of the wash. Not a whole lot that could hurt him , of course, but he's not about to be blamed for Carmina's chickens being eaten by a wild dog.

The fence-line is... nebulous past the hangar, sure, but John's positive Kim doesn't consider the rest of the old airport off-limits. Then again, she might be in the mood to lecture him once she gets through with Carmina. It's a risk he's not sure he's willing to take.

Two chickens continue to eat as one keeps watch, their heads bobbing up and down as they switch off. Their unease mirrors his own, and John can imagine Faith giggling at him for being swayed by some dumb birds.

"Very well, ladies," he sighs, shaking the remainder of their breakfast onto the ground. "Don't let them say I don't care."

The chickens don't give three shits about John's motivations, of course; they watch him go, pecking at the food with increasing carelessness as the distance grows. John rolls his eyes at their sudden fearlessness, half-convinced to let whatever animal is lurking eat them out of spite.

There's a wide swath of dirt behind the hangar, separating it from the mostly-overgrown remnants of Rye Aviation that couldn't be saved. John can see the edge of the chicken pen from here, but the hangar is blocking him from the house. Even though he knows the Ryes trust him not to run off, he still feels distinctly uneasy going somewhere where they can't see him. At this point, Nick would probably only tease him for it, but John's not about to linger out here and risk turning Kim's irritation on himself.

To the right of the derelict hangars is a sparse wedge of trees that have grown in uninterrupted. John knows there's a path cut between the trunks, one he'd made himself while hauling the tire-planters for Kim last year, and there's a long stretch of unused runway beyond it. It isn't a great place for anything bigger than a fox to lurk in. That doesn't explain the feeling of being watched that comes over him as he stops halfway across the empty dirt lot; he looks around, but there's no place for anything to hide out here. The overgrowth on the old hangars can't be more than two feet high, and the bushes in the copse are brambly and sparse. The only place anything could hide would be in the trees, which is why John approaches them with more caution than they're worth.

The thinned underbrush is easy to explore, but John goes carefully as he picks through the trees and bushes. He doesn't know exactly what he's looking for — some sign of predators, whatever those might be — but he doesn't find much. There are some hoof-prints clear in the dirt, curving sharply away from the Rye homestead and back out to the airstrip, which tells John that the goddamn deer are back, probably looking to eat their hard-grown crops. Other than that, there's no sign of anything that might be stalking the hen-house. The ground is still somewhat soft from the rain a few nights ago, but it barely takes the imprint of John's boots as he explores the small grove.

That's why it's such a shock to see the tread of a narrow boot in the dirt by the trunk of one of the trees, well off the beaten path. It's an old print, he thinks — but he doesn't remember the last time any one of them had been out this way. Certainly not since the last time it rained.

An electric shock conducts itself down his spine. Somebody had been out here, hiding here in the trees, and it's only been two, three days since the last rain. John turns, and from his vantage point, he can clearly see the coop and the back of the hangar, but not the house. For that, he'd have to move out of the trees, into direct view of the porch.

It has to be Grace's boot. She's the only one he could imagine creeping around the property with good intentions. But even that explanation doesn't settle the anxious flip of his stomach; he tries not to let it show as he marches from the trees, intent on dragging Nick over and proving to him once and for all that they need to be more goddamn careful about who they let around the property. Somebody is going to want the copper fixtures they've salvaged, even if there's nobody to sell the metal to these days.

John gets halfway back to the coop when he catches something in his peripheral vision. Terrible, primal terror grips him as he fixes his gaze on the trick of the light that had scared him, ready to catch Grace peering at him over the abandoned hangars, or maybe a pack of wild dogs. What he sees instead turns his blood to ice, caught like a deer in headlights as the low-hanging shrubbery and thick vines shift and part for a rising mass of dark brown fur. The shape that rises from the underbrush is a tall, dark smudge against the blue sky, and John nearly swallows his tongue when he sees its face — or the horrifying absence of one, replaced with white, flaking skin and two huge, empty eye-sockets that are fixed on John's position.

