#damn you overactive imagination

[screeching-bunny]

Yandere! Townspeople Harem x Lucky Reader

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

A/N: I have no clue what I was on when I wrote this 💀. This is also inspired by a Reddit post I saw long time ago.

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who are absolutely enamored by you and everything that you do. They treat you as if you are some kind of entity waiting to be put on a golden pedestal and paraded around town. You are essentially the town’s golden boy/girl/person, a mascot if you can even call it that. In their eyes everything that you do is inspiring and encouraged. It also doesn’t help that you were born with this amazing power that causes you to become extremely lucky. No matter the deed, every action was thrust into the spotlight as if it were a gracious gesture for the community's well-being. Take, for instance, if you ever fatally shot someone the townsfolk would erupt in applause, discovering the individual to be a notorious mass murderer and your action saved the town.

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who can’t help but gush over every miniscule achievement that you got. You got a perfect attendance award? They wouldn’t expect anything less from you. Did you just get a participation trophy? Well they're cheering for you as if you just won the world cup. To say their actions are embarrassing is definitely an understatement. Everytime they cheer for you, you can’t help but die a little bit on the inside.

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who absolutely cannot fathom the idea of you moving out of their town. They would much rather skin themselves alive and commit arson than to allow you to leave them. Everywhere you go, there will always be some form of eyes on you. There will always be some type of survance of you at any time of the day. Depending on the person, the townspeople's love for you can either be platonic or romantic. Basically half of the town wants to fuck your and the other half sees you as their beloved child or grandchild.

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who may or may not be human. Like sure they might have the occasional human sacrifices but what town doesn’t!?!? This is totally normal behavior that people exhibit. What’s that? Did you just see a tentacle coming out from that woman over there? Nahhh. You must be imagining that! What a cute and overactive imagination you have there. In all seriousness, it would literally die for you. You're just a cutie patootie to them. Your small teeth are so cute compared to their razor sharp fangs. You know, you could really use that small mouth of yours and suck on their–

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople have a monthly ritual where they gather around to brag about all of the items that they stole from you. Never in your life will you see someone so happy to own a pair of used underwear that didn’t belong to them or some used pair of socks. If you looked up a textbook definition of “down bad” then a picture of the Yandere! Townspeople would be the first images to pop up. In your presence these people act as if they had never touched grass or seen the sun before. They all seem to have some type of mutual agreement that in your presence, they would try to act somewhat normal in order to not scare/scar you too much.

—

From a young age, your luck was apparent. In school, while others struggled with exams, you breezed through them effortlessly, always managing to stumble upon the exact answers needed to excel. Teachers marveled at your natural knack for stumbling upon solutions, even in the most challenging of situations. As you grew older, the extraordinary luck only seemed to amplify. Job interviews turned into job offers within minutes, as if the universe conspired to ensure your success in every endeavor. Colleagues joked that working with you was like having a lucky charm around, as projects that seemed doomed to fail miraculously turned into resounding triumphs whenever you were involved. It might seem great and all BUT DAMN WAS THIS LIFE SO FUCKING BORING!!!! Which is why you decided to spice up your day a little and rob a bank.

“Oh hello [Reader]! Is this going to be the usual procedure?” The bank teller asks you with a smile on their face as you hold a gun to their face. “You know… the weather is perfectly nice today. It would be a perfect day for a date don’t you think–”

Suddenly a thunderous crash was heard, the police burst through the bank doors, their badges glinting under the harsh fluorescent lights. Guns drawn and voices booming commands, they swept into the lobby, faces masked with determination. Until the police chief sees you and lets out a tired sigh, “Guns down everyone, it’s just [Reader].” A faint sound of disappointed groans can be heard from the crowd of bank patrons from the back. “Why are the police here so soon, I didn’t get enough time to admire their pretty face.” another voice could be heard, “For real, their never this fast in an actual emergency. I mean they only just shot and killed one person, it's really nothing to worry about like who cares–”

—

“You are free to go [Reader], again.” the police officer states as she releases you from your handcuffs. “Turns out the man that you shot ended up being a drug dealer. You really have a special talent for catching criminals don’t you. She states as she gazes at you with loving eyes. ���You know I’m free after this shift, you think we can–”

Before she can finish her sentence you walk away with a dejected look on your face. You couldn’t believe how boring a day this turned out to be. Seriously, you wished that something exciting would happen in this town for once you think to yourself. Failing to notice a scene behind you. One that consisted of a bunch of monsters eating the souls of the innocent while on their knees for a statue that seemed to look like you. They all seem to be gripping onto something though– HEY, WAIT A MINUTE ARE THEY HOLDING YOUR UNDERWEAR!?!!?

#yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere harem #yandere townspeople

[leovenuslatina]

wet dreamzzz ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

THIS IS A 18+ READING. MDNI !!!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

his late night thoughts about you *wink wink*

(basically the thoughts they please themselves too🥵✊🏾💦)

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊this is just a reminder that tarot isn’t permanent or set in stone YOU decide how your life goes no one or nothing else now take a deep breath and choose the pile that calls to you ₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊˚⊹

TW: THIS SHIT GETS WILD

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

piles one - the moon, seven of swords, nine is pentacles

(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

okay so i’m seeing he’s staying up ALL night just thinking about you. you have him seriously in love i see him like making up scenarios in his head and just replaying them over and over and any sweet or romantic moments you two have he can’t stop thinking and smiling about it. i’m also seeing him replaying all the time you two have had sex he’s in love with how you look underneath him ����. he thinks about bending you over somewhere secret like in a closet at a party or in an empty parking lot. he gets off to the thought of him having you all to himself he likes the idea that you have to rush to make each other cum before the two of you get caught. he thinks about taking you away from prying eyes and doing whatever he wants to you. he really likes bending you over okayyy he’s like so in loveeee with that ass he may even like pulling your hair while he thrusts into you from behind whispering sweet nothings into your ear. he may also think about role playing with you meeting in a bar or something and pretending like you’re strangers and having a quickie in the bathroom.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

pile two - ace of swords, wheel of fortune, eight of cups

₍^⸝⸝> ·̫ <⸝⸝ ^₎

their late night thoughts about your pile two are pretty dark and twisted 🤭 i don’t know if he’ll tell you about them because im seeing these are like deep deep secret thoughts they have they’re super depraved and thirsty for you like putting you in handcuffs and freaking you all night til you collapse. He thinks about tying you up taking full control of you he might have a fetish for like ropes and stuff he’s a huge freak god damn lmao. they think about you giving them a hand job i’m seeing he’s huge into body worship like you worshiping his dick or like they just think about you on their dick they have a fast paced mind when it comes to you one perverted thought after another. in his mind he can go as wild as possible and not worry about any sort of judgment not that he thinks you’ll judge him he just knows his freaky lil mind would make others shudder. he thinks about being real rough with you leaving hickeys and bites all over your body throwing you like his own personal sex doll. your person has a very overactive imagination.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

pile three - queen of swords, death, the hanged man

(,,>ヮ<,,)!

their late night thoughts are you just you everything about you turns them on. they think about watching you and what you look like when you’re in bliss. watching you playing with yourself watching you moan and sigh but not just that. just watching you do normal daily activities like reading or eating they are your BIGGEST simps omggg. literally just imagining your gorgeous face makes them so hard or wet it just gets them all hot and bothered. your person imagines you in a threesome if that’s not something you’re into that’s okay because these are just late demon hour thoughts lol. they probably have a huge kink about seeing you getting it on with another person. their kink is your delight so the thoughts that filled their mind are not entirely dirty i wouldnt be surprised if he has a folders of your smiling selfies just to beat off too. you honestly are their only thought not just late at when he’s alone.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

for paid private readings dm me 💘

3 questions - $20

6 questions - $30

long channeled message - $90

plzzz no questions about health or death ☠️

#black tarot readers #pick a card tarot #tarot #daily tarot #pick a pile #tarot cards #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #tarot daily #future spouse #18+ mdni #mdni #18+ content #18+ only

[spicycinnabun]

“Steve, something is wrong with Christofern!” Eddie entered Steve’s room, cradling the potted plant in his arms.

He’d come home after work, ready to greet his bud-dy, but one look at him had made Eddie gasp. His leaves were shriveled up like sad little green raisins. Usually, they were puffed up like oversized Rice Krispies.

Christofern had been Robin’s, originally. It had been in a very sorry state on her windowsill before she’d left for college—a lot worse than it looked now, under Eddie’s care, thank you—and she’d told him, “I honestly can’t stand the thing. You keep it. It sheds worse than my aunt’s Great Pyrenees, and I’m tired of vacuuming. Just don’t throw it out, or Steve might murder you.”

And that had been that.

Christofern didn’t look like a typical house plant. He wasn’t a fern, which Steve kept reminding him. Steve was more practical. He didn’t give his plants names but called them by their designated labels.

Christofern was a Donkey’s Tail, or sedum morganianum, part of the succulent family. That term meant absolutely nothing to Eddie unless it was referring to a big bowl of pasta—he had no idea there was a whole plant category called delicious.

“But maybe he wants to be a fern, Steven,” he’d argued. “Ever thought of that? He doesn’t have to be a succulent just because he was assigned so at birth.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” had been Steve’s reply.

At first, Eddie had enlisted Steve’s help purely because he’d wanted his attention, and talking about plants was an easy as hell way to get Steve’s attention. Steve was a very passionate plant dad. But later, Eddie grew to love Christofern, and the trials and tribulations of learning how to care for him were almost like raising his own child.

Christofern had not just one but seven long, thickly spiked green tails. Seven tails. He reminded Eddie of a mutated dragon. He was adorable but occasionally grumpy and high-maintenance, like a certain someone Eddie knew. (Perhaps Christofern was more of a prince than a dragon—a dragon prince?)

If he didn’t get enough sunlight, his leaves shed, and he wilted. If he wasn’t rotated daily, he got yellow and sunburnt. And if he didn’t get enough water…

“I swear I watered him... uh, recently.” When had Eddie last watered him? Not the day before, but maybe Wednesday? Or had it been Tuesday? Shit. Eddie pouted. “I just gave him a drink now, anyway. It’s not too late, is it, Doctor Steve?”

He clasped his hands and watched Steve’s attentive eyes rove over his plant, waiting for the diagnosis.

“Eddie, how could you neglect Christofern like this? I should call Plant Protective Services.” Steve grabbed his hand, startling Eddie and his overactive heartbeat.

He took Eddie’s index finger and pushed it into Christofern’s soil right down to his second knuckle. It felt inappropriate. Eddie made a noise, appalled. “Steven, why are you making me violate Christofern?”

Steve ignored him. “What do you feel? The soil is soaked down there, isn’t it?”

Eddie wiggled his finger. It felt goopy. “Yes,” he admitted.

“You’ve overwatered it,” Steve chastised. “Now, the leaves might rot instead of rehydrating themselves. You’ve got to make sure you don’t drown it. Christofern only needs a moderate amount of water every two weeks, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie said meekly. “I’m sorry, Christofern.”

Steve pulled his finger out of the soil and gave him a look bordering on amusement. “Leave him with me for a few days, and I’ll get him back to where he should be.”

“Thank you, Doctor Steve. How can I ever repay you?” Eddie imagined repaying Steve with his mouth, his tongue, his hands (after he washed the soil off)…

“You can clean the bathroom,” Steve said.

Eddie’s fantasy shattered. He whined. “Does it have to be that?”

“Yup.”

“Damn it, Steve, just make me suck your dick next time,” Eddie grumbled on his way out.

He missed the way Steve’s jaw dropped.

#fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie au #roommate au #steddie fic #plant dad steve harrington #crack fic #christofern is their love fern #eddie won’t let it die #🪴

[kaizokuniichan]

Attention Part 5 - Even Exchange

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro/AFAB Reader (referred to as she/her)/Trafalgar Law

Summary: You and Law finally come together in the most complete way.

Also known as: The chapter where Dev’s music nerdery is overwhelming (seriously there are an obscene amount of music references

CW: Mutual mastubation, oral sex, vaginal sex

Previous Chapters: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Word Count: 4.8k

Author’s Note: Slight spoiler for Law’s new awakened technique. I’m not sure of the exact logistics of how it works so I took some liberties for the sake of plot.

MDNI; 18+ READERS PLEASE

Divider by @/cafekitsune and banner by @/eelnoise

As you blinked yourself awake and took in your welcoming surroundings your stomach twisted into knots. For a moment you believed you’d been tricked by your overactive imagination—god knows how many times you’d dreamed of him bringing you here. Unsurprisingly it was cozy and dimly lit, slightly fragrant with the spicy scent of incense. The walls of course were metal but that didn’t make it feel unnaturally cold. A grand, Cedar wood desk stood proudly across from the bed with well-worn books and various articles strewn about in a disorganized heap.

“What’s with the mess?”

Striding over to join you, he quickly stacked the books and shuffled his papers.

“You damn Strawhats have been a constant pain in my ass even more these days.”

Giggling, you slid off the bed to admire the shiny coins displayed on the shelf above.

“You collect these?”

With a start he looked up, ears burning as you leaned closer to inspect them.

“Uh yeah. Just a little hobby of mine to pass the time.”

Your chest tightened as it inflated with affection.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I think it’s cute. I like knowing you have something that helps your uptight, nonexistent ass unwind.”

He peered intently into your eyes and you suddenly felt shy, as you always were around him. His stare was always so intense.

“Feel free to take a tour around the place. It’s not much but I’m happy to share it with you. If you’d like to stay.”

You cocked a mischievous brow.

“Are you planning on ravishing me tonight Law?”

He smiled without any skin-crawling lecherousness.

“I would love to, but we certainly don’t have to. You don’t even have to stay here tonight if you don’t want. I just wanted to show you my room and spend some time together since we’ve...had to keep a lower profile these days.”

“Not that it really matters considering Jean Bart keeps making suggestive comments about how his captain won’t stop drooling over me.”

His cheeks tinged a soft pink, yet he was bold enough not to deny it.

“Well…he might not be wrong.”

He gave you a crooked smile as he looked you up and down, letting his eyes drag over your bare legs exposed by your sleep shorts. As your body heated you felt a distant second heartbeat in your pelvic floor. You’d never not be amazed by how openly he desired you. How someone like him could desire you. You were someone whom he lusted after, and while it was exhilarating, it was also quite intimidating.

It’d been hard being so near him when you couldn’t touch him the way you wished. Onboard the Sunny you’d been nothing short of a stubborn barnacle at his side—shamelessly sidling up and wrapping yourself around him in an immovable grip. You’d been cautious during the early days of your tentative connection, but the more time you spent together—and after your very passionate excursion in the aquarium—you found him more than willing to allow you to handle him however you pleased, even responding in his own way. A secret squeeze of your thigh under the table and a brush of fingers when you were out in the open were his subtle showings of reciprocity. And of course the many secret kisses. Those were the best.

“Is there uh, a bathroom nearby? I’m a little warm. Wanna splash some water on my face.”

“Am I making you nervous?” He teased, eyes still twinkling with mirth.

“Um. Yes?”

He was so smug you wanted to kick him—he really could be such a bastard when he wanted. Sometimes he liked to be cheeky, and you loved those rare moments where he was laid-back and playful. How it made the cadence of a snare drum kick against your ribs.

“There’s an en-suite bathroom just to the left of the bed.”

“Oh how fancy.”

He stepped closer and in a mild panic you leaned to the side and rolled across the bed to where the bathroom stood. His soft laugh became muffled as you closed the door behind you.

The bathroom itself was nothing extravagant, but you hadn’t expected it to be. Perfectly practical, it was minimally furnished with nothing but the bare essentials. Two towels hung on a wooden rack, two toothbrushes sitting in a cup on the small counter. A grey bath mat lay at the foot of the shower stall, and from what you could see inside the shower, containers of liquid soap, shampoo, and conditioner.

As you walked up to the sink you noticed a small bottle of what appeared to be an oil cologne. Opening it and taking a sniff you were stricken with the same heady aroma he always carried on his skin and clothes. The scent, blended with a hint of antiseptic, always lingered after your brief hugs, and you’d spent many a night breathing it in whilst your hands played between your legs. Just a small whiff brought an immediate wetness to your panties.

Setting the bottle back down, you faced your reflection in the small mirror and pondered just how fuckable you looked. Your deliberation was tireless but necessary, and you wondered what it’d be like to fuck him. How he’d look. What he sounded like. What he tasted like. Were you going to fuck him tonight? You very much wanted to, but you were so anxious as to whether or not you’d even be good enough for him. You’d never had any complaints from previous partners, but Law seemed like someone who was difficult to please. What if it made things awkward? He was already such an awkward man, you’d hate if things became even more awkward.

“I hear you thinking in there, so I’ll just send you back to your room if you want.”

You bounded for the door and flung it open in a panic.

“Don’t you dare.”

He sat on the bed facing away from you.

“I don’t want you to feel any pressure.”

“I don’t feel pressured. I wanna stay here with you tonight.”

He turned to face you skeptically, refusing to move an inch from his seat.

“Law just get comfy. And take off those damn heeled boots.”

With another small smile he rose from the bed and crossed over to a closet you hadn’t noticed. Kicking off his shoes and pulling his sweater over his head, he revealed inch by inch the dark ink on his back contrasting with his tan skin—slightly obscured by the white tank top he’d been wearing underneath. You growled in frustration as he sat back down.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, turning his body to look at you.

“Nothing, it’s just. You spend all day with your shirts almost fully unbuttoned so I get a full view of your tits, but now that we’re alone you won’t even let me get a proper look.”

He turned back around and you were utterly mesmerized by the way his shoulders and biceps were accentuated by the flimsy fabric.

“I don’t do free shows, you’re gonna have to work for it.”

“You give enough free shows every day with those slutty clothes of yours.”

His breathy laugh filled you with tendrils of honey.

“Maybe if you’re good you’ll get something special.”

You hoped the sound of your gulp was only audible to you.

He observed with amusement as you stumbled over to the other side of the room, reaching your destination back at the desk. When you rested your bottom on the edge your fingers played with the grooves in the wood.

“I think we’ve done enough talking today Law.

His bouncing leg halted when you leaned back on your hands.

“I think so too.”

“Then…come here.”

If you could find a word to describe the way his body moved you’d settle on saunter. His lithe form beheld true majesty as he glided over to you—a little terrifying and absolutely thrilling.

He now towered over you, heavily sunken eyes filled with an almost primal, commanding lust. The tips of his fingers touched your cheek as he stepped closer, and the front of his legs pressed into yours.

You scooted back when he softly ordered you to sit. Immediately you spread your legs to allow him to accommodate the space between, and you looked into his eyes as he cradled your face. Blown wide irises roved endlessly as he studied you, mapping out every delicate feature. You placed a hand on his chest while the other reached up to play with the small hoop earrings in his lobe, tracing your thumb along the smooth surface.