It doesn't move. Neither does John, frozen to the spot as the chickens begin to crow and fuss. He can't fathom what he's looking at — a bear, a person, a fucking mutant? — but whatever it is, he suspects it's infected with Bliss. Who knows how many angels ended up underground after the Collapse? What might've happened to them in the years since? All John knows about them is that they're dangerous to everybody but Faith, and Faith died a decade ago. If this is an angel — God, there'll be no stopping it. And if it isn't — then what the hell is it ?

There's no way for John to get from here to the house without the thing chasing him. The hangar is blocking his brutal oncoming murder from the two people who might actually be able to do something about it. He doesn't have to look to know the distance from here to the house is insurmountable.

The creature lifts its arm, and the situation that couldn't get any worse takes an even more horrifying turn as it reveals its weapon of choice: a crudely fashioned bow, the same kind of handmade weaponry that Joseph's followers have been seen with.

All at once, Nick's voice is ringing in John's ears, warning him of what's going to happen if this gargoyle takes him away. The things John hadn't considered before — the Ryes' reputation, Carmina's safety, the hard-won trust John's gained from the survivors — it's all in jeopardy. The situation barrels into him all at once — the realization that whatever Joseph did to create this thing , he won't hesitate to turn on John.

He tries to shout a warning, but his breath is caught in his throat. Faith's voice, faint on the breeze, laughs and whispers sing-song into his ear:

They've found you!

The monster barrels down the slope of the hill as if prodded into action by a hot poker. Its gait is wide, bringing it towards John at speeds impossible to outrun. This time, John's shout comes out clear as a bell, panic screaming through him as he turns and bolts for the house. He nearly clips himself on the pen as he hangs a sharp right turn, the porch coming into full sight —

Something snags the back of John's shirt, and his momentum briefly chokes him. A thick arm bears down across his neck before he can rip free, the creature grunting in exertion as it yanks him backward. John feels his boots scrape on the dirt as he's dragged towards the trees, away from the safety that's plain in sight.

Animal instinct kicks in. John gnashes his teeth but there's nothing to bite, so he kicks out his feet instead, first in front of him and then harshly backward until he can hook his shin behind his assailant's and trip them both to the ground. The creature goes down with a surprised grunt; John does his best to roll away, only to be yanked back by his hair. He's distantly aware that he's spitting like a cat in a sack, clawing and biting, the two of them rolling in the dirt as John screams profanities and heresy at the monster trying to pin him down, anything to convince the universe to take mercy on him for once in his fucking life!

The creature manages to grab him by the shoulder, throwing him into the dirt before backhanding him violently across the face. It's enough to daze him; for one horrible second, he's unable to do anything as the monster begins to drag him across the dirt by the legs.

There's a commotion coming from the house. For a split second, the creature looks up, and John realizes his opening at the same time the monster realizes its mistake. It looks down just in time for John to kick it square in its barky, hollow-eyed face, sending a split down the wooden facade.

" John !"

The monster reels backward as if burned, grabbing at the mask as it falls away. John catches sight of a single dark, wild eye behind the broken wood before he kicks out again, sending both boots into his assailant's chest. As soon as the creature staggers back, John bolts, scrambling towards Kim as she races toward him with the rifle drawn. Nick is hot behind her; he grabs John's shoulder and drags him partway back to the house. John doesn't need the escort, and so Nick quickly leaves him to scramble up the porch as he goes after his wife.

John gets all the way to the stairs inside before he realizes there's no safe place to hide. He'd found out this winter just how flimsy the prisoner story had been; if somebody wants to take him, all they have to do is climb onto the roof and jimmy the lock on the nearest window. Whether it's through the broken window in his room or a gap in the roof leading to the attic, the Project will find him. He can't possibly outrun them forever. He'd be stupid to even try. God, he'd been a fool for thinking Joseph wouldn't send someone looking for him, that he wouldn't want to snatch John back from the clutches of apostasy. There's no way Joseph will leave a loose end like him untied.

John sinks to the bottom steps in his mounting despair, only to realize for a second time that he's being watched. The realization is less of a shock as Carmina peers at him around the kitchen archway; she jumps at the distant rapport of gunfire, staring owl-eyed at John as though she expects him to do something.

"Stay down," John hisses, setting an example as he keeps low on his way into the kitchen.

"What happened?" Carmina asks, frantic, "Is mom gonna be okay?"

"Yes," John replies, although he can't possibly know that for sure. He waits a beat, listening for more gunshots, then carefully lifts his head to check out the window when none come. He lets out the breath he'd been holding when he sees Nick standing with his hands on his hips, staring at Kim further down the yard. Whatever the danger had been, it's not pressing enough to warrant immediate action.

"Seriously," Carmina whines, as if that could hide her fear. "What was it? Was it a bear? Grace says there are bears in the woods but I've never seen —"

John sinks to the ground, his mind reeling even as the panic passes, leaving him numb. "It wasn't a bear."

Carmina chews on her lower lip, looking up towards the window as though she might try looking for herself. "Are the chickens okay?" she asks.

"They're fine," he sighs. He pushes his hair from his face, only to realize that his hands have started to tremble with run-off adrenaline.

"Are... you okay?" she asks, frowning as though she can't decide whether or not his wellbeing is her problem to deal with.

Goodwill must be genetic, John laments. "I'm fine," he tells her. She gives his shaking hands a hard look; he sighs and reiterates, "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

"I'm not," Carmina huffs. Apparently, Nick's attempts to teach Carmina how to bluff haven't worked out.

John is saved from needing to reassure her as Nick abruptly appears in the kitchen arch, out of breath and red-faced. His shock gives way to relief at the sight of the two of them huddled by the counter. He's out of breath and visibly bewildered.

"Shit, John, you okay?"

"I'm fine," he says, although he doubts Nick will believe it any more than Carmina had. His foot jogs uselessly against the floor. "Kim — did she...?"

Nick shakes his head. "She tried," he says, "But it was too fast. What the fuck was it ?"

"Somebody from the Project."

"No shit. But — look, it wasn't an angel , was it?"

John shakes his head. "I don't know."

Kim storms into view, making her way to the pass-through from the living room side. She sets the rifle down on the counter, catching John's eye with a glare. John hurries to explain himself, as if he could possibly apologize for bringing the cult back to her doorstep.

"I was checking for foxes," he tells her, "I didn't think it — if I'd known what it was, I wouldn't have gone on my own."

Despite the fury in her eyes and the hard edge to her voice, Kim seems to mean it when she replies, "As long as nobody's hurt."

But the damage is done, and John can't help but babble on uselessly. "I wasn't looking in the right place. But I shouted as soon as I saw it. I just — couldn't outrun it. I wasn't fast enough. And I wasn't — it was stronger than I expected, stronger than..." Even he can hear the panic edging into his voice, cutting himself off with one last worried question. "Do you think it's gone?"

"It better be, if it knows what's good for it," Kim replies. "Are you sure you're okay?"

At any other time, John would be irritated to have to reassure every single Rye individually that he isn't in the throes of a panic attack. Right now, he's only grateful to realize that Kim doesn't blame him for the thing's appearance.

"I am," he says. "Thank you."

Nick groans, covering his eyes with one hand as he leans against the counter. "So much for it being safe to go out alone. Damn it, we got too comfortable."

" I got too comfortable," John says. "It wouldn't have cared about either of you."

"What about the chickens?" Carmina asks, "Are they safe there?"

Kim crosses her arms. "What I want to know is what the hell the Project is doing out here."

Her question is the only one John has any insight into, although he doesn't know how realistic his theory is. "They might be hunting deer," he says. "The only thing I saw, other than — than that , were deer tracks."