You felt his body shudder as you tickled his sideburns, running your pads down his jawline where they met with his goatee. An indecipherable sound rumbled in his chest when he stepped deeper into your space, and he tightened the hand around the back of your neck as he leaned down.

There was no fanfare when your lips melded into a careful kiss. Your hand on his chest tightened it’s hold and wrinkled the fabric of his shirt while the other wrapped around his neck. It was uncertain whose tongue slipped into whose mouth first but they soon became entwined.

His hands slid down your sides in slow reverence as a whine curled in your throat. When he pulled you closer to bring your center flush with his hips, you marveled at how perfect he felt. Far better than what you could ever have imagined. Despite his lanky appearance his body was sturdy and solid. Carefully crafted as a means for survival.

Your hands continued to caress each other as he dug his fingers into your hips. Unsurprisingly (or maybe surprising to you) he was hard, and you felt a quaking in your thighs that would’ve made you crumble to the floor if you’d been standing. He continued to grip you with more assurance — much more demanding than any other time he’d touched you. Slipping his hands beneath your shirt to fondle your breasts, his thumbs rolled lightly over your nipples as he spread his fingers over your ribs. Throaty whimpers pierced your lust-filled haze as your hips undulated against his, desperately seeking relief.

His lips slipped from yours to make a drunken voyage down your jaw, teeth catching on your skin and licking flames of heated passion behind. He clutched you impossibly close and you wrapped your legs around him.

“You’re crushing all of my papers,” he murmured, voice low and dipped in chocolate.

“Good. Fuck those papers.”

Your hand began a journey to the top of his jeans, unfastening the button and pulling down the zipper. His hand came to grasp yours as if to stop you, and when you looked up you were met with a question lining his golden irises. You reassured him with a nip at his bottom lip, sliding his pants down just enough to comfortably slip your hand inside. His body was hot and trembled with restraint, and he let out a hiss when you swirled a thumb over the already wet, flushed head.

The air in the room suddenly felt cold when he stepped back.

“I...I want you to watch me.”

Your mind became waterlogged as he took a seat across from you on the bed.

“If you really want to hold my attention take that shirt off.”

He smirked, shifting back and pulling his jeans down to the middle of his thighs.

“You first.”

You hadn’t expected this level of sultry confidence from him. Normally he was especially careful when the two of you were alone—never wanting to make you feel as if he was taking advantage. He’d always allowed you to lead.

Yet the basis of your relationship had always been an even exchange, and you were more than willing to comply.

His breath hitched when you slipped your shirt over your head to reveal your bare chest and pert nipples, and his eyes kept yours leashed as he began to stroke himself. You’d never felt more assured of his attraction to you than when your eyes were tethered to his.

He allowed you a moment to admire his dick as he removed his shirt, and you were almost too eager to have it in your hands. Or mouth. Or pussy. Anywhere he wanted to put it really.

He leaned back, allowing dribbles of pre-cum to leak onto his abs, and you wrestled with your mind to accept the reality that this unbelievably gorgeous man was pleasuring himself to the live image of you. With his shirt tossed aside, he allowed you to feast on the hilly planes of inked tan skin and sinewy muscles, all converging into a delectable point between his pelvic bones.

“Law...do you even realize how sexy you are?”

His mouth quirked with pride, still languidly stroking himself.

“I’m glad you think so,” he replied, the soft tenor of his voice making you throb.

“I refuse to believe I’m the first person to tell you this.”

He sucked in air through clenched teeth and moved his hand faster.

“Well, you’re the first person it ever mattered to hear it from,” he sighed, the flushed head poking between the middle of his fist.

“You want it?” he asked.

“God yes,” you breathed as your pussy clenched.

He leaned over to grasp the rolling chair at his desk and dragged it over in front of him.

“Sit here.”

Almost immediately you complied. Pulling off your shorts and opening your legs you felt the cool air seep into the dampness of your panties.

“Are you gonna put on a show for me Law?”

His hips stirred and he picked up the pace, lips parting as he took in short breaths.

“If that’s something that you want.”

Your center continued to pulsate and you went to snap your legs closed when he grunted a sound of disapproval and shook his head.

“No. Let me see you.”

You’d heard him be commanding before—he was the Captain of a notorious pirate crew after all. But this new authoritative tone he directed at you suggested he wasn’t to be defied, and it excited you. So you opened your legs for him.

“What would you like for me to do Law?”

He breathed shallowly as he pumped himself—liquid pearls dribbling over his knuckles.

“I want…you. All of you. But first I’d like to see how excited you can get for me.”

You let your hand drift between your legs as a sumptuous chill trickled down to your toes.

“Why won’t you touch me?”

He huffed, spreading his legs wider as he bucked his hips.

“He’s already done that for you, hasn’t he?”

Heat fanned across the back of your neck as you were brought back to your kitchen dalliance with Zoro several days prior.

“I wanna do things differently.”

You huffed in frustration. “Well…at least let me put your dick in my mouth.”

His hand stilled as a surprised chuckle escaped him.

“We can do that in a little while. Spread your legs and pull your panties to the side for me.”

You wanted to protest and move things along far more quickly but you understood his need to move at his own pace. And the slow-burning foreplay was definitely not unwelcome.

It was almost embarrassing how slick-saturated your panties had become as you tugged them to the side. Cautiously you looked down and swirled your finger around your bud, releasing a sigh of relief.

“Look at me.”

It’s not that you’d never had an audience before, but Law’s presence made you incredibly self-conscious and unsure.

But as you looked back to him you remembered what made you fall for him in the first place. He’d been so insistent on fixing a part of yourself you’d believed to be broken—like the worn binding of an aged book—and he’d repaired you good as new. Your heart bloomed with achingly sweet love.

Your eyes fluttered while slipping a finger inside yourself, and he groaned as his fist moved faster.

“Fuck. Never seen anything so pretty.”

You melted.

“Oh Law.”

His brows furrowed as he tugged himself, adam’s apple bobbing with every gulping breath. You clenched when you added another finger.

“You want me to eat that pretty pussy of yours?”

You whined louder than you’d intended.

“Yes. Law please.”

“Slip another finger inside.”

Your body was wracked with shudders that had nothing to do with the cold air. A stone sunk into your belly as you eyed his dick still being fisted in front of you. He was much thicker than what you were capable of providing for yourself, even while pumping the three fingers inside you without being told to do so. Finding it difficult to keep contact with his probing eyes you dropped your head back with a shameless moan.

“Law I want you so badly.”

You heard him grunt as he halted his movements.

“I wanna give it to you love.” Suddenly his eyes flew open.

“Um..I mean...”

You lifted your head back up and smiled.

“Did you just call me love?”

“I didn’t mean…that’s not what I meant to say.”

His scrambling was impossibly cute and completely fruitless. Sliding off your seat you knelt down and settled between his legs. When you looked up his lips were parted and glistening as his chest heaved imperceptibly faster.

“You know, you called me baby that one time too.” He rolled his eyes to hide his embarrassment but you saw it anyway. “I never took you as the type to give pet names.”

Covering his scorching hand with yours, you gripped his fist and guided him, squeezing it in with reassurance.

“It was just a slip of the tongue. I didn’t mean to say it.”

“Oh didn’t you?” You gave him a pout. “Am I not your baby? Am I not your love?”

He cupped your cheek with his other hand, tilting your face up to look at you properly. What a sight you must’ve been, nestled between his legs as he pulled himself closer to release. You hoped it was everything he’d dreamed of. He leaned down to give you a kiss, gripping your jaw tightly.

“I’ll call you whatever you like. I’ll give you whatever you like.”

You shook your head and you leaned back.

“I’m gonna give you something first. Straighten up and watch me.”

You could see him wanting to argue but your sharp look held him back. He sat up and watched as you leaned closer to run your tongue along the trail of dark hair leading to where both your hands held him. The pheromones of his desire left you intoxicated as you transformed into a feral seductress for him—burying your head between his legs. After swatting his hand away you wasted no time. Despite the saltiness that stained your tongue it was mixed with a decadent sweetness. Slowly you picked him apart as you licked along the underside.

The heavy hand gripping the back of your head was welcomed, though he still made no move to force you down. For now he was weakened by the endless weeks filled with pining and yearning, and he allowed you to take control. The wait had proven to be worthwhile as you slid further down until your nose met his pelvis. He felt heavenly in your mouth. As he tickled your esophagus you were brought back to a supposed trick given to you by a friend that was said to prevent gagging. Tucking your thumb into your fist you sucked him slowly, bobbing your head up and down gently. His other hand came back to rest on your cheek in a moment of tenderness that counteracted the sublime sin in your mouth.

Evidently the supposed trick was proven to be false for when he poked the back of your throat you gagged. His hands attempted to pull you off but you remained in place—resigned to keeping him completely encased in your warmth. Taking one of his hands off your face you tangled your fingers together and breathed through your nose, resuming your hedonistic suckling.

The faster you sucked the more his breaths became ragged. He was a fairly respectable man when he wasn’t a merciless pirate, though his careful respectfulness only encouraged your mouth to service him more provocatively. He deserved it. You let your saliva run freely as trails of drool dribbled past your lips, lapping your tongue sloppily around the shaft. With an erotic hum you slurped him down your throat. He panted as more of your mouth juices coated your fingers, and he gripped your head tighter as curses tumbled from his lips.

“Fuck. You love having me in your mouth, don’t you?”

You removed yourself from his length and sat back on your knees, eyes wet from your fervent efforts.

“I love it. I love it so fucking much.”

He shifted to lean his arm on the mattress, cocking his head to the side.

“You want me to fuck your pretty mouth?”

You were unable to answer, too preoccupied with rocking back and forth for some relief.

“Well?”

You took him in your hand and stroked idly as you carefully considered your words.

“I wanna shove you so far down my throat that I can hardly breathe.”

The hand still on your head tugged you closer until you were a mere centimeter away. Your tongue poked out to swipe kitten licks along the head.

“Go ahead and show me how much you want me”

Molten molasses dripped into your panties as you gobbled him up, consuming him completely. You pulled more grunts from his lips, licking, bobbing, and slurping noisily. You made it nasty, showing how much you hungered—how much you craved him. No longer holding himself back he groaned and began thrusting into your mouth. Holding you in place he bucked his hips, shoving himself further down your throat. All hesitancy of his vanished as he used you, tugging his pants down his knees and squeezing his thighs around your head. His ragged breaths grew heavier as you brought him closer and closer to the edge, and you prepared yourself to swallow his milk when he forcefully pulled you off.

“Law please, let me...”

“Get up and lay on the bed.”

You wanted to continue protesting but you were still in an agreeable mood and did as you were told, sitting down on the plush mattress and scooting back against the pillows. He stood to remove his pants and boxers in one fell swoop, making the mattress dip as he mirrored your previous position between his legs.

“I’m gonna give you something he hasn’t, and I want you to picture him watching as I make you cum.”

An icy fist clutched your heart as flashes of green skittered across your mind’s eye. You could almost feel the other stolen piece of your heart toss you a look of amusement as Law slid off your panties. A warm and dexterous tongue flicked between your lower lips and you let out a whimper and covered your mouth.

“Lemme hear you,” he murmured into your skin, nosing your bud.

“I don’t want my voice to bounce off the walls. What if someone hears?”

He considered your words before sitting up.

“Room.”

An invisible, spherical barrier of chantilly lace enclosed your bodies in a noiseless cocoon.

“Silent.”

“What the hell was that?”

He laid back down and kissed your folds.

“Now no one will be able to hear you except for me.”

A thrill of electricity sparked as he hooked your legs over his shoulders—your heart thundering in your chest as his breaths puffed against your sex. A slick river of ambrosia trickled down towards your ass and he licked it clean, groaning as he buried his face into your pussy.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.”

You wished he hadn’t brought up your eventual departure as your eyes prickled with unshed tears.

“Law, please don’t.”

He licked a long stripe between your folds, wiggling his tongue inside to lap at your juices. Your head fell back as he devoured you, strumming the strings of your longing and playing a ballad of burgeoning ecstasy. The frolicking staccato of your moans married with the symphonic melody of your panting—crescendoing louder when he thrust three fingers inside. Notes of D, E, and A pulled a debaucherous allegro from your walls. He tuned your body to the very key of his choosing.

You clambered closer and closer to your peak and you knew you’d be too exhausted to continue if you prematurely toppled over the edge. With laborious difficulty you pulled him off your heat, shuddering as your body somersaulted back down.

“Law I need you to fuck me. I can’t wait anymore.”

Danger flashed in his eyes and you flattened yourself into the bed.

“I hope you know what you’re asking for. I’ve been holding myself back all this time.”

You knew he wasn’t just referring to tonight. Shuddering from the threat you opened your legs wider and parted your pussy lips with your fingers as an invitation to him. He covered your body with his and lay wet kisses on your face.

“Law. Please.”

His hand cupped your jaw and turned your head to the side, licking sloppy swipes of his tongue along your neck and down your throat. His hips ground against yours as he coated his dick with your juices.

Taking hold and positioning himself at your entrance, he poked your puffy flesh with his head. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he surged forward, halfway sheathing himself inside. He filled you more and more as he bucked his hips forward, further enveloping himself inside your wetness. As he settled at his hilt you brought your knees up, opening yourself completely for him to take.

“Law I want you to use me”

He throbbed and slid his arms beneath your back to grasp your shoulders and hold you close.

“I’m not going to use you. I’m going to pour everything into you that I’ve wanted to give to you all this time.”

You gasped when he thrusted roughly, the slow and steady rhythm of his balls slapping against your ass making you quiver. His mouth hovered over yours as his fingers dug into your flesh, and the harmony of your moans smoothed over the carnality of your want. Your sweat-slicked bodies glided against each other, and the squelching sounds of your slick ricocheted against the walls of your sonically concealed bubble. Senseless babbling urged him on as he fucked into you faster, knocking himself into your hips and pressing your knees up to your chest.

“Fuck, I wanna keep you. Wanna keep you right here with me. Can’t let you go.”

Goose-pimples freckled your flesh as you gushed around him. He’d hit your fleshy and sensitive center sooner than you’d hoped, and you arched off the bed with a wail.

“Law…Law…Law…” you chanted, curling into him when he released his bruising grip on your legs. As he continued grinding his hips the springs of the bed squeaked in exhaustion, and you were endlessly thankful for his versatile technique.

“Can I have you? Are you mine?”

“I’m yours Law. I’ll always be yours.”

You felt a moment of guilt knowing there was still another piece of your heart being held by another man, but you were soon distracted when the stilted pap, pap, pap of his hips grew rougher, and his hand lunged forward to grip the headboard. Your world was filled to the brim with watery sobs and heady groans, rising into an amalgamation of calcified bliss.

You came before him when his calloused fingers slipped over your bud in messy circles—quaking and shivering as your toes curled. Your body continued to shake as his skin slapped into yours, filthy promises of ruination filling your ears.

He soon pulled out and fucked into his fist in a frenzy, spilling himself on your stomach and thighs. Your heaving breaths intermingled with his as he dragged his dick filthily along the trail of his spend.

You were fucked. Physically and mentally so. The words you’d locked away in a carbon coated safe threatened to seep through the cracks as you tangled your fingers into his messy, onyx locks. He cradled your face in his hands, his new favorite thing to do, as he traced your lips with his thumb and littered kisses along your lips and cheeks. A painful sob threatened to escape, and you were frustrated as tears spilled from your eyes.

“Law I…”

“I know. Me too.”

Your happiness was bittersweet as you drew shapes along his back before he finally settled down beside you and covered you both with the covers. Turning to face him you slipped a leg between his and wrapped an arm over his waist, enjoying his heat seeping into your body.

With a flick of his wrist he muttered a “shambles” and your privacy dome disappeared, golden lights dimming as you both succumbed to a delicious, dreamy slumber.

#myfic #Trafalgar Law x reader #Law x reader #Trafalgar Law #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #Roronoa Zoro #I don’t know what else to tag this as lmfao #attention series

[berberriescorner]

"Through It All"

Characters: Rio x Black!Reader.

Summary: There aren’t many things that put Rio on edge. Most people see a calm, cool, and collected individual. Keeping a level head is his specialty. What happens when the person he loves most needs him to be strong for both of them? Get a glimpse of what it’s like seeing him hold someone down through thick and thin, in sickness and health. If you know, you know.

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS AND AUTHOR’S NOTE**

Warnings: Angst…like seriously. You’ll understand once you read the author’s note. This fic contains sweet, soft, fluffy Rio. The fic includes some of my crazy humor with a smidge of the character’s inner thoughts. If reading about gynecological procedures makes you uncomfortable, this may not be a fic for you. It doesn’t go into great detail, but it is mentioned and sheds a bit of light. If mentions of the ins and outs of fertility is a soft spot, please read with caution. It isn’t my intention to bring anyone down, but this story is based on parts of my own experiences. Again, the note will explain more.

Author/Personal Note: Okay. Where to start? So, as some of you may know throughout the past two years I’ve been getting cycles of iron infusions. This year, after making several complaints and an ER visit or two. I had an ultrasound performed, which led to me getting surgery months later (the procedure I had done recently). I’ve been spending my days at home recovering, and it’s given me time to reflect. Damn, it’s been a rough couple of years, but I’m so thankful through it all. It’s difficult having a plethora of health issues. This situation put so much added stress on top of it all. As a woman, hearing you have a fibroid. Learning it’s best to get it removed to protect your fertility is scary as hell. You get it done, get sent home, and though you have loved ones taking amazing care of you. It’s still a difficult, challenging process. At times, it’s lonely. No one but you can fully wrap your head around the emotions and feelings the body is going through. It’s pretty wild.

Anywho, sorry y’all. Let me stop rambling and get to the point. We all know how overactive my imagination is. Being stuck in bed, my mind has been wandering. I thought to myself why not take this experience and channel it into a fic. I’m hoping that this will also be a comforting story to anyone who’s been through the same experience. Here is a look at how I envision Rio taking in the experience with his lady. I plan to write at least two more parts for this. Happy reading my lovelies! I wrote this on a whim, in celebration of my birthday, so ignore the grammatical errors my loves. I may come back and do some more editing. Depends on how I’m feeling.

Word Count: 1,800+. 

Inspired By💜:

Random fun fact: Toni Braxton and I have the same birthday😆. Happy Birthday, Queen💓.

Everything was still as a deafening silence fell across the room. It was as if each occupant was afraid to utter a single word. Your mother pretended to distract herself with a Kindle book as your father paced the floor quietly. They’d share a glance each time they checked their watch, smiling at one another in comfort and reassurance. 

Then, together, they directed their attention toward the chair in the far right corner. It was tucked in a tight corner next to a window, giving little relief and comfort to your husband, Rio. He, too was anxious, but no one would ever know it. He was always able to still his facial features. Never one to give his emotions away. The only person who could read him wasn’t in the room. You were on the other side of the building and the reason for your families’ nervousness. No longer able to stand the constant glances and silence, Rio stood from his seat. He released a breath, rubbing his palms against his jeans. Turning to your parents, he stated, “I’m going to grab a quick cup of coffee from the cafeteria. Would you two like something?”