"All the way out here?" Kim asks skeptically.

"The hunting can't be any good in that swamp they're hiding in," Nick points out, frowning as he considers the idea. "And there are more survivors around the river these days. I'd bet that'd make for slim pickings."

"I doubt we'd even know they come out this far if I hadn't been the one out there. At least we've confirmed they're actively searching for resources beyond their compound — and they're relying on traditional methods to do so. Most likely because the armory was destroyed."

"Thank God for the Deputy," Nick sighs. "Okay. We're just gonna have to... I dunno, be willing to shoot, I guess." He doesn't sound so sure about it, and he quickly softens the intention. "At least a couple more warning shots. Once they remember guns outstrip arrows every way but sustainability, they'll probably keep back."

"We can push the fence-line out, too," Kim says. "It won't necessarily stop them, but at least it'll give them a line to cross. They're not cavemen — they remember property laws and how those get enforced around here."

"We'll have to start checking the traps more often. They might be living like bloodthirsty Mennonites right now, but that doesn't mean they aren't willing to steal to survive."

"They'll justify it one way or another," John sighs.

"So I guess we don't have to move the chickens after all," Nick says, "So long as we establish a perimeter. Sound good, Carmina?"

Carmina must have slipped out at some point during the conversation because she's nowhere to be found in the kitchen. Nick glances over John's head and out the window, swearing loudly.

"What the hell is she doing out there?"

John gets to his feet as Nick and Kim take off. He watches them through the window as they chase after Carmina, who's stopped to look around partway towards the coop. Either she's dumber than she seems, or she's inherited both of her parents' reckless streaks. Either way, she's going to leave herself open the same way John had. She's too confident that nobody wants to hurt her. The only way John knows how to teach that lesson, though, is not one that Kim or Nick would approve of — and so he sidelines his worries in favor of sticking with whoever is more armed than he is.

By the time John comes outside, Kim is knee-deep in the middle of a heated lecture about safety and responsibility. Carmina scowls at her feet, her face turning red as she's scolded. John ignores them, passing them by in favor of catching up with Nick, who's come to a stop a few yards past the coop. He's staring out into the unoccupied land — land that used to be his property, once. Now Nick is as much a stranger here as John is.

"Check it out," Nick says, holding out a thin, white-barked piece of wood. John takes it and recognizes it immediately as part of the mask he'd broken in two. The hole for the eye is a roughly cut gouge in the soft wood, and the bark flakes as he wipes his thumb across it.

"I hadn't even considered a mask," John admits. "I thought it was a monster."

"You and me both," Nick replies. He heaves a sigh. "Still waiting for the mutants to crawl out of the sewers, I guess. But I think we can handle a couple of jackasses with arrows."

John squints across the clearing, as if maybe his assailant has hung around waiting for them to reappear. "Next time, it might be Joseph," he points out grimly. "That hunter recognized me immediately. They'll tell him I'm here, and he'll want to find me."

"Come on. Like Joseph's gonna risk crossing enemy territory on foot. I'd be more worried about those goddamn hunting parties you used to send out."

John unconsciously reaches up to rub his throat. "Yeah," he says. "You're right. One of them clearly wasn't enough, but if Joseph decides I'm worthwhile, they'll come as a pack. If he's still manufacturing Bliss somehow, it would be easy to subdue me. And then..."

He's surprised out of his would-be reverie as Nick slaps his shoulder with a heavy hand. "We're not gonna let that happen," he says. "As long as you put up the same fight you did today, Kim and I are gonna come running."

Despite the reality of hidden archers and surprise ambushes, John allows himself to be reassured by the sentiment. At the very least, he pretends for Nick's sake. "I suppose you two were quick to the rescue," he drawls. "But if they get me to the tree-line, I'd rather you just put me down before I get dragged all the way back to the compound."

Nick chuckles. "We'll try to avoid that for now."