Your mother, a gentle, nurturing soul, responded for both of them.

“No, baby. We’re fine. Don’t worry. I’ll come find you if we receive news.”

Rio ducked away in a vacant spot in the cafeteria, hands folded over top of the steam of the coffee. He searched for peace and solace until a jolting vibration exploded in his jacket pocket. Fumbling for the phone, he answered without looking.

“What they say ma-. Oh, my bad. Wassup? Everything good?” Rio listened patiently before snapping. “You know this is something you could’ve handled yourself, right? I don’t have time for the three stooges bullshit today.”

He instantly felt a slight pang of guilt. Rio realized that the stress and worry of his current situation were influencing his mood. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed. Inhaling, he continued, “My bad bro. She’s been in for three hours, and it’s got me tweaking. Nobody’s giving us any damn answers. It’s a non-invasive procedure, but it’s still considered major surgery. I just need to hear she’s good.”

“It’s all good, boss. I know you’re worried about wifey. She’s a strong woman. Boss lady’s going to be alright. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. Call me as soon as you know something,” Mick responded.

“You're right. Thank you for holdin’ shit down.”

He laid his phone on the table, burying his face in his hands. The last few moments he spent with you were on repeat in his mind. Rio returned to the present, hearing the chair opposite him slide backward. His eyes connected with your father’s, and he readied himself for wherever the conversation would go.

It was no secret that the two hadn’t always seen eye to eye. The two men sat for several minutes before your father started speaking.

“I’ll be honest with you, man. You’re not at all what I envisioned for my daughter.”

“You seriously want to have this conversation right now?”

“Now wait, son. Let me finish.”

Hold up. It’s son now? Where is this going? It didn’t even sound disrespectful. It doesn’t sound like he’s trying to play me on some sucka shit. I’ll hear him out.

Rio nodded his head, giving your father the floor.

“I may not know all you do for a living, son, but I know you’ve managed to make a comfortable and safe life for my baby girl. When it comes down to it, that’s what I’ve always wanted for her. It took me some time to come to terms with it, but I know, without a doubt, that you’re doing everything in your power to make her feel protected and loved. Let me just say what I’m getting at,” he chuckled. “You’re good at hiding it, son, but I know you’re worried. Hell, so are we, but that’s alright.”

Rio’s head dropped, shoulders slumping. He took the opportunity to be vulnerable finally. Your father’s acceptance allowed him the space to do so. He felt a comforting grip land on his shoulder. Your father finished, “Baby girl is going to be alright, son. With all your love and support, she’ll be back on her feet soon. Now, you take a few more moments to yourself. Don’t be surprised when her momma wraps you up in a big hug when you head back. She’s worried about her favorite son-in-law.”

Rio chuckled, “I’m her only son-in-law, sir.”

“Even better. You ain’t gotta share. That sweet woman sure knows how to smother people in love.”

“You’re daughter is the same way. It’s one of the many things I love about her.”

“Which is why you understand my reasons for being so guarded. That’s my baby girl. Enough with that ‘sir’ shit too. Call me pops. My son may not like that, but I get a kick out of irritating him anyway. He’s overprotective of his sister.”

“Y’all gon’ try to take me out if I ever mess up, huh?”

“What I look like snitching on myself? Let’s not ever get to that bridge, son.”

The two men shared a laugh, but everything turned serious when they saw your mom power walking towards them. Rio's heart began thudding in his chest.

“Ma, what’s wrong? Did-.”

“Relax, sugar,” she cooed, rubbing a hand against both men’s arms. “The nurse said the doctor should be ready to talk to us in about fifteen minutes. Let’s head back to the waiting room.”

Fifteen minutes came and went. Your mother couldn’t help but crack a smile at both men. They both started fussing about how long the surgeon was taking. She felt sorry for the man once he approached them. The doctor, attempting to apologize, was cut off by an impatient Rio.

“You good, doc. We understand these things take time, but excuse us for being anxious. We were under the impression this would be about an hour-long procedure. How’s my wife?”

The surgeon explained himself. “That’s what we anticipated, but the process took longer. Your wife’s last ultrasound a few months back showed a fibroid the size of a plum. Sadly, it grew to the size of an orange, which would explain why things grew more difficult during her last few cycles. However, you’ll be happy to know that we managed to do it laparoscopically, and everything looks great. She’s being taken to recovery now, but we’ve decided to keep her overnight.”

All three of your family members asked, “Why is that,” in unison.

“We just want to keep an eye on her for the next twenty-four hours. Given gas was used to see things more clearly, we’d like to monitor her. We’ll need to see that she gets up and walks to get things flowing. I just want to be sure she gets it moving out of her system. Also, since she’s anemic, we just want to be extra careful. I promise everything went well, and she should be ready to go in the morning.”

Each family member felt at ease. The trio waited for an invitation to your recovery room. Though he wanted to be the first person you saw when you woke up, Rio encouraged your parents to go first. The two visitors' only rule irritated them all.

Your eyes fluttered open, and your parents laughed at the slurred responses given to your nurse. Your parents took turns kissing your forehead, expressing encouraging words. Your father, now at ease, left the room in search of Rio.

“You might want to hurry back there. She’s still a bit loopy. Baby girl has been asking the nurse, where my husband? You got my baby acting ratchet in this hospital,” he joked.

“Aye, she was like that when I met her,” he laughed, walking towards recovery.

Rio slid behind the curtain, laying eyes on the most precious sight. You were in bed, laid back, eyes closed, singing off-key as your mother held your hand, laughing. The nurse stepped beside him, giving a small giggle.

“She’s been looking for you. Ma’am, the man of the hour is here.”

Your eyes popped open as you halted the song. “My husbannnd! Hey baeee,” you winced, given the pain and having a hoarse voice.

“Mama, you back here wildin’ ain’t you? How’s our little patient doing, ma,” he directed toward your mom.

“Crazy as ever. This girl opened her eyes, looked at me, and called herself whispering. Loud as ever, she asked me if she still had a uterus. Her daddy would’ve turned red if he were capable.”

They both shared a laugh as you did your best to shrug shoulders. Wanting to give you two privacy, your mom went to sit in the waiting room. Rio turned to you, holding your hand. His lips brushed across your knuckles, and he shivered at how cold they were. Wrapping his hand around yours, he tried warming the digits.

“My momma ain’t answer my question though,” you mumbled, eyes closed.

Rio smiled, “What’s that now, mama?”

“My uterus. Sis still in there, right?”

“Yes, darlin’. What makes you think it’s not?”

“I signed them papers, man. In the event of a ‘mergency, they were going to take shawty,” you sassed, words still slurring.

Rio did his best to hold back a cackle. Clearing his throat, he replied, “Mama, you straight. Everything went according to plan. There was no emergency. The fibroid is out. It was bigger than expected. That’s why it feels like you were out for a while.”

“Aight bet. So when we making babies,” you asked, wincing again.

“First off, sit still, mama. Your body is pretty sore right now.”

“Baby, I’m drugged up! I don’t feel nothin’.”

“Second. You’ll be recovering for four to six weeks. You’re not going to be in any type of mood for all that. I believe the surgeon said no sex for two to three weeks. No babies for at least six months, darlin’. They just sliced your uterus open and stitched it back together, mama,” he explained, running his thumb across your lip.

He laughed at the pout etched on your face. Rio caressed the side of your face, kissing you gently. “On some real shit. I was worried out my mind over you, mama. I’m so glad you’re good. You’re my world. The clock kept ticking, and I was about to lose it.”

Your eyes connected with his, “I’m right here, papa. I’m good. We gonna be good. No matter what,” you whispered. Even through the drugs and drowsiness, you could feel his angst. Rio could read between the lines. He knew what you were trying to communicate. It had been on both your minds heavily. Your eyes connected with his. Rio saw the unshed tears you were holding back, and he swallowed hard, nodding his head in agreement. No matter where this path led, Rio knew, in his heart, that he loved you with everything in him.

Baby or not, we’ll still feel fulfilled and happy. My life’s purpose is to love and give you the world.

This piece was both personal and therapeutic for me to write. I truly hope you all enjoyed it. Please be sure to comment and reblog, it's appreciated. Now I'm about to go eat some birthday cake and read some amazing fan fiction😆.

Divider credit💜 : @firefly-graphics

tagging💜 : @4everbrookemarie @darqchilddaydreamz @astoldbychae @sunshine-flower

@nightlywords7 @starrynite7114 @amorestevens @fineanddandy

@rio-reid-whoreee @that-one-anxious-mango @novaniskye

@alertyoulikeitsamber @1andonlytashae @lovedlover @blkbutterfly816 @banana123pudding

#berberriescorner #through it all series #part one #rio x black!reader #rio x woc!reader #zaddy rio #daddy rio #rio good girls #good girls rio #rio x reader #rio x you #rio fanfic #rio fanfiction #spotify #manny montana #black fanfic writer #i love my mutuals😍 #it's my birthday #Libra SZN #Spotify

[thecomfortgoth]

Kiss From A Rose

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

18+ MDNI (istfg do not)

2k words (I got carried away lol)

CW: smut, masturbation with a toy (F receiving, M giving), praise kink, soft!dom Eddie, oral sex at the end (F receiving), lil bit fluffy and lovey, established relationship, reader and Eddie are in their mid/late 20's, pet names, no use of y/n, little bit of possessiveness ig

Please let me know if I missed anything above

A/N: Here's a small drabble that may or may not have come to me in the form of my overactive imagination at night, I will not be taking any further questions, thankyouuuuu. Feedback is very appreciated as this is my first ever smut drabble thingy I've ever written and I'm nervous lol. Banners and seperators made by me (it was my first go, I tried my best)

You're not sure how long you've been laying here. Not sure how long you've been trying to muffle your whines and gasps as your boyfriend Eddie gives you the kind of orgasms you'd only been able to dream about before you met him. After all, you definitely don't want your roommates to wake up again hearing you two going at it like a couple of horny teenagers. You'd only just moved in and one awkward breakfast had been enough for you to tell Eddie when they were home, you both had to keep it down.

To which he just smirked and said "Is that a challenge sweetheart?"

That's what lead to this. To him having you laying on your back in your bed that very same night, legs parted wide for him, the man in question laid on his side next to you, an arm slung around you grabbing at the soft skin of your breasts and teasing the peaks of your nipples with his fingertips, his other hand between your legs using your rose vibrator on your throbbing clit.

Your pussy had really been through it tonight, since you'd lost count of how many orgasms you'd had now. And Eddie knew that god damn toy made you crumble with ease, especially when he used it on you. He just seemed to do it right, seemed to inherently know exactly how to make it suck at your soaked clit in just the right way, at just the right angle. And he would build it up torturously slow, inching the pressure and speed up bit by fucking bit. He was a bastard for that, but holy fuck did you love it.

"Does that feel good, angel? Oh it does doesn't it? I can tell from that beautiful look on your face, you're gonna lose it soon aren't you baby?" He coo's mockingly sweet in your ear, a low dark chuckle coming from him, his voice just above a whisper as he kisses along your cheek and jaw, down to the juncture of your neck, groaning low and quiet, small growls every now and then when you clench this way or that way, twitch in his arms a little too much, almost like the hum of an engine. His solid cock lay between the underside of your thigh and his own stomach, his arm keeping you from moving it at all, his hips rolling against your plushness as he chased any friction he could while he brought you over the edge again and got his stamina back to fuck you again.

He couldn't give *you* a break though. No, you were going to keep falling apart for him until you either begged him to stop or he was done with you, whatever came first. And you knew you'd *never* beg for such a thing, you loved when he did this, you loved when he was like this, completely insatiable, almost primal and obsessed and needy to give you as many delicious endings as he could. That was Eddie's thing. He was definitely a giver. Seeing you get off was enough to make him jizz his pants. And it had several times in the past.

You fisted the sheet beneath you, turning your head slightly to look at him through half lidded misty eyes, seeing him look at you with both fondness and lust, his breath now fanning your face. Your chest was heaving, your tits moving rapidly with each breath you took, a thin layer of sweat formed over the expanse of your body as he gazed over you, a small grunt coming from him as he turned the damn toy he had attached to your bud up a notch, making you gasp loudly, your lips twitching as they opened wider.

"Yeah? That it, baby? Right there? Come on, let me have it, gimme another one, you're doing so fucking good for me angel, so so fucking good, always so good" he said, his voice raspy and hoarse, almost sounding as fucked out as you felt. His bangs were stuck to his forehead and you were both panting into each others mouths, hips rolling in opposite directions, rushing towards that cliffs edge you both so desperately needed right now at god knows what time in the night it was.

He was completely in awe with you, with how you looked so effortlessly breathtaking, even in the darkness of your bedroom, the only light provided from the moon outside peeking through your thin curtains. He watched how your whole body almost glittered with perspiration, making you look even more ethereal than he originally had thought. He was so fucking gone for you, it was ridiculous. He found himself falling more and more for you in the simplest of ways. And in the filthiest of ways.

"Eddie.." you sighed, almost sounding desperate, lips parted and wet, eyes half rolling back in your head as you reached forward and clung to his bicep, nails digging in a little and leaving little half moon marks in his skin.

You could feel that ball tightening low in your gut, the rush of blood going straight to your head and the pounding of your heart in your ears. "Baby, be good for me yeah? Be good and cum for me, just once more, just one more time, please sweetheart, need to see you cum again, so bad, show me how good I make you feel, angel" he almost whined, sounding as desperate as you felt and looked right now.

It was then that you suddenly gasped, your mouth hung open in a silent scream as your head lulled back, your eyes rolling right into your skull as your hips bucked up into the air, your toes curling into the mattress and your legs stiffening, feeling that hot white heat spill over you, your orgasm washing away every last thought you had in your mind and leaving only crippling pleasure in its wake.

Eddie coaxed and praised you through it, mumbling his own pussydrunk curses as he kissed your jaw sloppily and spilled out his own release onto your thigh and his torso at the exact same time, not even caring about the clean up job he'd absolutely have to do when you were done. There was already cum and sweat and spit all over both of you and the poor new grey cotton sheets your best friend had bought you as a moving present.

"There she is, that's my good girl, so fucking beautiful when you cum for me, so fucking beautiful all the time but god.. I can't get enough of that.. wish I could bottle that and have it with me all the time" he groaned, slowing his actions down as he rolled the toy around your clit a little more, making you whimper a little higher pitched and jerk in his arms from the oversensitivity of it all, pushing at his arm to signal him to stop. He shushed you, soothing you gently as he turned the toy off and pulled it away from you, tossing it to the end of the bed. He'd deal with cleaning that later too.

He rolled your now tired limp body onto your side, pulling you against his chest, feeling the sticky warmth between you both, but neither of you caring. He kissed you sweetly, slowly, lovingly, just wanting to feel you close as he held you tight, his arms feeling like the safest warmest security blanket you'd ever had. You lazily wrapped your arms around him, small aftershocks wracking through you as you whimpered quietly against his lips. It was a wonder after being together this long that he still made you feel like the giggly shy schoolgirl you used to be when you'd first met in high school. And truth be told, he had felt the same way that whole decade ago now. He still feels that way, he's sure he'd always feel that way.

You both kiss for what seems like forever, lips meeting in sync with each other, spit connecting you when you pause for a mere breath before immediately getting back to it, making out with each other like if you didn't you'd cease to exist or crumble to nothing in each others hold.

"You always make me feel like I'm floating, Eds. Never gonna get enough, never gonna get tired of it" you whispered against his lips when you stole a quick breath, his hands roaming your sides and back. You hear him groan ever so slightly.. and suddenly you're on your back again, he's hovering over you, kissing you hungrier and needier again.

You shouldn't have opened your damn mouth.

He begins kissing his way down your jaw again, your hands finding purchase in his damp curls at the back of his head, making his way to your throat where he nips at it a little, teeth sinking into already bruised flesh where he'd sucked half a dozen hickeys into your skin already earlier this evening, making you whimper pathetically.

"Eddie.. I... I can't.." you whine, and he shakes his head.

"You can doll, I know my pretty girl can, can't you baby? You wanna be good for me right?" he mumbles almost absent mindedly, now mouthing over your collarbones as his fingertips pinch at your sensitive nipples, making you arch your back and whine way back in your throat. You do want to be good for him. Because he's always so good for you. He is good for you, in every meaning of the phrase.

You know exactly where this is going already.. you thought it was over for tonight. And you thought wrong. You don't have the will to tell your beautiful boy no when he's like this. Nor do you really have the sense to.

Eddie kisses between the valley of your breasts, down your sweat slicked stomach, his tongue peeking out to flick over each of your nipples in passing, his hands engulfing your thighs once again and spreading you open, completely indecent to the world and completely at his mercy. You don't have the energy to push him away. Not that you want to anyway.

He finally settles between your legs, kissing the small mound just above your clit as you watch him through wet eyes, your lashes already coated with the formation of tears, your chest heaving and your breath laboured again.

Brown orbs connect with your own, animalistic and hungry as his gaze flicks to your cunt and then back to your eyes, a small curse coming from him as he mutters something under his breath about how pretty you look like this for him, which makes your breath catch in your throat. He finally settles down onto his belly, ringed fingers digging in and pushing your thighs as far as they could go, your legs shaking a little as he does so. One of Eddie's favourite things in the world was this. Having you obscenely open for him, your cunt inches from his watering mouth, completely naked and unravelled. Completely you. The you only he gets to see. And only would ever get to see for the rest of your fucking life, if he has anything to say about it.

He leans down after studying your glistening folds for a moment, sticking his tongue out and licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, groaning a little too loudly as his eyes flutter closed and you watch him. You can't even muster the strength to scold him, especially not through your own strangled moan as he does so, placing small gentle kisses against your poor aching clit as he finishes his lewd slurp of you, looking up at you with his eyes almost now black.

"One more for me princess, yeah? Just gotta taste you again then I'm done, one more, promise baby. Remember, gotta be quiet yeah? Don't want them to hear us do we?" He smirked into your cunt, knowing you were both way past that at this point.

But it was never just one more. You didn't mind one fucking bit that it was never one more. Nor did you really mind the noise now.

Awkward breakfasts were so fucking worth this.

Thank you for reading my late night random filth lol. Please let me know if you enjoyed this and if you'd want more in the future. I have so many ideas for drabbles, fics, series and more.

#eddie x you #eddie fluff #eddie smut #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #eddie fic #eddie x reader #soft!dom eddie #soft!dom #eddie in love #eddie munson headcanons #no use of y/n #eddie munson smut

[pinguwrites]

Black Heart | Chapter One: Evening Cigarettes

Pairing -> Thomas Shelby x fem!poc!reader

Summary -> The year is 1920, and you have no idea how you got here. One moment, you were in your bed, and the next, you were lying in a field of grass, thousands of miles away from home. All you know is that you're in a small town called Birmingham, and you need money. Fortunately, the local gangster is in the market for an accountant, and you're in the market for a job.

Warnings -> swearing, mentions of racism, suicide joke, reader kinda has a dark sense of humor, tommy being a bit of an ass, sorry for the short chapter

REWRITTEN 9/29/23 - CURRENTLY ON HOLD

Word count: 1.8k

Disclaimer: Peaky Blinders characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

Series Masterlist

There wasn’t much to be said about Birmingham. It was a small city, located somewhere in England, filled with dirty streets and coal-stained men and nothing of any interest at all. For the past few days, you had been walking around the place in an almost dream-like haze, searching for food scraps and pieces of suitable clothing, wondering why the fuck you were here and how.

It’s all those movies you’ve been watching, your mom’s voice rings in your head. Too much fantasy and not enough reality. 

A part of you wondered if you should have listened to her words, if this world you were now a part of was the result of an overactive imagination and a desperate desire to escape reality. Maybe this was some cruel trick the universe decided to play on you, maybe you had passed out and all of this was a sort of long-term coma. Perhaps it was a mass prank and everyone here was just actors — but you thought that to be highly unlikely, given, you know, common sense. 

The only other possibility you could come up with was time travel. Even if it was probable, there were so many questions: Why you? Why this time? 

No, you’d just stick to the most simple and likely answer: you were fucking insane. Right now, in the real world, you were being locked up in some mental facility, strapped to a bed, and being monitored by doctors and nurses. Your mom was in tears, wondering where she had gone wrong with raising her daughter, and you were oblivious, wandering around in the year 1920, with no way to get back.

You kicked a pebble, watching it roll across the dirt ground. While that was the going theory, you still didn’t know what to do. Your instinct to survive was just as strong as any other day, and you were still plagued with hunger, pain, and fear.

So far, you had no proper shelter, no stable source of food and water (though the nearby well and some restaurant scraps were doing just fine for now), and you had nothing acceptable to wear except a dirty gray dress you found in some dumpster-like area. You had actually cleaned the damn thing yesterday, but it still had this nasty stench like foul body odor, and a couple of ripped holes. It was at least better than the clothes you were wearing beforehand — a white, loose, crop top and some fuzzy shorts, which had garnered nothing but stares of disgust and pity when you walked around in them. I’m naked to them, you realized, and that was when you made the endeavor to search for new clothing; as well as the fact that your modern outfit was doing nothing to protect you from the bitter chill. 

Not that this dress was doing any better. You predicted that you would die soon from the weather. Probably in your sleep. While you hadn’t found any shelter, you did find a little corner by the side of an apartment building. That’s where your body would be found, all frozen to death like meat in a fridge. But what else were you supposed to do? It was the best place you had.

You continued walking down the road, kicking that same pebble again. Your toes and fingers were numb and you were sure that you were going to get a cold, though that was the least of your worries.

The sky was a dark gray and it seemed like it was going to rain soon. You looked up from the ground and glanced over the area, a habit you picked up ever since you saw someone getting mugged here. The entire city of Birmingham felt like a small town, with its little businesses and shops along the side of the unpaved road. Occasionally a few people would walk past you. They would either ignore you and mind their own business, or stare at you like you were some exotic specimen. Fucking racist pricks.

You reached into your bag — thank god you had a bag on you when you were transported here — and pulled out your phone. It was dead, but you kept checking it out of habit. Not like you could call anyone even if it was charged, but it would have been nice to spend your last moments watching a good movie or scrolling through old pictures to reminisce about the past. 

Everything else in the bag was just hand sanitizer, a mask from COVID days (oh, God, what if I’m carrying COVID and spread it?), lip balm, and a small pocket knife. All things you were glad to have, but not particularly useful. It would have been nice to have a book on survival in the wilderness, or a lighter. 

You sighed, your breath coming out in a white smoke in the bitter air. You wanted to crawl into a ball and collapse. You wanted your mom to hold you, or your friends to lighten the mood with silly jokes. Why did this have to happen? Why me?

When you arrived at the apartment you were ready to curl up and sleep, but you noticed a flickering sound, and turned around to see a man, leaning against the wall of the opposite building. 

He was handsome, with a gray cap and a dusty black coat on. He seemed to be stopping only for a moment, lighting the cigarette between his fingers before moving on, but he noticed your stare and gave you a cold look.

“You need something?” he asked, in that same, strong British accent you heard everyone around here speak in.

“No.” You shook your head, feeling a little bad for blatantly staring. “My bad.”

The man took a puff of his cigarette. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so, I’ve never seen you before.”

His facial expression didn’t change. It was in that same cold stare. “Do you know who I am?”

“Well, I’ve never seen you before,” you repeated yourself, getting a little irritated. Your day was already going bad — scratch that, your whole week had been a fucking roller coaster, and now you had to deal with an arrogant prick who thought he was shit. “Are you some kind of celebrity?”

“You’re American,” he stated, ignoring your question. “Tell me, Miss . . .?”

“[Y/N],” you said.

“Miss [Y/N]. Tell me what a girl like you is doing in Birmingham?”

“I’m not quite sure,” you responded honestly. “What are you doing here?” you asked, not enjoying his attitude. “What’s your name?”

“You’re a cheeky lass, sweetheart.” He grinned a little, amused, like this was all funny to him. “My name is Thomas Shelby. And this is my town.” He paused, his grin dropping. A horrible feeling sunk in your gut. “I ought to know who lives in my town, eh?”

He took a puff of his cigarette. “Come here, sweetheart.” 

You hesitated but walked forward a little, ready to run at a moment’s notice. He had that dumb hairstyle every man here was rocking, but it fit him. It made him look nice.

You didn’t say anything. Neither did he. But then the man called Thomas Shelby offered you a cigarette and asked, “Are you a whore?”

You stood there, stunned, not accepting his offer. “No.”

He looked you up and down again. “How old are you? Twenty-three? Twenty-four?”

“Eighteen.”

He didn’t say anything to that or indicate that he was surprised.

“You have family ‘round here?”

You shook your head, thoughts running wild.

He must be a gangster. Like Al Capone, only British, you thought, feeling nervous. What was he going to do to you? He wouldn’t harm you, would he?

Of course he’s going to harm you. That’s what men like him do.

“Ran away, eh? Nice story.”

“I never said I ran away,” you said, thinking you ought to stop this conversation right now and bolt in the opposite direction out of this town.

“Then what happened?” He walked closer to you. His face was neutral, but you could tell he was suspicious, otherwise he wouldn’t be asking all these questions. “I’m not going to ask again.”

“Good. Now, will you leave me alone?” Your voice dropped to a more quiet tone. “Please?”

Mr. Shelby looked like he was thinking. “This isn’t a safe place for young girls like you,” he finally said. “You shouldn’t be out here,” he gestured to the streets, “alone, with no one to protect you.”

“I’m doing just fine” you retorted, but made an effort to sound as polite as you could. 

“Fine?” He took a look at your clothing. “Yes, very suitable. I’m sure you enjoy being homeless.”

“I’m not homeless,” you defended, even though you were, indeed, homeless. 

Being reminded of your hopeless situation made tears pricked at your eyes, and you felt silly for wanting to cry, especially in front of him, but it was all just so hard. You didn’t feel right getting upset, other people had and were facing worse, but all you could think about was how much you wanted to eat a hot home-cooked meal and a nice bed to sleep in.

“Are you going to cry?” he asked.

“Do you like it when people cry?”

“Not particularly.”

“Then you should leave me alone, because I probably will.”

You averted your eyes, feeling ashamed for admitting that to a random stranger, a stranger who was probably judging you right now, a stranger who was probably a fucking criminal.

Mr. Shelby walked even closer, to the point where you were now just a feet apart. You could see the freckles scattered across his face.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out some paper money, handing it over to you. “You see that building?” He pointed to the one beside you, the one you’d been sleeping behind. “This should be enough to get you a few day’s stay.”

You were stunned, hesitantly taking the pounds and blinking the tears away. “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “Just doing a decent man’s work, sweetheart.” He looked into your eyes. “Last I remember, the landlady of this building is hiring a maid. Ask her about it, tell her that Thomas Shelby referred you here.”

You agreed, not wanting to say anything that would make him change his mind, but you were still wondering why he changed his mind. Did he like it when girls cried? Did it make him feel like a hero? Was he planning to use you later for something? You didn’t know, and no matter how many times you tried to guess, it was useless, because you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. 

“Thank you, sir,” you breathed out, feeling a little bad for your snippiness. 

He nodded his head at you, lingering for a moment before walking in the opposite direction. You watched him until he was out of sight, a warm feeling in your tummy.

You walked into the apartment, finally inside a building for the first time in a while. You told the landlady, an old Asian woman, that Mr. Shelby had referred you to this place and the job. She took the money and eagerly offered you a room to stay, though you noticed a fearful hint in her eyes.

She got you a warm bath, saying that you must tell Mr. Shelby that she was very happy to take you in — subtlety, of course, and lead you to your new room.

You laid down on the bed, taking in the comfort of the sheets. Very quickly, you fell asleep, drifting off into a slumber after a long day.

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #black heart #pinguwrites

[kisskiss-slashslash]

Hey there, I was wondering if you could do mind reader Thomas Hewitt where he sneaks into your mind couple times a day where it becomes smutty and he has nothing to do but has his way with you.. thank you <3

Oh hell yeah. You didn't specify, so I just wrote it with an afab reader. Hope that's okay!

Mindreader Thomas has his way with his s/o

There were very very few people who knew about Thomas‘ ability to read minds. In fact, only Luda Mae and you actually knew about it. He tried to tell Charlie and Monty when he was younger but both dismissed it as a child‘s overactive imagination. Either way, he always found it extremely useful. It let him know who he could trust, and who was actually genuine in their kindness towards him and who just smiled and acted nice around him to save their own asses.

His mind-reading ability was what caused you to not only survive an encounter with him, but to eventually become a part of the Hewitt family. Your first thought upon meeting him had been „Oh… he has pretty eyes...“, and when you first saw his face under the mask, you gently asked him if it hurt, your thoughts reflecting nothing but genuine concern.

Even now, after you had been together for quite some time, he occasionally poked around in your thoughts, with your consent of course, just to see what you were up to, and if you were getting along with his family alright. And he was absolutely delighted every time he found that you were thinking of him.

That day, he was done with his chores and was idly rearranging his collection of body parts, when he decided it was time to see what you were thinking again. The first few thoughts were usual everyday things like „Ugh, I can‘t wait to be done with the dishes. My fingers are looking like prunes already.“ But then your thoughts wandered to him again. „I wonder if Thomas is done with his work already. If he is, maybe I can talk him into coming upstairs with me...“

Thomas paused, knowing deep down where this train of thought would be going. Thoughts weren‘t always like spoken sentences, sometimes they were also images. And now the verbal thoughts faded into the sight of him buried balls deep inside of you, face flushed with arousal and exertion, his hands grabbing your thighs so roughly it would leave bruises. „God damn it, why now“, you thought. „I can‘t let any of them notice how horny I am, I would never live it down...“ And while you obviously tried really hard to fight off your fantasies, they just kept coming.

Thomas put the severed fingers he had been sorting by size aside and stood up. There was no way he would leave you alone in that state, especially since you had so kindly, if somewhat involuntarily, shared those thoughts with him. He already felt his cock strain against his pants just from seeing your imagination, and now he needed sex just as badly as you did.

You were just putting away the last few dishes when Thomas came up to you, threw you over his shoulder and stomped upstairs.

„Make sure you‘re done in time for dinner!“, Luda Mae called after you.

You grinned at him once he dropped you onto the bed. „Poked around in my head again, did you?“

He grabbed the shirt you were wearing and roughly pulled it over your head, and made similarly quick work of your pants and underwear. Then he opened up his pants, too aroused and impatient to bother completely undressing himself.

He grabbed your thighs, just like you imagined, and spread them, finding you already slick and ready.

The tip pushed against your entrance, your body struggling to accommodate his impressive girth, despite you being already wet from daydreaming and used to his size.

He placed his hand on your lower stomach and started circling your clit with his thumb. You pressed your hands onto your mouth to stifle the moans spilling from your lips. He worked his way forward bit by bit until finally, his hips met yours. You pushed yourself up to kiss him, but he pushed you down again and instead leaned over you, pressing his lips onto yours while he eased himself out of you and thrust back in. You gasped into the kiss and opened up his shirt so you could slip your arms under it and around him, fingers pressing into his back and nails leaving a few nice scratches on his skin.

You wanted to say his name, beg him to take you harder, but he already knew. Another thing his mindreading was good for. And with your moaning and gasping in tandem with his already ferocious thrusts, you couldn‘t do anything but babble incoherently anyway.

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave; the world around you exploded into stars. Thomas came soon after you, the feeling of his thick cum pumping into your body was almost enough to send you over the edge a second time.

It felt like an eternity until Thomas pulled out and a torrent of thick, white semen pours out of you. You would need to change the sheets later.

He pulled you to his chest, peppering your face with kisses. You responded to the tender gestures in kind; covering his scarred face with kisses as light as butterflies.

His kisses soon became more heated however, a surefire sign that round two was about to start.

You ended up not being done in time for dinner.

#slasher x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt smut

[salmonight]

DannyMay 2023, Day 15: Full Hazmat AU

Tittle: The Cleaner: First File

Summary: One day green glowing monsters started appearing and attacking cities all over the globe, and with them, arrived 'The Cleaner'. The Justice League has not uncovered any real information about them to this day. Meanwhile, Danny in a full hazmat suit: 'People can't even let me take a friggin nap!!'

One day,  green glowing monsters and people started to appear all along the globe. No one knew where they came from, only that they enjoyed wreaking havoc wherever they showed up. 

With the entities came 'The Cleaner' as they were titled. They always appeared no more than 10 minutes after a villain - from the ‘Green Dimension’, as they named it - showed up, and contained them in ten seconds flat,  immensely helping in keeping the damage to the minimum. 

The only saving grace was that these aliens never got anyone killed. Everyone in the Justice League found this observation extremely bizarre. But even with no casualties,  the repair costs were enormous. 

No matter how much the JL looked, there were never sightings of the figure other than during the fights, when they seemed to appear out of thin air. Internet searches came up blank as well, only filled with excited rants and candid photos taken by civilians. With these, they concluded that “The Cleaner” was either a) a brand new hero previously unknown, or b) from the same dimension the glowing entities came from. The whole League was miffed, with the Bats even more so, collectively losing their shit over having no contingency plans against the unknown figure.

Fully covered in a red and black hazmat suit nobody had a clue about their identity,  even their gender was shrouded in mystery. Somehow their outfit, even without being overly baggy managed to hide any distinguishing bodily characteristics that otherwise would have been visible. 

Until…. one day,  one of the speedsters overheard the ‘Cleaner’s’ rant. 

It went as any of their usual fights with the green monsters did. Not even a few minutes after the beast started to destroy the buildings, their mysterious hero materialized into existence in front of it. Instead of immediately throwing a punch like they expected, ‘The Cleaner’ instead stared at them with the most deadpan expression they could convey with a helmet on. For some reason, the speedster got a huge 'I’m-so-done-with-this-shit' vibe. Or that was just his overactive imagination. It was hard to tell with the headgear on. He must have gotten it right though, because then they tiredly put a palm to their face with one hand, and, without looking, flicked open the lid of a tube and sucked the entity into it with the other.

Surprisingly, The Cleaner didn’t immediately disappear once the monster was gone, so he took a few steps closer as they hung the green, metal tube ( which he could now tell was actually a soup thermos? What? ) back on his belt and pulled out an honest-to-god cellphone.

He didn't even have to strain his ears to listen in on the ensuing phone call since they were talking pretty loudly. And boy, did they sure sound pissed. 

“I swear to the Ancients, Tuck,” the ‘Cleaner’ complained, motioning with their hands aggressively to emphasize their point “If I have to come to fetch another one of these god damned brats I'm gonna treat them the same way they act and build them a time out corner in either the warden’s prison or the palace. I'm pretty sure both Walker and Frightknight would love to teach them a lesson about tact!"

There was a pause as he listened to whoever they were talking to on the other end of the line. “No, I don't care that they’re centuries older than me. If they act like spoiled children they get treated as such!” 

They let out an annoyed harrumph “I was taking a nap, Tuck. A NAP!!! You know I don't take naps! Not to mention I’m retired! What the hell am I? Their nanny? I don’t even get paid to clean up the messes they make! Can't they just keep their ecto ass sitting still in the realm for at least a few centuries to let me take my well deserved break!? But nooooo, these asshats have to make even more paperwork for me to do!" 

“When I told them not to break into Amity anymore I did not mean for them to go to another dimension and terrorize a whole-ass-planet!!!” The ‘Cleaner’ threw up their spare hand in exasperation.

 Their grumbling still could be heard as, with a wave of their hands, a portal opened, made out of a green swirling mass. Ignoring everyone else’s presence they stepped into the portal as it was the most common thing in the world. 

The speedster could only watch and gape at the now empty air. They certainly did not know they could do that. 

Now that he remembers though, they did sound like a male didn't they? He couldn’t estimate their age from the voice as it was very muffled coming through the headgear, but it was definitely not feminine.

And that's how the Justice League got their first ever info about the mysterious ‘Cleaner’.

Finally,  the first real data was entered into the vigilante’s (?) file: 

Name: UNKNOWN 

Alias: “The Cleaner” 

Age: UNKNOWN 

Gender: Male 

Origin: UNKNOWN 

Race: UNKNOWN 

Appearance: UNKNOWN

Power(s): Flight (or hovering,  unconfirmed which), Super strength(?), Teleportation(?), Portal creation (confirmed)

Weakness(es): UNKNOWN 

Costume: A full  black and red hazmat suit. The headgear has a black, unreflective screen that has green orbs (eyes?) shining behind it. Matte black gloves, combat boots and belt. There are compartments added to the belt. Content: UNKNOWN 

Weapon(s): a metal thermos(?) with green accents

Personality: UNKNOWN 

Affiliates: Tuck (?) (no file available)

Takedown plan(s): Impossible to make without further data 

Note:  The entity always deals with the threats quickly and effectively. Their moves speak of prior experience. 

 Ao3

The one that helped betaing this work once again is the lovely Amateum!

My hands were itching to draw something so in a 'why the fuck not' mode i drew Danny's file.

Except as sequel of this with arts and all fellas cuz am already preparing it!

The sketch:

#dannymay2023 #dannymay #dannymay day 15 #batpham #batpham fanfic #case file #danny phantom #danny fenton #phandom event #danny is retired #but still have to play nanny for the ghosts #cuz the 'do not attack amity' is taken as 'go and attack a whole ass planet in another dimension' #danny phantom fanart #full hazmat au #danny fenton fanart #the cleaner #The cleaner au #The cleaner first file #dc x dp fanfiction #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp #dc x dp fic

[obsidiancreates]

Here's a fun Shawn Is Actually Psychic AU: I'm not the first person to suggest that the flashbacks we see in the show are something Shawn sees too, and I'm not the first to suggest they're visions. But here's the funny part: he just assumes everyone's memory works that way.