Looking over his shoulder, John catches Kim crouched down in front of Carmina, hands on her shoulders. Whatever she's saying, it's too quiet for John to hear, but Carmina's sniffles are a loud precursor to a lot of tears.

"I guess she believed you when you said the Project wouldn't care about us," Nick sighs. "At this rate, we're gonna have to put a bell on her."

"I could tell her about the child soldiers from the summer camp, if that would prove the gravity of the situation."

Just the mention of it makes Nick look a little queasy, and John immediately regrets bringing it up. "I don't want to scare her that badly," Nick says. "She's a good kid, she means well. She just needs to stop going off half-cocked, is all." He rubs his hand across his forehead and complains, "I thought we taught her to be smarter than this."

"She's still your kid," John says. Nick gives him a sour look, but it's the truth no matter how bitter Nick might feel about it. "You can't expect her to be utterly obedient, given her genetics."

"I guess ." He sighs, shaking his head. "At any rate, it's time we stop sugar-coating the cult for her benefit. She's obviously not taking it seriously."

John looks again and sees Kim embracing Carmina tightly. He can't help but worry about what might happen if the hunters come back. When he'd been with the Project, he'd understood Joseph's motivations — at least superficially — but now he's completely in the dark. They used to fill their ranks with abducted children and their desperate parents. He has no idea if Joseph is in a position to expand his flock, but if he is... John does not doubt that they'll start with the young and impressionable. Carmina, being young but not as impressionable as they'd like, probably wouldn't make it back to the compound before she got herself killed. He can't imagine anyone having enough patience to break her.

"You... uh, think we should be worried?" Nick asks after a brief stretch of silence.

"Not yet," John replies grimly. After all, the Ryes have a bargaining chip like no other, in case their daughter is ever taken. John can see to it that she's left alone, but it will only work once — and after that, who knows which brother will be sending hunters after her.

"Good thing we got ourselves a couple of extra guns," Nick says. "You and her are gonna have to start carrying pretty much everywhere."

"I'm sure people will love that."

"Fuck people, man, did you see the size of that fucking guy?"

John can't help a wry smile. "They weren't so big. If I were a couple of years younger, I would have taken them."

"Yeah, sure. "

The lecture must be over with for now, as Carmina's attention has turned back to her chickens. Kim watches her from a distance; John can't read her expression from here, but her posture is tense and defensive. John can't blame her — he doesn't have a parental bone in his body, but the stress of raising a child in these conditions isn't lost on him. Trying to instill a sense of fear into somebody who lived their formative years without a threat in sight can't be easy. Doubly so, considering Carmina can no doubt outgun the rudimentary weaponry the Project is utilizing. Hell, maybe they really are only a threat to him. Maybe it doesn't matter if Carmina sneaks out of the house.

"She won't leave unnoticed again," John decides, because it's the only promise he can genuinely keep.

"Oh yeah? You're gonna eat those words when she's a teenager."

"I'd hope she would be smart enough to bring back up by then."

"Me too." Nick exhales loudly enough to get Kim's attention, stretching one arm over his chest, then the other. "Well, I guess we better get started if we want to have anything to show for it by nightfall."

Even so, it takes Nick another moment before he brings himself to move. John lingers behind, unable to help himself as he eyes the trees distrustfully. There's nothing saying that hunter isn't still out there, watching them from a safe distance. If Jacob had a hand in training them, it's unlikely that John will ever see them coming again. He's likely lost the one chance at a level playing field, and he hadn't even realized it was something he could lose.

Fuck it. It doesn't matter. John has adapted time and again to every disaster in his life, and there's something to be said for the person who he's become. If this is the next catastrophe that he'll have to weather, then so be it. If he isn't capable of dealing with Joseph by now, then it's likely he never will be — and if that turns out to be the case, he can only hope that Kim is as quick on the trigger as she seemed to be today.

#far cry new dawn #fcnd #john seed #nick rye #kim rye #carmina rye #far cry fanfic #my fic #ugh tagging sucks on this site #mercyverse

[holidaywishes]

we shouldn’t be doing this...