He casually brings it up one day and Gus is like "Sorry what? That's not how that works at all."

"Huh. Must be the eidetic memory thing."

But then he asks his mom and Gus looks it up and, nope.

"Maybe my overactive imagination?"

So they try out asking a witness, after a case closing, about the accuracy of one of his flashbacks that included speaking and. Huh. He got every word right, down to the inflection. That's weird.

"Oh my god Shawn. You might actually be psychic."

"There's no way."

"Only you could be actually psychic and not realize it your whole life."

"I'm not!"

"What am I thinking?"

"Gus, we already tested this before, and you know you know my thoughts just as well as I know yours."

"Damn. ... Okay, remember something from when we were kids, but tell me what I did when you left."

"Will you ever remember enough to confirm it?"

"Just try it!"

And bam, he can say what happened when he left the room, only a bit of it but it's accurate. Shawn is weirded out, Gus feels a huge weight has been lifted now that they're not really lying anymore about it. Shawn decides to practice Seeing more despite it freaking him out specifically to further irritate Lassie and Henry by making absurd and unknowable statements about them.

#psych #psych usa #psych 2006 #shawn spencer #burton guster

[scoops-aboy86]

In which Eddie panics a bit, Wayne is a voice of reason, and Steve is really going through it but finds some relief in Eddie bringing him lunch.

Part 1, part 1.5, part 2, part 3, part 4 of the love spell no go au

Eddie does not, in fact, see Robin or Steve the next day. He holes up in his room for three days until Wayne drags him out by his ear, sits him down, and pries an explanation out of him because “do you know how many times that Harrington boy has called, knocked, and slid notes under the door trying to track you down? I’m surprised he hasn’t climbed in your damn window by now.”

He breaks and tells Wayne about the love spell and getting to know Steve. He walks his uncle through the entire strangled route of his logic and the thoughts he’s been stuck in his head with ever since the other day. 

And, okay, the whole prom scenario had been a completely theoretical product of his overactive and dramatic imagination, but something like that might have happened. Except if Eddie, instead of fucking up, had somehow cast it really, really strong… 

“That’s why he keeps calling, because of the spell,” Eddie concludes. “It makes sense, doesn’t it?” He desperately wants to hear that no, actually, he’s lost his marbles, no one can brute force a spell into being smart and biding it’s time like that. 

But Wayne sighs, somehow conveying both endless patience and weary amusement, and says, “Eddie, what have I always told you?”

“Uh… never tell anyone that magic is real?”

Wayne snorts. “That, sure, and that magic ain’t ever something outta nothing. Your daddy always thought he could make gold from thin air, never even tried spinning it outta straw, and look where it landed him.” Jail. Eddie winces. “The reason no one bothers with love spells much is they gotta have some potential to grab onto, so they fail more’n you’d think. Spell or not, Ed, there was always something there.”

By the end of the conversation, Wayne has more or less managed to hammer in the idea that maybe all the spell had done was keep them apart until they fit better. Eddie retreats to his room again, this time to brainstorm how to make up for the abrupt three day radio silence. 

Steve has had… a rough few days. If it hadn’t been for Wayne Munson assuring him that no, his nephew hadn’t disappeared like Will Byers or the Holland girl, just “got a bug up his ass about something and is still holed up in his room working on it,” he would have completely spiraled. As it was, he’d had trouble sleeping even before smoking through the last of his stash, on edge all the time, swimming laps at night because that feels better than doing nothing. 

So when he looks up at the jingle of the bell over the door and sees Eddie slink into Family Video, he’s torn between relief and upset. If Eddie is fine, and very obviously not eaten by monsters or kidnapped to an alternate dimension, then where the hell has he been? Why hadn’t he returned any of the messages Steve had left him? Is the return to jock tendencies that off-putting?

His eyes catch on the bag and cardboard carrier Eddie is carrying, laden with three paper cups from the nearest diner. The warm greasy smell hits him, and it’s been a long few days of wanting to stress eat but not letting himself. Steve’s mouth fills with saliva—just because he hasn’t had his lunch break yet.

“Where the hell have you been?” he asks flatly, since there’s no one else in the store right now. 

Eddie ducks his head. “Ye-eah, I deserve that.” He holds up the bag and drinks, tentatively meeting Steve’s gaze from under his bangs. “Brought you a peace offering?”

Steve breaths out sharply and runs a hand through his hair. He’d probably…Yeah, he’d probably been overthinking everything. Wound too tight, like Robin said. Not everything is a sign that the world is ending; Eddie had probably just been busy and knows that Steve is kind of needy, and brought him lunch as an apology. 

God, it smells like his usual order from before Starcourt. And Eddie is here now, perfectly fine except for the shadows under his eyes. What does Eddie have to be so worried about?

Get it together, Harrington. 

“Okay,” Steve says, not bothering to wonder if he can make whatever Eddie’s brought him fit into his diet—cheat days are a thing for a reason, right? “I’ll let Keith know I’m taking my break.”

Tilting his head to one side, Eddie is now close enough to set his offerings on the checkout counter. “No Robin today?”

“I wish. It’s her dad’s birthday, so she got roped into family stuff.”

“Hm.” He flicks at one of the straws poked through the top of the lid. “Looks like I brought one too many milkshakes then. Which is the more egregious sin, letting it go to waste or sharing it with Keith?”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “Second one. I’ll go punch out, meet me around back?”

A few minutes later they’re sitting across from each other at the table behind the little strip mall that houses Family Video and the arcade. It’s technically for anyone who works there, not just the video store, but it’s hot as balls out so there’s no competition for the spot. The first mouthful of milkshake is a welcome explosion of cold and rich chocolatey goodness in Steve’s mouth, and he hums approvingly. Holy shit, he’d forgotten how much he liked ice cream. 

“How’m I doing on the apology?” Eddie asks, starting to pull foil-wrapped burgers out of the greasy bag. 

“Pretty good, if one of those has cheese or bacon on it.” Steve accepts the one held out for him and unwrapping it to find both, and a second patty. He takes a big bite and hums in satisfaction, chewing for a moment and pleasantly aware that Eddie is watching him. As soon as his mouth is empty enough to speak, he says, “... Alright, you’re forgiven. Just answer your damn phone next time, man, okay? Let me know you’re still alive?”

“Sorry,” Eddie says, looking guilty. “Yeah, sorry, I will.” He nudges a large fries across the table, followed by several packets of ketchup. Eddie hates ketchup on fries, because he’s some sort of heathen, but doesn’t so much as comment when Steve squirts all of the packets down one side of the container for himself. “Didn’t mean to make you worry about me, Stevie, I just… got in my head about something.” 

Steve swallows a mixed bite of fries and burger, christ he’s hungry today. Must be the relief of knowing that Eddie is okay. “Anything I can help with?” he offers, because now that his ruffled feathers are soothed, he doesn’t like how tired his friend looks or the hint of melancholy that had flashed across his face at Steve’s requests. Eddie, who had looked at his bruises from Starcourt and visibly didn’t buy the government-concocted explanation for them but agreed not to ask, and thinks the source of his recent tension is from a few days of trauma rather than going on two years.

But also—Stevie? That’s new. Steve takes another big bite of his burger to hide how much the nickname makes him want to beam, that would be so weird given the current topic of conversation. 

“Nah,” Eddie says. He mimes knocking his fist against one temple, other hand tapping the underneath of the table to make a wooden sound. “Got it worked out now. I’m good.”

“Well, good.” Despite himself, Steve grins around his next bite of burger. He swallows, snags Eddie’s milkshake (strawberry) and then Robin’s (vanilla), following with a sip from his own—a poor man’s Neapolitan. “Want to come over tonight and finish that movie?”

A surprised look crosses Eddie’s face at the offer, followed by something else that Steve can’t read, and then a small grin of his own. “Sure, if you don’t mind starting it over. I’ve kinda forgotten the beginning.”

Which is fine, because Robin had insisted on finishing it (“You know I don’t do well with cliffhangers, Steve. Do you want me to not be able to fall asleep tonight trying to guess what happens next? Do you?”) and Steve isn’t sure he remembers where they paused it last time anyway. He’s pleased as he finishes his burger, licking the grease from his fingers and grabbing a bunch of fries positively dripping with ketchup, hurriedly getting them in his mouth before any can drop on his work clothes. Feels even better when Eddie chuckles and reaches across the table to wipe a smear of the condiment that had dripped down the side of his chin, almost making it to his work vest. The contact is nice, makes his heart beat faster. 

It doesn’t have to mean anything, but he wants it to.

Tag list (comment to be added): @hotluncheddie @8em-em-em8

Part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11

#love spell no go au #wg steddie #scoops words #steve harrington #eddie munson #good uncle wayne #feeder eddie munson #i don't even think he realizes what he's doing he just wants steve to have a nice lunch #the extra milkshake really was a coincidence but of course steve finishes it #and most of eddie's too lbr #goes back to work with a little more pep in his step that has nothing to do with the eating purely to fuel his body he's been doing lately #does he learn anything from this? no he does not #but he's got a lot on his mind

[the-song-of-avernus]

How mods + the vanilla game + my own RP made me emotional in BG3

When I started my 3rd run of BG, I installed a mod that allowed me to play as a Cambion (think Raphael & Mizora). A lot of the game dialogue defaults to tiefling but it's great for RP and comes with some unique boosts/powers (and potentially a game-changing nerf). Also you can give your character wings.

...which I promptly did. However, in an inverse of Wyll's story (and foreshadowing who she ultimately romanced) I had her wings removed (and removed some of her most powerful powers) near the end of act 1. A punishment for interfering with Wyll and with Karlach and stymying Raphael and helping the tieflings (and myconids) with zero expectation of rewards. "Since you seem to like the tieflings *so much*." kind of deal.

Anyone who's taken a look at the back of a tiefling body in game knows there are little spurs where wings could have potentially been with a stronger infernal bloodline.

Anyway for roleplay purposes I've kept a running thread of having her wings clipped (and becoming decidedly more mortal) and the psychology of that, phantom limb, and even getting Gale to teach her a basic level of wizardry so she could memorize a fly scroll and do it again with magic.

...the next act and a half kept going. And then I rescued Minsc, with a party of Wyll, Jaheira, and Karlach.

Where I promptly found the relics in the area where Minsc retrieves Boo that serve as memorials to the companions from past games. Including eerily thematically appropriate pieces for where Wyll, Jaheira, and Karlach all were in my game...and the last, a pair of wings.

Representing Aerie, a character in the earlier games who in her backstory had lost her wings. And in comes Mom Jaheira, pointing out "She didn't need them, in the end." all supportively.

Y'all I had to stop my game. My stupid mods and stupid roleplay/headcanons led to this impressively powerful and emotional moment in the game that only I've ever and will ever experience.

And just, damn. This game is so crazy powerfully good and the storytelling is so rich

Anyway this is why I love Baldur's Gate 3 so much. And why Jaheira is always SO worth it to have around in act 3. And why this game is such a masterpiece. A random in game item and some banter text for flavor, mixed with a mod, a preceding game from twenty years ago I still haven't played (BG1/BG2 are next), and one adult woman with an overactive imagination equalled a moment that's moved me more than literal cinema.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #jaheira #jaheira bg3 #aerie #aerie baldur's gate #tav #cambion tav #tiefling tav #minsc #bg3 minsc #wyll #wyll ravengard #karlach #mizora #raphael bg3 #larian #larian studios

[yoongsisbae]

V is for Villain 2/3

What does it mean to be a villain? What does it really mean to be a vigilante? A vanquisher of evil or a victor for the good? Stories praise the fall of devils, cheer at the marvels of the virtuous, and forget the victorious tell a version conveniently veiling their own atrocities. Evilness was once the brightest star in heaven. And goodness, well, morality can so often be contentious. This time, there is the hero with the strength of a hundred men, there is the villain that can vanish his vulnerabilities in a very instant, and then there’s you.

PART 1 HERE. Superhero/Super Villain AU. Taehyung x y/n x Namjoon love triangle (or rhombus if you wanna count Yoongi :P) Continuation to Your Friendly Neighborhood Superhero, RM.

Warnings: love-hate relationship, soft yandere tae, smut, dubcon, exhibitionism, oral, shower sex, rough sex, police brutality, attempted SA, violence, unhinged y/n

Word Count: 17.8k

---

You look down at the ground quickly approaching. Namjoon isn’t going to reach you. You smile, just knowing he tried was enough.

Namjoon screams your name. He will always be your hero no matter what.

You look up in his direction again and hold out your hand, manipulating the air in an attempt to slow him down, all the times he produced craters when trying for a soft landing replaying in your mind, but the super powered hero is flying too quickly, cutting right through your efforts, desperate to get to you.

You shut your eyes.

This is going to hurt. 

Jungkook side swipes you, knocking the air out of your lungs as you disappear right before Namjoon’s eyes.

How many craters has it been? Add one more to the tally.

---

You catch your breath, finally sitting up. “Is V not coming?” Jungkook hopped you immediately to Yoongi and Jin, the four of you all falling to the ground like bowling pins at the impact. Jungkook has a knack for strikes.

“He needs an alibi, he is going to be answering questions with the press.”

You huff, Taehyung should be here too, it’s his damn narrative. “Ready?” Yoongi asks the group, his eyes narrowing in on you.

Yoongi reveals his cell, showing off a map with a dozen large dots moving through the streets. “I don’t know if I can take anymore of this,” Jungkook whines wearily.

“You know, all this ended up being perfect practice for hopping into a moving location, yeah?” All three men glare at you. “Err no?”

Jungkook psyches himself up, jumping up and down. “Argh okay!”

“After that, a speeding vehicle can’t be that hard. Just don’t hop us inside of anyone,” Jin teases, grabbing onto the teleporter.

“WHAT. That’s a thing?! He’s done that?” you ask, horrified, pulling your hand back, unwilling to grab onto Jungkook.

“No!” Jungkook yells. “Okay, well, it wasn’t a person. I-I was a kid. Dammit, why did you have to remind me, Jin!”

You gag. A doe-eyed young Jungkook covered from head-to-toe in animal carcass like some tiny serial killer was not something you wanted to imagine at all. Jin laughs at you.

“Jungkook, c’mon, me and y/n got you,” Yoongi reassures as Jungkook concentrates on the map, anxiety and strain clearly present on his features.

“Me too!” Jin says. You grab Jin’s hand and place your other hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Yeah bunny, let’s hop, we got you,” you repeat, winking as you and Yoongi send energy into your teleporting friend.

Jungkook focuses, imagines the streets, the cars, the very exact target rolling down the highway, passing an intersection. With Jin’s help and his powers tapping into the target’s mind, and Jungkook’s overactive imagination, Jungkook can visualize everything so perfectly. It takes only a few seconds to really see…feel the differences between here and there, now and then.

So much in the world to see yet Jungkook can’t be in two places at a time, however two places at a moment's notice? That, he is excellent at!

There’s so much energy whirling around your group, Jungkook vanishes you all in a crackle of electricity.

‘What have you gotten yourself into, y/n.’ Namjoon thinks, zooming to your location.

He found you just in time to see you vanish. And then, like a lightning bolt himself, RM flies into the sky.

---

“Ahh!”

You couldn’t blame their frightful fits, four hooded figures appearing out of thin air like a demon quartet inside the politician’s special armored vehicle would make even the most hardened armed guards yell out of surprise. 

“Pull over!” he yells to his driver.

“I c-can’t!” his driver yells back, desperately pulling on the steering wheel that’s locked into position, stomping on brakes that have no more give. Yoongi smirks, in the passenger’s seat. He runs his fingers over the car’s dash, revving the engine. “The car is not going to listen to you.”

Guns are drawn, but the triggers have already been locked by you.

Click.

Click Click Click.

This is the most uncomfortable ride of your life sans murder attempt, you’re squished in between Jungkook and Jin, practically in their laps. “I’m just gonna-” you wiggle your fingers in front of you and everyone’s weapons land in the laps of the men beside you, who each grab their favorite and put the safety switches back off, smirking.

His secretary tries to dial the emergency number on her cell but thanks to Yoongi, the cell tower has decided not to respond. You freeze everyone’s limbs in the caravan, making things easier.

“I heard rumors of this city, but I can’t believe it's real,” the mayor stutters, body locked and his eyes bulging.

“Rumors, what kind?” you ask, intrigued. 

“Super…villains.”

“Eh?!”

“Get it done,” Yoongi grunts, watching the other dots on his cell move throughout the city.

“Hello Mayor,” Jin speaks. “I’m glad I could catch an audience with you before you left our beautiful city. Seeing as we both share an invested interest in our neighboring habitats, as you demonstrated at today’s rally,” he says, landing a hand on his shoulder and the politician’s eyes glaze over, “this will only take a moment.”

Everyone else stares at your group like the undead, it creeps you out. so you shut their eyes, pulling off your hood. “This thing is itchy, I hate it.”

“We should wear eye masks instead,” Jungkook suggests.

“No masks!” You and Yoongi speak in unison.

“All good!” Jin says cheerfully as he removes his hand.

“He’s pissing himself.” Jungkook complains.

“Ew!” you groan, the smell of pee filling the confined space.

“They do that most of the time, don’t they?” Yoongi grimaces.

“These guys are so old it's amazing they have any control of their bladders,” Seokjin huffs.

“Can’t you, like, stop it,” Jungkook whines at you.

“Ew! No way!” you retort back. “What did you do to him?” you ask, the politician’s eyes still look unfocused and scared, shell-shocked.

“Just had a nice long chat,” Jin says, which didn’t make any sense to you, barely a minute had passed, but you guess it was another one of Jin’s mind games he likes to play. “We worked out a great deal! Right?” Jin warns. The petrified man in front of you can’t really move without your permission, but he squeaks out a small sound of agreement.

“Like I explained, we don’t want to hurt you. We just want your support,” he says, patting the politician’s knee. ��But we can hurt you.”

You tighten his tie with your powers, constricting the politician's throat with his own party colors.

“And find you, wherever you go.” Jin’s voice drops to a lower register and it has a terrifying effect.

Terrifying and sexy, you think. The mind reader rarely acts this serious. It’s a hot look on him. You truly hope Jin is too busy to pay attention to your next thoughts. Jin leans back and puts his arm over your shoulder, dashing your hopes.

“Ready?” Jungkook asks, turning around to peer at Yoongi’s map once more.

The car stops abruptly. So abruptly everyone is thrown forward and backward, but you have the forethought to catch your bodies before any damage happens. 

You turn around, ready to yell at Yoongi for the abrupt stop and see dark brown eyes, a determined scowl, and RM standing with his hands on the front hood.

“I know we can count on your support,” Jin warns.

“How the hell did he find us?”

“Your damn earrings!” Yoongi yells.

 “Don’t blame me!” you pout. “You said you took out the trackers!”

“I did! So why is there one in there?!” Yoongi yells back, realizing the new devices installed.

“Maybe RM put them back in during one of your little sleep overs,” Seokjin whispers in your ear. 

“Your what?”

“J-Jungkook now!” you yell.

In a coordinated effort you all reach for one another, hands interlocking and disappearing right as RM crashes his fist into the windshield.

The chase is on.

Roads are backed up, city traffic is worse than usual while everyone tries to leave the arena, and driving a couple blocks is taking five times longer than usual.

But RM can fly.

And JK can move through space and time.

It takes mere minutes between targets. Though, the time you experience dreading RM causing another commotion while waiting on Jin really feels like an eternity.

-

Ugh, you wish Namjoon didn’t have to wreck every car he managed to track you guys to. He’s really blowing the whole point of this plot, discreetness has gone out the window, or rather his fist is going through the window, and the convoy of police vehicles already surrounding the rather important politician is realizing the enemy had already snuck inside their barrier, turning their sights and guns to the scene.

What will the media say this time? No one was supposed to see you guys or know what you were up to! That was the whole point of this crazy plan, but with RM plans rarely go smoothly. At least part of your plans are succeeding, you think, as the man in front of you agrees over and over again he will be cooperative to Jin.

You pull your hood down lower, concealing your eyes.

“This is the last one, isn’t it? Still need me?” you whisper to Jungkook.

“Uhh yeah, you’re kind of crucial to us not being killed,” Jungkook whispers back.

“You have the guns, though,” you retort.

On cue RM pulls the car door off its hinges, grabbing the closest hooded figure out of the car.

Unfortunately, it’s Jungkook, and the teleporter hops out of his clothes, a new trick he’s learned after dealing with RM.

A very bare chested Jungkook appears right back where he was, hair disheveled and only a mask covering his mouth and identity now. Thank god for Yoongi no cameras are able to catch any identifying tattoos, and you are surprised to see the young teleporter has a lot.

You all reach for him in unison, hands landing on his skin. You and Jin have the same idea, both grabbing a handful of pec...and squeezing.

But RM is not to be underestimated! He wanted to stop you all, but more than that, he wanted to catch you...red-handed.

A small little device was all it took. Namjoon; who has studied up and read every book he could find on electricity, using his intellect instead of his power to try to defeat you this time, with his newfound alone time he started to make devices that might finally help him counter-attack your friends’ infuriating powers; he sets off one of those devices right inside the vehicle.

Jungkook is stunned, quite literally unable to move through the currents shocking his system.

Yoongi is overwhelmed, and by the time it is going to take him to figure out a translation to the new handmade device, with every shockwave he is experiencing, it might be too late!

You, however, could see a solution even if every shock clouded your vision. 

You can’t speak, you can barely move, the stunning was impressively strong. You might have been shocked into a stupor, but in your mind, communication with Jin was perfect.

‘Jungkook!’

‘Hey…JUNGKOOK.’

At a time like this Jungkook didn’t know whether he should be grateful or cursing the fact that all he could think about was Jin’s voice instead of his friends and family and everyone he was about to let down getting so publicly arrested. 

‘Jungkookie, hop us!’

‘DO YOU THINK I WASN’T TRYING?!’ Jungkook thinks back. But due to the untouchable electricity Jungkook couldn’t concentrate on even hopping himself, much less everyone else.

‘No, hop everything! Hop the entire damn car!’

THE CAR THAT WAS CURRENTLY FUCKING UP HIS POWERS? Jin wants Jungkook to bring it along for the ride, err well make it the ride? Hasn’t Jungkook done enough?! The teleporter’s inner monologue rivals the self-pity of a Greek Tragedy hero.

There is a pretty blue glow all around him, the electricity taking on a familiar trait.

Yoongi’s.

Jungkook can hear strained cries coming from you. The shocks multiplying to a painfully strong degree as the device is supercharged.

Actually it doesn't really hurt, it kind of feels like a massage, all the energy is making Jungkook feel good...powerful.

-

“SHIT!” Hoseok yells.

Jimin cries out, falling off his chair.

The device in the car goes haywire for a second, before completely dudding out.

You all topple out of the vehicle, reorienting yourselves with the help of Hoseok and Jimin. You grab Jungkook, stumbling with him to the rear of the caravan.

“You h-have to take it back. The caravan!”

“I can’t,” Jungkook groans, feeling sick.

You lean against his back, hugging him tightly, exhausted from using your powers to such magnitudes, and even still doing so to keep the targets frozen. “You have to,” you squeeze Jungkook, healing and powering up the teleporter one last time-

-

Namjoon blinks. ‘It’s invisible? Did V- No, it’s gone.’

Oh, now it’s back.

He circles the vehicle, finding you and Jungkook sprawled on the ground.

You’re lying face down, passed out over the teleporter, who shifts and tries to kick his feet away from the advancing and furious superhero. Red lasers land on Jungkook’s bare chest-

The tires deflate, hit by the bullets that would have gone through you and Jungkook if the teleporter hadn’t disappeared at that exact moment-

Namjoon stands frozen. ‘S-She’s not dead, Jungkook teleported before she could have gotten hit,’ he thinks.

You’re not dead...you’re not dead...you wouldn’t dare...

He recollects himself, focusing back on the caravan as police descend around him. He looks inside the vehicle, where a group of scared personnel and one positively petrified politician sit...and no one else. “Are you okay?! Tell me what they did to you, I can try and help-”

“Nothing! N-Nothing, they didn’t do anything,” he swallows.

The neighboring city’s mayor stumbles out of the car, screeching at his confused security. “Goddammit, what do I pay you all for?!” Namjoon watches him berate everyone, trying to gain the power he had momentarily been stripped of.

“I can help you,” Namjoon says slow and reassuringly as if her were talking to a temper tantrum-ing child. “If you explain what happened, I can stop them.” Namjoon was frustratingly hitting dead ends as no politician would let him in on what your group was doing, and if there was no crime to report...

“Mayor! Please listen-”

“I-If you’re gonna stop them, then s-stop them! Otherwise leave m-me out of it!”

Namjoon clenches his jaw, eyeing one security guard who looks like he’s on the verge of quitting...

---

“Today is the worst day of my life.”

“What about that time you teleported your hand through a fence and we had to take you to the hospital?”

“Or the time you teleported to that volcano?”

“It was inactive,” Hoseok reminds Jimin.

“Excuse me, the worst day of your life? Did you get shot?” you grunt. Jungkook holds up his arm angrily. “That’s just a graze.”

“Yours is just a graze.”

“Mine is deeper,” you pull Hoseok’s hand away, and blood gushes out from the cut across your hip. “Ow ow ow! See!”

“Can’t you heal it?” Hoseok asks, holding the compress to your side.

“God, I have to do everything around here!” you whine. “I’m tired!” You would still be passed out if you hadn’t woken up from the excruciating pain.

“Should we take them to a doctor?” Yoongi asks Jin.

“Ehh they seem to be okay?” The two oldest watch as the others dote on you and Jungkook, the both of you making convincing arguments as to why you need to be carried in Hoseok’s arms to the couch and why Jungkook needs Jimin to hand-feed him food.

---

You stretch, waking up from your nap, delicately removing yourself from Hoseok’s and Yoongi’s embrace, and finding the teleporter eating his third bowl of ramen. “Jungkook, hop me to RM!” 

“What? Are you crazy? That last time he looked ready to kill me!”

“I will actually kill you if you d-”

“Y/n, I need to debrief with you,” Taehyung calls out to you, entering the quarters. 

Oh there he is, so untraumatized from the whole day’s ordeal, you can’t help but glare at him. “Can’t Jin-”

“No,” Taehyung says sternly, “You, y/n.”

You cross your arms, deciding in which direction you should hurl Taehyung away from you. He crosses his arms too, standing tall, stepping into your space. 

“Alright,” you huff, rolling your eyes. He’s lucky you find the authoritative look so hot. You glance at the mind reader, he better not be listening to you. You bump Taehyung’s shoulder as you head for his room, not wanting to wake the others.

-

“What I don’t understand is how RM found you all so fast?” he asks rhetorically, leaning against his work desk after you explained everything (well, clearly not everything), the two of you alone in his old small office quarters. You stay quiet. “What did I say about wearing those earrings on missions-”

“‘Y/n, don’t wear those earrings on missions,’” you lower your voice as low as you can, mimicking Taehyung’s deep timber.

Taehyung’s eyebrow twitches. You cross your arms. “I didn’t know! If you’re going to blame someone, blame Yoongi! Tech is his specialty, is it not?”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you and Jungkook almost died, because of RM. I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if Jungkook had waited only a second longer-”

You wanted to argue with him, tell him people almost die all the time. That technically it wasn’t RM’s fault, it was Taehyung’s fault for making you all do this in the first place, and that Taehyung has no right to look at you with those accusing eyes of his, just because you weren’t going to stop wearing the present Namjoon gave you. How were you supposed to know he was going to put the trackers back in while you were sleeping, it was kind of impressive actually-

“Everything could have been ruined-”

“You have the support,” you argue. “What more do you want?”

Taehyung runs a hand through his hair, glancing over at you...you, he wants to say. But the way his eyes refuse to look away says enough, making you feel guilty. You decide to change the subject.

“They are catching on though...” you murmur, moving closer to him. “About our powers. We all have to be even more careful.”

“Let them talk, they should feel a little fear. It’s all rumors still. Nothing will hit the news circuit, I will make sure of it.”

“And what if it does come back to you, dear Mayor,” you cross your arms, spitting out the title. “Isn’t that what you have been trying to avoid, by making us do all the dirty work?”

Taehyung smiles at you rather than matching your ire. He pulls off his tie and jacket, removing the stuffy formal clothes. “I appreciate that you help me...us...that you do this for us. Even if you are...compromised,” he says begrudgingly. “You kept my friends alive, and that means more to me...”

‘If he thinks touching your cheek like that and giving you those eyes is going to smooth things over, he’s wrong!’ you think, annoyed and flustered from the attention. You smack his hand away. “My money? You also owe me for fixing the floor...and the table,” you add, looking over at the newly cleaned hide out space after the “car crash” that happened inside.

“Done.” You turn to leave but Taehyung pulls you back. “Before you go running off into the night…” He stops, holding your attention, “...I wanted to show you something.”

He goes over to his desk, pulling out a file, and showing you a bunch of complicated diagrams, but you get the gist of it. Compared to all the other cities, recycling is up, pollution is down, renewable energy use is up, violent crime is down, it's all very impressive data for such a big industrial city. “I just wanted to remind you...why we had to do that...we are doing good-”

“I know that,” you frown, sighing. “I’m not the one you have to convince.” 

You don’t have to say his name, Taehyung already knows who you’re talking about. You won’t seem let it go...him go. You desperately want RM on your side.

Taehyung sighs. You sit in his leather chair, putting your feet up on his desk, looking through the figures again, humming. It does make you happy to see the city so drastically improving, Taehyung doesn't have to know that though (you threaten Seokjin just in case he’s listening).

“How are you and Yoongi?” You catch Taehyung looking at your legs.

“Me and Yoongi? I am great, Yoongi is great. Why don’t you ask Yoongi?” You stiffen. Actually, he seemed pretty upset at you...

Taehyung laughs, “Funny, he said basically the same thing.”

“Well, he’s my favorite for a reason,” you speak apathetically, worried Taehyung will try to use him against you like he does with everything else.

Taehyung smirks down at you knowingly. You cross your arms, wheeling your chair around “Is there anything else before I go, Mayor?”

Taehyung scoffs, leaning over you until you’re caged in, his hands pressing down on the chair’s armrests. He looks down at you, serious, no sly smile or hint of playfulness anymore.

“You really like throwing that in my face. You know, when The Mayor died, because of you by the way, we all decided I was going to run,” he gestures to the cracked door, where you can hear the others argue over...food? Again?! “Do you think I enjoy being in the limelight like this, every little thing I do being scrutinized for everyone to see?”

His face is too close to you, his eyes watch you like he’s peering through you…inside you. “I think you do, and so what? You’re good at it.” You compliment him to smooth down the tension. It's also true, Taehyung is ridiculously charismatic when he wants to be, and great at convincing people to do what he wants, he convinced you...and maybe you hold it against him, the way you always seem to help him get exactly what he wants. Especially when he says things like...

“I feel like you hate me now...” he laughs, unable to hide his sadness and making you feel guilty in the process. “Is it because I keep beating your superhero?”

You break eye contact first, scoffing, following the lines of his jaw down, the top two buttons of Taehyung’s shirt now undone, giving you a glimpse of his chest. By now you are used to everyone else being in your personal space, but not Taehyung. 

It feels...different when he gets so close to you. It feels forbidden. 

Maybe Joon’s disdain for V affects you more than you want to admit-

“I don’t hate you...” you swallow, leaning back as he gets closer. “I...I...just don’t like you.” You decide it’s easier to keep Taehyung at a distance, so you lie. You don’t trust him, or yourself, when you’re around him.

Taehyung stares at you in surprise. “You liar!” he laughs.

“Go ask Jin then!” you challenge, you know Jin is going to tell him you’re lying, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t made it confusing. Taehyung huffs, and then vanishes before your eyes. You barely caught a glimpse of the anger in his expression, now unsure whether you witnessed it at all. 

You try to stand up but Taehyung hasn't actually left, and you bump into him. “You want to know why I don’t like you?” you ask, pushing against his chest. “I know you have Yoongi keeping tabs on me, Jungkook watching me, even Jimin following me acting like a stray, like it’s a crime to want to leave, like I’m not allowed to be on my own. Taehyung…I am never ever going to stop wanting to see my friend!”

You feel Taehyung’s hot breath against the shell of your ear when he whispers, “I’m trying to keep you from getting hurt, y/n. Namjoon is going to hurt you. He always hurts you. It may not always be like today, where we can see it,” you can feel his hand nudge carefully against your healing scar, “but we can all tell you’re hurting...”

Somehow that last part stings worse than your injury. 

His invisibility powers makes Taehyung more confident, daring, adding, “I would never hurt you like that.”

“You say that now…but your powers can’t show the future,” you say quietly. “I-I just want to take my money and go-” 

“Go where, to Kim Namjoon?! Dammit y/n, you think he’s going to be happy to see you after today…” 

“Why are you being like this?!”

“Because I can’t stop! I can’t stop worrying about you…thinking about you…caring about you...” You feel something soft graze your jaw. 

You stay quiet, biting your tongue. You can’t see Taehyung, but it’s like you can feel him everywhere. The chair tilts as he moves himself against you, your arms and legs bumping into his body as you try to balance yourself. You’re not sure what you’re touching but it’s hard and muscled and warm and makes your breath hitch.

You knew Taehyung had grown a particular liking to you for your powers, and you also knew he was a big flirt, but sometimes his honeyed words would catch you off guard, make you wonder if the sweetness oozing from his lips was genuine, and you would have to catch yourself from wanting a taste.

“I’m okay, Taehyung,” you say under your breath, “You don’t have to worry.”

Taehyung appears right in front of you, startling you how close he really was to you, lips right next to yours. “No, ‘Mayor’? Looks like we’re making progress, y/n.” He smirks, his smirk quickly turning into a smile.

You scoff. “You are such a little brat. What do you really want from me, Kim Taehyung?”

“What I’ve always wanted,” he glances down at your lips. “Just you.” The back of his fingers run along your chin. “For once, don’t go to him and stay with me tonight?”

Namjoon liked to tell you how ruthless, how dangerous and evil Taehyung is. Part of you wanted to believe Namjoon…to actually hate Taehyung, it would make things so much easier if you could see what Namjoon sees. But you don’t. So what if he’s opportunistic and vengeful, or willing to do anything to win? Taehyung is a lot like you.

---

You finish showering, wiping the condensation off your mirror. Scalding water felt the best, and tonight, you needed the hot steam and soothing lavender soap to calm you down.

“Jimin! I forgot my towel!”

Jimin brings you a towel in his mouth, having shifted into a small brown dachshund. He shakes his tail happily at you. You know your roommate only stays with you so Taehyung can keep tabs on you, but Jimin is so damn cute when he transforms! You don’t even mind it! He barks twice before leaving, ugh, he’s adorable!

You went home after talking with Taehyung, deciding you wanted to have a night to yourself after all, feeling confused and worst of all, guilty for passing out at the most inconvenient time and almost getting the teleporter seriously injured.

You pull on a satin pair of pajamas, a lacy trimmed tank top and shorts, turning on your tea kettle to make Jimin and you some hot tea.

You sigh, looking down at dachshund Jimin, “Some watch dog you are,” you mutter, picking him up. He licks your face. “I don’t forgive you, traitor,” you accuse, before dropping him down again.

“I know you’re here, I can feel you,” you yell into your empty apartment. You close your eyes, it’s easier to concentrate that way. Was he by your couch, no, where did that sneak move to?

“What do you think? If I tear your body to pieces while you’re like this do they reanimate or will you just be invisible forever so they’ll never find you?” you threaten.

A loud knock at the door stops your thoughts and you whip your head around. You knew who it was, unfortunately. There was no mistaking the size and strength of the particular grouping of molecules that made up the superhero shaped figure stalking around your door. You definitely had to smooth things out with the tech talker so he could remove the earring tracker again.

Jimin growls behind your back, transformed into the largest Doberman you’ve ever seen. “Oh now you wanna guard me? Go to your room, Jimin!” you hiss.

“And don’t fucking move! Wherever you are!” You whisper at your uninvited guest.

Moving to the door, you open it up to a not so friendly face. Joon stands tall in a sweater and jeans, an annoyed glare behind thick frames.

You look him up and down stopping at his new glasses, “Break another pair?”

He stares at you blankly. Did he come all this way to give you the silent treatment?

You step into the hallway with him, shivering. If there wasn’t a certain moppy headed menace in your new apartment with a vendetta against your ex friend you would have pulled Namjoon in by now, but you couldn’t risk it.

“Were you- Are you okay?” he asks, getting his concerns out of the way.

“I was grazed by a bullet,” you smile meekly.

“What?” Namjoon falters, concern spreading over his features.

“Oh, it was bad,” you tease. “I’m lucky I’m alive.”

“Don’t joke-”

You laugh softly, feeling a little less unburdened over his anger at you. “Well I’m fine now, so don't worry,” you smile. “Did you hurt yourself when you landed?” you reach out to touch his shoulder.

Namjoon grabs your hand before you can touch him, back to business. “I need you to come with me-”

“Are you asking me out?” you joke.

“I need you to come with me and tell every one of those people you hurt that when they go to vote next session, they can vote freely without any fear something will happen to them or their families-”

“We wouldn’t hurt their families...”

“Y/n!”

“If you want me to go with you, I will, but it won’t change their minds,” you argue. “You know it too. Just let this one go, Joon, we beat you this time.”

‘We,’ the way you say it breaks Joon. He shakes his head no, holding your wrist tighter.