  Summary: You and Morgan get frisky at a New Year’s Eve Party

  Warning: this is just... pure smut

  Author’s Note: Welcome to 2020! I hope everyone did lots of celebrating last night, I know I sure did -- and I’m more or less paying the price for it today. Anyway, I plan on doing nothing today but I, yet again, had a dream about Mo last night in my drunken stupor and needed to write it out. So, this is what you get.

  masterlist

  the other masterlist

  “We should’ve just gone to a bar” you whined to your friends around the large round table at the fancy New Year’s Eve party Morgan had roped you all into.

  “Oh come on (Y/N),” Morgan tried, “let’s just try to have a good time, k?”

  “I feel so out of place here, dude” your date for the night, Kevin, said as he held open his suit jacket, revealing the unraveling seams inside.

  “I’m shocked they let us in” Bethany joked

  “I’m not,” Shauna said, moving closer to Morgan, “we did come with Morgan.” You let out a scoff that you hoped no one noticed but sure enough, Mo caught your gaze

  “I’m sorry, Mo, you’re right,” you smiled at him before sighing, “thank you for bringing us. I’m just not used to the whole ‘fancy party’ thing for New Year’s.” He smiled back at you and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from showing your true feelings for Mo.

  “We’ll have a good time, I promise. We just have to loosen up the guests” Mo said, his eyebrow peaking up at the last words

  “Ahh, what he means is,” Shauna interjected, “we have to be the first ones taking shots...” You laughed as more nodded his head before he and Bethany headed over to the bar; only Bethany noticed you notice Mo as he walked away

  “What is going on?” she mouth from across the table and you just shook your head before Kevin could notice

  “I’m gonna go see if they need any help,” Kevin said, kissing your forehead as he stood up, “I’ll be back.”

  “Thank god! Now we can talk about this” Bethany said

  “There’s nothing to talk about” you tried

  “Uhm yes there is,” she nudged you, “you don’t check out someone’s ass when there’s nothing to talk about”

  “Beth!” you gasped

  “(Y/N).. come on, I’m not stupid. I know you brought Kevin here so you wouldn’t be alone at Midnight. What I didn’t realize is that you’re trying to make Mo jealous”

  “I’m not trying to make him jealous. He’s my friend. I don’t think of him like that. I just brought Kevin tonight because I thought we’d have a good time.” She raised her eyebrows once and dropped it. The thing was, as much as you hated to admit it, she was right. You met Morgan a little over three years ago through his brother and the two of you became fast friends but about a year ago, he practically saved your life when your ex tried to put you in the hospital. After that, he stayed very close to you -- checking on you throughout the day, scheduling lunches with him and the boys after practices, setting aside tickets for games for you and Beth and just generally being your “knight in shining armour;” ultimately making you fall in love with him. But you could never tell him because you were scared of what would happen if you did.

xx

Morgan’s P.O.V.

  You had managed to get most of the guests to take a few shots which meant the dance floor was filling up quite quickly and you sat back to watch the madness unfold. You heard (Y/N)’s laugh float across the table and you noticed Kevin pointing out something to her and you couldn’t help feeling... envious of him. When he left the table, you took the opportunity to steal his seat

  “Is this more of what you were hoping for?��� you joked, leaning into (Y/N)’s ear and noticing her smile grow at your question

  “Uhm yes,” she exclaimed, “all I ever want for New Year’s Eve is to watch people embarrass themselves on the dance floor. So this is perfect!”

  “I knew it!” you laughed as did she and she turned her body to face you slightly

  “So.. what are Morgan Rielly’s New Year resolutions?” she asked and all you wanted to say was ‘to kiss you’ but instead you just said

  “Get better at my game.. you know, to win that cup..” she chuckled and shook her head, looking like she wanted to say something but Kevin came in and asked her to dance as Hold Me While You Wait played

  “Sure!” she said and hopped up as he led her to the middle of the dance floor, placing his hands gently on her hips; your head dropping when you saw her smile at him

  “You gonna tell her?” Shauna asked, much to your surprise

  “Tell who what?” you played dumb

  “Tell (Y/N) you love her...” she said matter-of-factly and you raised your eyebrows, preparing to defend yourself, “relax. I won’t tell her if you’re not going to but I can totally see it. Which means I’m probably not the only one.”

  “I thought you were.. flirting with me..” you said awkwardly and she just smiled

  “Oh I was, definitely.” she stated, “If you asked me right now, I’d meet you in the bathroom or kiss you at midnight even though I knew I’m not the one you want.”

  “I don’t get it”

  “Good guys deserve good girls. And you, Morgan Rielly, are one of the best. If we did anything, it wouldn’t go anywhere and you’re too good of a guy for me to play any kind of game with you.”

  “Thanks,” you sighed, “but all that tells me is that I’m a good friend”

  “Au contraire,” she smiled and placed her hand on your shoulder, “it means your boyfriend material.”

  “If good guys deserve good girls, why do good girls always go for bad guys?”

  “(Y/N)’s ex was a bastard, we all know this, but she doesn’t always end up with those types. This was one guy she met and couldn’t see how awful he was because of the flashy apartment and nice things he bought her.”

  “But it’s not just her. Nice girls are always falling for guys who treat them like crap. So, it’s no wonder they say nice guys finish last”

  “Nu-uh” she shook her finger at you, “don’t be that guy. The ‘I’m tired of being in the friend zone’ wah wah poor me.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I just... it was a genuine question. Why do good girls choose bad guys?”

  “Because we’re fixers. We think we can fix the damaged people but deep down we know we can’t.” She admitted and you gave a small scoff, looking over to where (Y/N) and Kevin were just finishing their dance, “plus, we like a little bit of danger.”

  “Who likes danger?” (Y/N) said as she sat back down, this time beside Shauna and across from you

  “Me and Beth” she said quickly with a wink to you. Shauna seemed to drop it after (Y/N) didn’t ask questions but you couldn’t stop watching her when she wasn’t looking.

  “(Y/N), Wanna dance?” you asked confidently, noticing Shauna and Bethany’s faces fill with shock

  “Let’s do it!” she laughed; jokingly bobbing her head to the music as the two of you got to the centre of the dance floor. You watched the eyes at the table follow the two of you and you tried to escape the audience

  “Come with me” you whispered

  “Wha-- where are we going?” she said before you grabbed her hand and led her out of the ballroom

  “I wanna show you something” you replied

  “Mo, it’s almost midnight”

  “I know. There’s gonna be fireworks and I know the best spot”

  “I love fireworks. Show me! show me!” she joked and you led her over to a bay window

  “This is pretty,” she cooed, jumping up onto the step to look out the window, “ooh, you know what this reminds me of. Sound of Music. You know that scene with Liesl and Rolfe are singing...”

  “Mhmm, I thought you’d say that.” You smiled because you knew she was about to dance, so you crept up behind her so she didn’t fall if she twirled

  “I am sixteen going on seventeen. I know that I’m naive. Fellows I meet, may tell me I’m sweet and willingly I believe...” she twirled just as you’d expected but came face-to-face with you and she was silent for what felt like minutes but could only have been seconds, “I am sixteen going on...” she trailed off and cleared her throat. You took a step up onto the ledge where she was, careful not to leave too much of a gap between you and her.

xx

  You could feel your heartbeat in your ears and you were sure your face was beet red but you didn’t want to look away; he was so close and his eyes were so blue and he smelled like pepper and pine trees and it reminded you of your Grandpa who always put too much pepper on all of his food. You finally had to shake yourself out of the trance you were in and turned to look out the window

  “So, where can we see the fireworks?” you stammered, feeling his front press against your back and you were surprised at how forward he was being.