The tea kettle starts to whistle. “Did you want some tea?”

“Seriously? You can act like nothing happened, after what they did, what you did to-”

You sigh defeatedly, massaging your brow to stop the forming headache. Why does Taehyung always have to be right, it can be so damn infuriating…

“But you don’t mind when I’m helping you, when you’re using me to undermine The Mayor? Suddenly, it’s okay to be around someone you find so despicable, right?!” you yell, your anger getting the best of you. 

Namjoon touches your cheek, turning you to meet his eyes again, letting all the words he wants to say sit on his tongue. 

‘I don't think that,’ ‘Do you know how worried I was about you?’ ‘I was losing my mind,’  ‘Please, just stop what you're doing, I will forgive you if you just! stop!’ “Y/n...” 

Namjoon grabs your arms, pushing you back inside your apartment. “I know he’s in here with you.” 

Well, he was, but not for any weird reason Namjoon was currently processing through right now. “I saw the kettle move. V!”

You look over your shoulder at the silenced kettle. Idiot. But you knew Taehyung was no idiot. You knew he did it on purpose, and that pissed you off even more.

“No-” Namjoon presses, pushing past you. You move in front to stop him, using more than your physical strength to match his own. “It w-was Jimin!”

On cue, a very human Jimin walks out in his boxers, glaring at the superhero. “Y/n, do you need my help?”

“N-No! G-Go put on a shirt!” you hiss, embarrassed at his lack of clothes. You turn back around to face Joon, who is preoccupied, eyes scanning your home for any movement. “Joon...”

Ugh, you just wanted to relax tonight! Screw this! “You know what?! If you want to get back at V, don’t try to change their minds, just make sure they can’t vote.” 

“What are you talking about?”

Jimin calls out your name in warning, scanning the room slowly.

You look around your apartment, trying to pinpoint Taehyung, walking around the superhero who follows your movement. “Why do you think we could blackmail them? They’re corrupt, obviously. Expose them if you really want to try and stop us. Get them arre-”

“I think it’s time for you to leave, Namjoon.” Jimin warns, his eyes flashing an intense yellow, pupils shifting into slits, resembling a cat’s eyes.

“Bring her back, V,” Namjoon growls, reaching out to where you just stood, touching only air.

Taehyung’s hand covers your mouth, your kitchen knife held to your throat. You put your hand over his, pulling at his fingers slowly so you can speak.

“Joon, I’m fine, listen to Jimin-”

“Show me!” Namjoon tries to pinpoint where he heard your voice. And to your surprise, Taehyung reveals the pair of you before hiding you once again.

“You really want to piss him off, huh?” you whisper under your breath to Taehyung, laughing bitterly as Namjoon’s shocked expression turns into fury.

“You did it, you compromised us for what? A nod of approval from someone who only ‘uses you’ to undermine me...your words!” He hisses back.

“You use me, you asshole. And maybe I’m tired of being used, so screw you both!”

“Y/N!” Namjoon roars.

Taehyung pushes you into the superhero, letting him see you. “Y-You’re bleeding!” Namjoon looks over your body for any other marks. Jimin’s eyes go wide in surprise, darkening back to his usual color.

“Oh. Yeah,” you wipe the small line of blood off your neck, healing yourself quickly.  “See, I’m fine.”

Namjoon holds you tightly. “You’re coming with me-”

“You won’t win that way-”

“W-Well, I’m not leaving you alone with them!”

You laugh, a sudden warmth in your chest returning at the frightful concern in his eyes, “I’ll be okay Joon, trust me,” you hug him suddenly, whispering into his ear, “Go, you’re going to need to work fast if you want to beat us, right?”

‘Us’ again, Namjoon thinks bitterly. Namjoon holds your head in his large hands, rubbing away the smudged blood from your neck. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought he might have kissed you in that moment.

You glare at the spot over Namjoon’s shoulder, lifting your hand away from Joon, a knife reanimates and flies into the kitchen, clanking to the ground close to Jimin, making the shapeshifter yelp. Namjoon tries to punch V, only swinging at air, “I can take care of myself,” you reiterate, shoving Joon away and closing the door shut with your mind as he escapes.

“Okay okay, you can’t blame me for trying to kill him,” Taehyung reanimates in front of you, an apologetic smile on his annoying face.

“You are insufferable. I can’t stand you. You’re the worst-”

“Jimin, wake up Jungkook and tell him he needs to have eyes and ears on our new friends until I can get my bill passed, now it’s going to be out of our jurisdiction so he needs to be careful-”

“-All that bullshit before about being worried about me-”

“-Then in the morning let Yoongi know he needs to monitor any new police record requests-”

Jimin clears his throat. “Y/n, are you okay?” Jimin asks you wearily before Taehyung goes any further.

“Like I said, I’m fine,” you glare at Taehyung when you say it, finally nodding at Jimin and giving him a weak smile to let him know you’re okay. “So what now, asshole? Gonna try and stab me in the back next?”

“Like you did to us? But I know you’ll stop me before anything really happens to you,” Taehyung says a matter-of-factly. “C’mon, you weren’t in any real danger. I would never actually hurt you, obviously.”

You have half a mind to just let him brutally maim you out of spite. The way Jimin ignored him meant he wasn’t too impressed with what Taehyung did to you either, could you turn him against Taehyung for you? 

A hawk lands on your shoulder, Jimin’s beak knocking against your jaw, “I’m okay,” you laugh, “He wasn’t actually pressing hard.” Hawk Jimin lands on Taehyung’s shoulder next, ruffling his feathers, listening to the rest of his instructions before leaving out the window.

“Y/n, I’m sorry-”

“I just took a shower,” you whine.

Taehyung wets a wash cloth, cleaning the dried blood off your skin. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. “But I had to think fast, and you left me with little options.”

“And your first thought just had to be kidnapping with a deadly weapon? You drive me crazy.”

Taehyung chuckles, deep, soft, comforting, his fingers delicately working to help you now that Namjoon was gone. Taehyung’s specific type of comfort wasn’t what you really wanted, but it was better than nothing. You glance over at him as he silently works to clean you up.

“I’m not sorry,” you mutter, sulking.

“Oh I know damn well you’re not,” Taehyung mutters too.

“Why did you come here in the first place? I promised you, didn’t I?”

“Looks like it happened anyways...I know I said I would give you space...I...couldn't stay away.” Taehyung looks lost, unsure about what to say next, there’s no confident banter you’re used to from him.

“So needy...” you raise your eyebrow at him. You said it lightly, only teasing him, seeing if you could get him to crack a smile after the intense show down. And he does. 

“...and we’re not even dating.”

“Not yet,” he smirks.

“Funny, how about we go a day without trying to kill each other first?”

“I can do that,” he says confidently.

---

Jimin is purring, cuddled against your head as an orange tabby cat. You scratch his ears and he purrs even louder. “Where are we?” This bed is huge and definitely not yours. Jimin stretches his cat body and jumps off the bed, hiding away because he knows you’re going to be mad at the answer.

You quickly put two and two together, noticing the opulence in the room, the only other place you could be was at Mayor Kim’s mansion.

“Where is Jungkook?” you find Taehyung in his study.

“Out cleaning up your mess, why?”

“Because I promised him I would break his fingers if he hopped me without my permission again.”

“I asked him to, so-” Taehyung holds out his palm to you, continuing to write down notes with his other hand.

You should. You really really want to.

“And why did you do that?”

“Because I needed to work.”

You try not to raise your voice with your next question, “And why am I here?”

“Until the bill is passed, you’ll stay with me,” he states, going back to his note taking.

“And why would I agree to that?!” You scream, poise and restraint now long gone.

Taehyung crosses his arms. “Because I can say with a hundred percent certainty you will somehow find a way to mess this up even more if I let you out of my sight.”

His desk begins to shake, the pictures in his office tilting askew. “You think you can keep me here?”

“You’ll do what I say, because I’ll tell the others what you did and as much as you like to pretend you don’t care about what they think of you-”

“Shh.” You hold up a finger, shutting Taehyung’s mouth with your powers. 

You look around his office. The decor is tasteful and elegant, expensive antiques and gold finishing. Taehyung fits right in with his dignified demeanor. But you don’t belong here…and you don’t want to.  

“Mayor Kim…” you step closer to your immobilized cohort, circling his desk. “You could have just asked nicely.” You take a seat on said desk, crunching the paper under you. You grab the tip of his tie wrapping it one, two, three times around your palm, pulling him closer to you.

“I’ve played along, haven’t I? Don’t make me your enemy.” You finally let your telekinetic hold on Taehyung go.

“RM is the enemy,” he swallows.

“Joon is not my enemy-”

“But he is though, y/n. You can’t be so naïve-” You yank his tie to the side, his head pressing painfully on the wood next to you. He breathes through his teeth, glaring up at you.

“And you’re so wise? Then choose your next words wisely, Taehyung.”

Taehyung grunts, palm flat on your thigh, pressing down as he tries to lift himself up unsuccessfully. 

There is really only one man strong enough to fight your power. 

His fingers curl into the flesh of your thigh, catching you off guard. “Did you forget our promise to each other?”

You roll your eyes, letting his tie go and crossing your arms. “You’re making it very hard for me to even like you-”

“Not that promise,” he says, fingers still gripping at your thigh. “The one we made to each other the day you asked me to help you kill The Mayor.”

-VOWS-

“Have you ever killed someone before?” Taehyung crosses his arms, looking you up and down. You would have normally faltered under his scrutinizing gaze, but you had let go of your shame in your desperation.

Should you lie? Make him believe you had no reservations. You had a feeling he would be able to see right through your lies even without Seokjin’s assistance. “No.”

Taehyung’s office had high windows and bad lighting, but the moon was full and the blinds were broken. Streaks of moonlight covered the walls of Taehyung’s office, striping the shadows where he stood.

It took you all day to build up the courage to ask Seokjin to take you to see Taehyung. You knew it was going to be no easy task to convince Taehyung and the others with the way Seokjin’s normally cocky demeanor darkened when your initial shock wore off and your intentions were clear. 

Taehyung shakes his head. “We’re all going to have targets on our backs if we do this and he doesn’t die. Also, if we do go through with what you want… Y/n, you’re asking us to become murderers-”

“I’m not asking you to! I’m asking you to help me… You help me do this, and I’ll help you.”

“With what?”

“With anything,” you swallow, resolute. “I have to do this. He’s going to…he’s going to hurt Joon if I don’t do something!”

“I know.” Taehyung says impassively, “You know, that would solve all my problems, I won’t have to worry about RM anymore. So what do I even get out of helping you? What is worth putting all of us in danger to save Kim Namjoon?”

You look at him in disbelief. You want to tell Taehyung to go to hell, but you have no idea how to stop The Mayor on your own without getting caught. You need his help. “You brought me here! Why would you kidnap me, have Seokjin show me those things-”

“You’re not listening, so let me ask you again, what will you do for me-”

“What! What do you want?! I said I’d do anything!” Your eyes sting as you blink away tears in your frustration. “Taehyung, please,” you cry. 

“Everything. Not anything, from now on, I want you to help us with everything.” He grips your shoulders tight. “Then, I will kill The Mayor for you myself if I have to.”

You swallow, mentally working through Taehyung’s conditions and confession. The way he said it so ardently, you wonder…if Taehyung has killed before. “No, I’ll do it.” 

For Namjoon, to protect him, you would do the absolute worst without any regrets.

---

You look down at Taehyung’s long slender fingers, splayed across your thigh, resigning to his touch. “I haven’t forgotten.” You lie back, stretching out your arms, sighing. You are very aware you are making a mess of his carefully stacked memos and you don’t care. “What if I promise to be a good girl from now on? Cross my heart.” You wink, using your powers to move Taehyung’s fingers in an X across your thigh.

He licks his lips, watching as his fingers trace along your skin. “Oh but I know you’re not” Taehyung’s eyes narrow on your sly smile, his fingers moving higher up your thigh. “You like to play the part, but you always end up being…” he coughs, “bad.”

“Maybe,” you say flippantly. “Or maybe you don’t give me much of a choice.” You glare at him.

He leans over his desk and over you, caging you in. “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it. I’ve watched you torturing people with a smile on your face.”

You sigh, giving up again. “People. People or monsters?”

“You don’t have to defend yourself to me, y/n. That’s why we make a good team,” he smiles, gripping your knee instead and shaking your leg reassuringly. You grind your teeth, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“I don’t mean to upset you, but…do you think Namjoon would ever give you the same grace? I wish you would see what’s in front of you…” 

His hand moves to your cheek, holding you gently. His lips touch yours so softly and leave so quickly the act could barely qualify as a kiss. 

Taehyung had been so gentle with you, which made the following brutality hurt even worse.

“If Namjoon knew how you really were, would he think you were a monster? If he saw what I saw that night, and what you did in that room over there,” Taehyung turns your chin so you have to look. The door to the adjoining room is shut and locked. Taehyung keeps the small study room closed, because even he can barely stomach the memory. “Would he touch you like this?” his lips press against your cheek.

-

“Jimin,” you grunt, cuddling the napping feline close to you. “Turn back into a human, please, I...need you.” Jimin transforms, his limbs tangling around yours, pulling you into an embrace.

“You know Tae is not as bad as you think he is, he’s helped me so many times, give him a chance to prove himself-”

“Bad…good…I don’t care, right now he’s being a pain in my ass,” you mumble, burying your head in Jimin’s chest where it’s warm and cozy and his steady heartbeat calms you down. 

“Why do you hate him so much?” Jimin chuckles.

“If I hated him, would I still be here?” you mumble, resting against him. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Jimin holds you tighter when you shake, breath catching in your throat. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” you don’t want to think about it and confirm your worst fears. “Can I ask you something?” you ask, looking for a distraction, perhaps some blackmail. Jimin turns his head, waiting.  “Why V?”

“Why do we follow V?”

“No.” You remember the purple spray paint etched across the bank door, back when you and Namjoon were inseparable. “Why the name, V?”

Jimin laughs, sighing, “Well-”

-

“How’s it back home?” Taehyung asks as Jungkook and Yoongi reappear with a week’s supply of homemade food in their arms, a gift from Jungkook’s mother.

“It’s getting worse,” Yoongi sighs. “Some parts can’t even cook with it.” 

‘It,’ being their town’s water supply. Yoongi and Jungkook just finished their weekly trip to drop off cases of water to their families and friends. “And if that new bill goes through…I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Well, you are thinking about it, quite loudly,” Seokjin interjects, rubbing his eyes.

The group sits quietly together. “Should we try another petition?” Hoseok suggests, optimistic.

Everyone knows it won’t work. They all knew what had to be done, but Taehyung was the only one courageous enough to say it.

“No…” Taehyung sighs, glancing over at Jin, knowing he could see the idea he had in mind. “We’ve tried it their way, now let’s do it our way.”

Jungkook cracks his knuckles. “What did you have in mind?”

Suddenly Seokjin laughs, gathering everyone’s attention. “This guy not only wants us to kidnap The Mayor, he wants us to rob a bank and blow up the courthouse.”

“Blow it up?!”

“Wait, rob a bank? Like…bank robbers?”

“Me and Jungkook have discussed it before,” Taehyung says, shrugging. “We can do it…with your help, Yoongi.” Taehyung turns to the tech talker, who seems to be mulling the idea over.

“But The Mayor, you really think we can get away with it? It’s-”

“Dangerous.” Seokjin finishes Jungkook’s thought.

“Dangerous and high-profile. I thought we are supposed to be keeping a low-profile,” Jimin reminds them.

“We’ve tried everything else,” Taehyung interjects. “Haven’t we? Maybe it’s time we make a scene.”

“And if we get caught….you’re asking us to commit about seven different felonies,” Seokjin says.

“The Mayor is too risky,” Jimin interjects again.

“We can do this! Jin?” he asks Seokjin, hoping for backup.

“I’m definitely not The Mayor’s biggest fan, but this…”

“You’ve looked through his mind, tell me if there is another way to convince him.” Jin rubs his jaw, stretching his neck, thinking it over. “This is for our families too, not just us this time. This is a chance to really make a difference. A huge difference!” Taehyung tries to convince him.

“If anything goes wrong-”

“Then Jungkook and I will get you out, no matter what, right?” Taehyung catches the youngest’s gaze and he nods. 

He looks around the group, adding. “Just like any other time. We can do this.”

“This is not like any other time,” Jimin whines. 

“We were almost arrested at the last protest.” Taehyung says bitterly. “They want us to be criminals so badly, so why don’t we?”

Hoseok crosses his arms. “You’re asking us to be a little more than criminals-” 

“I’m in.” Yoongi speaks first, surprising everyone.

“I’m in,” Seokjin adds immediately after, coughing. “I try not to hold people’s thoughts against them, but…” He looks around the room, “Taehyung’s right, The Mayor only cares about money, he’s not going to change his mind.”

Taehyung tries to hide his smile unsuccessfully. “They think they have all the power. But the six of us here? We have real power, we just have to be willing to use it against them.”

“You forget…RM…” Jimin adds.  “What if he gets involved?”

“Against all of us? Six against one? He’ll never see us coming!”

“But he’s a superhero,” Jungkook says with a mixture of awe and worry. “How are we supposed to beat him?”

“We’ll we’re– uh,” Taehyung falters. “We have super powers too, don’t we?” Taehyung sighs. “RM and The Mayor have control of this city, but they don’t know it like us, we’re in the streets every day.”

“What are you saying?”

Seokjin laughs quietly, breaking the silence, “...I’m not wearing a cape.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen, “You want us to be superheroes?”

“No,” Seokjin says, staring at Taehyung.

“No,” Taehyung says. “They’ll never see us as heroes.” He sighs, leaning back. 

Hoseok frowns. Jungkook nervously taps his foot and Yoongi crosses his arms. Jimin looks around the room at everyone’s solemn expressions and Seokjin laughs, breaking the tension.

“We’re going to be super-”

“-Villains.” Seokjin finishes. 

“I’ll be their villain. I’ll be, V.” Taehyung adds, “So will you help me?”

Seokjin tsks, “RM vs. V? I’ll put some money on that. But I guess first we’re gonna have to steal it.”

“Tell us your plan, then, V.” Hoseok crosses his arms.

“Yeah, V.” Jungkook chimes in, laughing. And everything goes back to normal for the time being.

-

“Hmmm.” You play with Jimin’s fingers, “Not super subtle, is it? And you all just agreed?”

“Yeah, we all agreed eventually, wouldn’t you?” he smiles.

You roll your eyes. Well knowing what you know now about The Mayor, it wasn’t even a question! But…

“You’re loyal,” you look at Jimin, watching as his eyes slowly shift colors. “I can respect that.” You add, “Do you ever regret it?”

“Hmm,” Jimin stretches, crossing his arms behind his head. “Nah. We all…had a difficult time growing up. Now I’m sleeping in the Mayor’s mansion with a pretty girl next to me,” he jokes. “Even if this all blows up in our faces, it was worth it.”