  “Just passed that clearing over there,” he said, pointing to an open space a few feet from the window, his hands were beginning to roam your body now and his lips were brushing across the top of your ear as he continued whispering, “they should be setting them up soon...” You were swept up in the way his hands trailed to the hem of your dress and how his thumbs felt so rough against your skin and how steady his breathing was that you didn’t notice you had let yourself fall back into him. When his lips finally met your neck, you let out a small moan and his hand continue to lift up your dress until his hand moved inside your underwear and his fingers found their way inside of you; your eyes popped open at the sensation

  “Morgan...” you moaned as your hand roamed down his arm, heavy breaths filling the empty hallways with each pulse of his fingers. His ministrations continued as did your pleasure and you were worried that someone might hear you so you snaked your hand up to the back of his neck to pull him in for a kiss; jolting his fingers to move quicker inside of you, forcing your mouth to fall open a small scream to escape before Morgan silenced the noise by continuing the kiss, tongues dancing with each other and breathing turning into panting; your eyes finally opened and for the first time you realized how exposed you were

  “Wait wait,” you breathed, “Morgan, we shouldn’t be doing this...”

  “Huh?” he said, fingers still curled inside you, “because of Kevin?”

  “What?” you creased your forehead and looked at him, his fingers stopping until you spoke, “no, I meant we shouldn’t be doing this here. It’s too public.” And just like that, with a smile flashed across his face and your hand still hooked on the back of his neck, he slowly took his fingers out of you and you whined at the loss but he turned you around and walked you to the wall, licking his fingers with you still on them and all you could do was bite your bottom lip.

  “That’s the fun part,” he said, moving his hands across your back and down to cup your ass, “knowing that anyone could catch us?”

  “Mo..” you giggled breathlessly and his lips found their way back onto your collarbone and his hands slipped back to the hem of your dress, “what if there’s kids outside? watching the fireworks? we can’t let them see us...” He stopped long enough to take a look out the window and where the fireworks would be and then back at you

  “I don’t care.” your eyes grew wide at his response, “I want you. Here. Now. You look too damn hot right now for me to wait until we can find a proper spot...” Before you knew it, he’d lifted you up and your legs were wrapped around his waist and you were craving every inch of him; your hands made quick work of his belt and pushed his pants down just far enough for his hardened member to surprise you with its size. You pulled him in for a kiss as he guided himself into you

  “Fu--” you gasped, “oh my god”

  “I’m not hurting you am I?” he asked and you just smiled

  “No,” you said, pecking his lips, “you’re not hurting me.” His pace was steady and controlled and every thrust had your eyes rolling to the back of your head; the pleasure so intense that you didn’t even noticed that your back was scratching against the brick archway, likely leaving marks. You trailed kisses down his neck as he continued to pump into you, groans leaving his lips and nails digging into your hips where he held you.

  “Fuck..” he breathed and you could tell that he was close, and you were too, he just needed a little push. So, you trailed your fingers up his neck to his ear before sucking on the lobe and whispering to him

  “Fuck me, Morgan.” He obliged and began thrusting harder into you much more aggressively than you thought but you weren’t about to tell him to stop; it felt too good. Soon after, though, he climaxed and coaxed you to yours, leaving the two of you breathless. He let you down from where you were pinned against the wall and he noticed the marks on your back, offering his coat to you and you smiled up at him, “so sweet,” you said as he kissed your forehead.

  “Oh look, it must be midnight...” he pointed outside, “they’re lighting the fireworks.” You watched him watch the fireworks go up and the lights shine across his face before you turned around and pushed yourself up to meet his lips, bringing him in for a deep kiss

  “Happy New Year, Mr. Rielly” you smiled when you pulled away from the kiss

  “Happy New Year, Mrs. (Y/L/N).”

#Morgan Rielly #Morgan Rielly imagine #Morgan Rielly smut #TML #NHL #TML Imagine #TML Smut #NHL Imagine #NHL Smut