“You don’t mind the whole world seeing you as a ‘villain’?” you ask, trying to keep your own anxious feelings down.

“The people I love don’t see me like that.”

You frown. You wish you could say the same thing…

Jimin realizes his mistake. “We all think you’re pretty badass. I’m glad you’re on our side,” he soothes. “Listen…” He sighs, wondering if he should mention the superhero, eventually deciding to continue, “I think Namjoon will eventually-”

You scoff, “I don’t wanna talk about him, just...don’t let go.” You move closer into Jimin’s arms.

You didn’t want to think about Taehyung or Namjoon or anyone right now. You just wanted to be hugged.

-

“This is a panic room, not a lounge.”

“Well, you’re keeping me here like a damn prisoner, I thought I should play the part,” you dismiss, looking over the multiple camera displays with an idealistic hope you might catch a glimpse of your superhero in the sky.

“I brought in a private chef the other day-”

“I have work, you know-”

“You are always complaining about wanting a vacation!”

“Yeah, to like, The Bahamas!” you whine.

Taehyung sighs. You sigh even louder.

“How about this, I’ll take you out, I’ve been so busy with drafting proposals, I haven’t had a chance to get out either. We could go out for drinks?”

“Aren’t you worried about being recognized?”

Taehyung smiles.

-

You know Taehyung has to hold your hand so his powers could make you invisible too, but it still feels like his fingers interlocked with yours means something more…

You did however enjoy the feeling of weaving through bodies undetected, walking down the street together completely undetectable to the naked eye.

“How are you doing?” you ask him.

“I could do this all night,” he smiles, looking in your direction. You stifle a laugh. “Seriously, lately I haven’t had a chance to use my powers. Before, I used to be invisible all the time.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I felt more myself when I was.”

You guess you could relate in some ways. Growing up, you would avoid your powers like a plague, constantly afraid Namjoon would notice or that you might even lose control. But now that you freely use your powers, it feels like a relief, like you had been holding your breath all this time and you can finally fully breathe. 

You still have those anxious thoughts every now and then, but it’s gotten better the longer you’ve been around Taehyung’s group. 

“Saw that.”

“What?” you play coy, eating the fried dough you swiped from the food cart you and Taehyung just passed by. Taehyung sighs, stopping and pulling out some bills, dropping the money under the cart.

“Look at you,” you eye him, “Is this the same man who stole an entire suitcase full of jewelry?” you rib.

“That’s different, to someone like him, the value of losing a sale is worth more and I can afford to pay him.”

You stuff the remaining fried dough in your mouth. “Mhmm, not to that jeweler. Let’s go look at the lights!” You pull Taehyung along, running towards the water, a place in the city that has a nightly light display to music.

You want to get closer, but the crowd makes it impossible, it’s already hard enough to dodge people without causing a disturbance and freaking out the people around you. Taehyung holds you from behind as you reluctantly move further away to avoid suspicion. “Should I unmask us so you can see?”

“Hmm I could use my powers and-” You use your powers to defy gravity, as you and Taehyung’s body start to rise.

His grip around you tightens, “Ahh no no.”

You laugh, letting your powers waiver so your heels drop back down. “What, scared of flying?”

“Scared of heights,” Taehyung winces.

“Ooh, now I know one of your weaknesses,” you tease.

Taehyung scoffs, “Here, get that for me,” Taehyung gestures to a man standing close, looking at his hat, which at the precise moment blows away in the “wind.” You catch it easily as the man looks around for his missing hat. Taehyung thanks you and puts the cap on and pulls it down over his eyes before revealing himself and you.

“C’mon, let’s go.” He pulls you this time, guiding you into the crowd so you can see the lights better.

“Are you sure this is okay? What if someone recognizes you?” you whisper.

He leans in closer to you, head over your shoulder. “I’m not worried, I have a more than capable bodyguard right here.

You laugh, “Alright, if you say so,” you smile, letting him hug you from behind. This is the closest you and him have ever been, and even though you have the perfect view of the lights, it’s hard to pay attention with Taehyung wrapped around you so tightly, his hot breath hitting your cheek.

“You okay?” Of course Taehyung wouldn’t give you the luxury of ignoring your body’s traitorous responses. “Your heart is pounding.” His arms move up higher against your torso, pressing up against your breasts. “Excited?” he says teasingly.

“I haven’t seen the lights in awhile, so yeah,” you dismiss, turning your head upwards to the sky.

Taehyung chuckles, enjoying the moment. 

“Y/n, I like you,”  Taehyung whispers in your ear.

“Do you say that to all the girls that help you overthrow an election?”

“I liked you way before that.”

“Sure, you did,” you dismiss.

“Do you even remember when we were in school?”

“Of course I remember you.”

“No you really don’t. You were always too busy with Namjoon to notice anyone else.” Taehyung sighs. “Maybe you would have noticed I liked you then.”

“What? Don’t lie to me.”

“I did!” he defends himself, “You really don’t remember, do you?”

It was true Taehyung never bullied you like your other classmates, but he was just being kind, wasn’t he?

“You were like me, different. Even before our powers. And I liked the way you never backed down to others. I wanted to be like you. I tried to be your friend-”

“That’s not true,” you turn around, forgetting about the lights.

“Ask Jimin and Jungkook. Namjoon was like your human shield.” He runs his hand along your jawline. “And I was…not brave enough then,” he looks down.

Can you believe him? Back in school you remember Taehyung was well-liked and popular, a little eccentric sometimes and acted like a goofball with his friends, but… 

You try to think back to any interactions you might have had with him-

A group of popular girls had knocked your books out of your hands. You yelled at them as they had walked away laughing. You wanted desperately to throw them down the stairs with your powers, but you calmed yourself before acting rashly, knowing you probably would have miscalculated and fatally hurt one of them…as if they didn’t deserve it!

But before you could work yourself back up again, your classmate Taehyung came and picked up your books for you, apologizing on their behalf. 

God, you wish you could remember more. When you thought more about that day, you only remembered how Namjoon came bounding to you, worriedly looked you over, vowing to tell the teachers, which only made you hit him with your books before making him promise to let it go, cause no one liked a snitch!

Taehyung’s hand firm against your cheek brought your thoughts back into the moment, to his face so close to yours and his determined eyes staring down at you. You tried to find another memory, something to confirm his words, but you couldn’t. You felt glued to him in this moment, lost in his deep brown eyes, so pleadingly looking at you to believe him.

You feel so shocked you can’t move, even when his lips press against yours.

-FIVE DAYS LATER-

You and Jimin wore sunglasses and the same tight-fitted black suit, standing on both sides of the mind reader, you all really looked the part of Taehyung’s entourage.

“I’m not taking a bullet for that man,” you mutter under your breath at Yoongi, who pushes his sunglasses down to stare at you.

“I like you in a pant suit.”

“Yeah? Well cause I look better than all of you.”

“Not better than me!” Seokjin announces.

“That’s debatable,” Jimin laughs.

“Jimin, I would die for you!” You smile, and remembering security is supposed to be stoic, go back to glaring at anyone who looks in Taehyung’s direction.

There is so much controversy surrounding the bill now, every political figure is on high alert. Taehyung has to keep appearances, lest they suspect him.

“So what’s the tally now?” you ask Yoongi.

“He’s got one on a pretty damning domestic violence charge, his ex wife was all over social media accusing him, but RM finally got the DA to charge him...but he’s out on bail.”

“He can still work?!”

“Well yeah, he’s not convicted yet. Innocent until proven guilty!” Jin says sarcastically.

“What about the embezzlement guy?” Jimin asks. “The one all over the news now.”

“Oh we lost that one, looks you can beat your wife but not the feds.”

You groan. “And I guess I’m not allowed to hurt Mr. Wife Beater until the bill is passed?”

“Correct,” Taehyung says, looking over his shoulder at you. You roll your eyes.

“See you in a bit,” you whisper to Yoongi.

“See ya, don’t enjoy yourself too much,” he whispers back, hooking your pinkies together.

“Oh but I will,” you wink, teasing him before you, Jin, and Hoseok veer away from the group.

“I was kind of digging the pants suit,” you say as Hoseok hands you a backpack full of new clothes. The three of you are in one bathroom stall, changing into clothes that look less like security and more like Taehyung’s attire, a dress and suits fit for someone of elite status.

“If you peek I’ll know,” Jin says, unbuttoning his shirt.

You turn your back to him, doing the same. “Not interested,” you scoff.

“That’s a lie,” Jin says.

“Okay, human lie detector,” you groan, unbuttoning your pants.

Hoseok’s bare shoulder rubs against your naked body as he pulls on a new pair of pants.

“Hoseok, please control your thoughts,” Jin whines.

“What?” Hoseok squeaks as you step into your dress.

“Can you zip it up for me?” you turn around. Hoseok’s suit is white, a relaxed loose fit that looks perfect on him. Seokjin’s suit is devilishly red, buttoned tight around his waist, showing off his lean and tall frame. It makes perfect sense to you, their choices, an angel and devil, who would you choose to listen to tonight?

“W-Where are your clothes!”

“What do you mean?” you look down at your own dress, long, black and velvet, with sheer detailing, and a very very very high slit.

“It’s see through!”

“Whatever, it’s covering the important bits.” You fasten a diamond necklace around your neck and decide you will not be returning this ensemble to Taehyung at the end of the night. “Zip it!” Jin does it for you, teasingly slow, of course, that devil.

“Ready to play your parts?” Jin asks. You and Hoseok both nod and then you scatter into the crowd inside the art museum.

The life of the party. Hoseok chats everyone up, learning who is who, and who the important people are. Of course there is Mayor Kim tonight, a fan of art, visiting the city Museum during its charity event. There is a slew of socialites, daughters of rich men, flirting and offering Hoseok their thoughts on the artist. There is a high profile collector in attendance, and a lastly, a few lovers of art, who would have guessed?

The gaucho. Jin is loud, condescending, the worst kind of art critic. Oh, you haven’t heard of him? That sounds like a you problem. He’s the type that can sway a whole crowd with his views. A pat on the back, to look at the piece again, and suddenly they can see it too. He strategically thins the crowds around certain art pieces.

And you are, the provocateur.

“Joon!” The challenge. He looks cute, so out of place in his sweater and long coat, but somehow fitting in perfectly between the art pieces.

“Y/n, w-what are you doing here?”

“Oh, well...” you move to his side, hooking your arm under his, “I am...going to steal that,” you nod to the large art piece against the farthest wall.

Namjoon scans the area, seeing if anyone heard you. “You’re being serious?” he says in disbelief, “Are you insane? Do you think I’m going to let you?”

You lean against him. “No,” you smile. “I intend to steal it and get caught doing it. It’s a fake, Namjoon,“ you whisper, laughing, as if it were obvious.

“What?” he peers over at the painting, holding himself back from getting closer. “How can you tell?”

“Well you can’t really, that’s the point. Which I guess begs the question, what makes that one so worthless?”

“The original holds the artist’s idea...” You two walk around the room, looking at another art piece. “It just can’t be compared.”

“But, if the copy is flawless in every way, the effort it took to paint is still there...the brush strokes, the paint, the time, all add up. Yet the original is just...always better? You can’t even tell the difference!”

“The artist who painted it can tell.”

“The artist is dead, and you know what? I bet he couldn’t, I bet I could convince him that that one was the original, just like everyone else here is convinced.”

“Then it’s selling a lie.”

“So you agree then, I should take it? Expose the truth!” you tease.

“Where’s the real one?” Namjoon asks, ignoring your question with one of his own.

“Probably in some old guy’s home collecting dust and being used to launder money. Taehyung wants to expose the fake and the art gallery’s shady dealings, maybe even get the original back...”

“Why would he go to all this trouble?”

“That’s just his style,” you joke. “You should know by now. So will you let me steal it?”

“How do I know you just didn’t make all this up right now?”

You sigh. “I guess we can’t all have Jin’s assuredness, huh?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon frowns, watching the man in question walk to another painting with a large crowd in tow, ready to hear his thoughts on the next piece.

“Well, I’m still stealing it,” you declare. “But we have time until then, so want to show me around? Or leave me to my own evil devices?” you tease, “Or take me someplace where we can be alone?” you bite you lip, eyeing him up and down.

Namjoon swallows, trying to think of anything other than the way your body is so on display in your sheer dress, your curves rivaling the beauty of the three dimensional art pieces around you. He tries not to think about you in his arms, twisting you as he pleases, the translucent nylon stretching and showing more of you until he forgets to breathe. “Why do I get the feeling you are trying to distract me?”

“Well it’s true I want all your attention,” you stare at him, daring him to look away. “I have to remind you though, now that I told you, if you do let me steal it...you’ll be an accomplice.”

Namjoon laughs a little too loud and people stare at the pair of you.

“Joon...” you say softly, “I miss you.”

“You have lots of friends now to keep you company.” He fixes the gems of your necklace, fingers lingering on your cheek. “Which one of them stole this for you?”

You resist the urge to frown and roll your eyes, turning to the still life painting in front of you instead. “Go ahead and confiscate it if you want, might as well take the dress off of me too,” you challenge.

Namjoon drags you to the next art piece, defiantly silent.

“I hoped you might have felt the same,” you sigh, “I guess that’s stupid of me, to hope you missed me too.”

Namjoon clenches his jaw, eyes focused on the large painting. “You know how I feel about you-”

“I don’t know,” you argue, wanting to hear him say it.

“What I feel doesn’t matter, actions matter.”

Goddamn him. “I don’t want to argue with you tonight. Can’t we enjoy the art, like we used to?”

“The red lines in this painting, notice how you can follow through to this one, and this?”

You nod, holding his arm tighter. He pulls you closer to the last painting, turning your body to look at all three, so you can see how the overlapping lines connect across each piece. “Red for blood, representing the strings of fate.” Namjoon’s arm naturally wraps around your waist, his jaw against your cheek as he gently guides your eye line. 

“You see all that?” you smile, you could listen to him pick apart art all day long.

Namjoon’s finger taps the plaque next to you, titled “Moirai.” The three fates. You tilt your head to look behind you, where his frame towers. His eyes sparkle with passion for the art. You think it’s the art, but your heart hopes it’s something more...

“I…want to kiss you so badly...”

Namjoon looks at you, his heart jumping in his chest-

“There you are! I was wondering where you went off to. You don't mind if I steal your friend away, right?”

Taehyung. This was not part of the plan!

Cameras are suddenly around you, a handful of photographers that have been shadowing The Mayor. Namjoon has no choice but to offer him a tight lipped smile, nodding. “She’s all yours, for now,” he adds under his breath.

Taehyung holds his hand out to you and you don’t miss a beat, placing your fingers in his palm. He kisses your knuckles and the cameras love it, a dozen flashes going off in unison.

“You look familiar. Have we met before?” Mayor Kim addresses Namjoon. Taehyung is clearly out for blood, playing coy and using his status against him.

“Namjoon is an art history expert,” you say proudly, “and he is a collector of art!”

“No I am not,” Namjoon mutters, ears reddening.

“You are!” you still remember how he saved up for months to buy a particular painting he adored. When he first moved in, you helped him frame all the drawings he has collected over the years. “His home looks like an art gallery.”

“Ahhh,” Taehyung fakes intrigue. “One more photo, guys!” He turns to the cameras, “Please, let me have some time to myself to enjoy...the art,” he grins in your direction.

Taehyung pulls you to his side, and you’re forced to fake a smile for the cameras, the flashes nearly blinding you. How does Taehyung do this all the time, and seem to enjoy it?

Taehyung smiles wide. His arm is over your shoulder, fingers tickling your arm. Cameras flash.

His arm moves lower, stopping around your waist. Flash. He quickly pulls you closer, turns his head and nuzzles your neck. Flash. You can’t help but giggle uncontrollably and cameras flash two times faster. Flash Flash Flash. You’re going to have to have a talk with Yoongi to make sure none of those photos end up online.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Taehyung says after photographers have scurried away. He peers over at Namjoon who has managed to keep himself from ripping Taehyung's arms off of you up until this point, his restraint now wavering to dangerous levels.

Namjoon nods in agreement, staring at you as you become increasingly more uncomfortable with whatever game Taehyung is playing. “Mayor Kim, have you been drinking?”

“Yes, there’s an open bar,” he reminds you, “but I am still more than capable of-” he turns to Namjoon, whispering, “stealing that painting.”

You step in between both men as Namjoon advances, running into Namjoon’s arms instead before The Mayor’s security descends. You hadn’t expected Namjoon to wrap his arms around you. “I would love that. I would love for you to try, instead of making my friend act like a criminal.”

Taehyung tilts his head at the pair of you, “It’s no act.”

“Joon, show me your favorite art piece here, will you?” You try to move the headstrong pair away from each other.

Namjoon looks between you and the Mayor. He can’t figure it out, the plan you have both concocted, and it is infuriating. “And what if I leave and take you with me right now.” He interlocks his arms around your frame, looking at you, testing your reaction. You want to tell him to take you, more than anything-

“Hmm I’d let you have her for tonight to keep you out of my hair.”

“Taehyung!” you hiss as Namjoon pushes against you to get closer to the Mayor, a huge mistake that has what’s left of his security coming to stop Joon. Why is he ruining his own goddamn plan?! Unless...

“Is there a problem, Sir?” Jimin speaks up, halting your argument. You glare at-

The mastermind. It was all Taehyung’s idea to do this. Even though Taehyung had an appreciation for the craftmanship of modern art, he despised the art scene, the overinflated prices, the elitism of it all, the very culture often being critiqued gathering together to inflate their own egos rather than to show any real appreciation for what it took to create such magnificence. Which is why Taehyung wanted to expose all of it for the sham it was. And, perhaps, get the real art piece somewhere where it will be appreciated, like in his study...

But the plan was to distract Namjoon while the others work to switch the original with a fake, not piss him off so much he was going to get you all kicked out before you could do anything!

There was something Taehyung was keeping from you...

Is there no honor amongst thieves?!

“Yes, Jimin, can you please escort Mr...Kim Namjoon, was it? Mr. Kim Namjoon out before he does something he regrets.”

“No. No!” You hold onto Namjoon. You didn’t want your time with him to be cut so short.

“Don’t make a scene, darling.” Taehyung pulls you to him quickly.

“You’re the one making a fucking scene,” you whisper, unwilling to part from Joon, wanting to cry at this unfair treatment. You knew how much Namjoon loved art and how much he wanted to be here.

Namjoon watched as you abated your breath and held in your tears, and the sight kept him from charging through security to get to Taehyung, even when the young politician put his arm around your shoulder arrogantly.

“I’ll be back…as RM,” he threatens.

“We’re counting on it,” Taehyung smiles.

-

“Why would you do that? We said he would stay!”

“He has to believe it. That’s the plan, right, my damsel?”

“He will,” you swallow, worried you’ve gone too far. No…this will work. Even though you have a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach over Taehyung’s enthusiastic cooperation.

“And will you give me some damn space?” you threaten, acutely aware of how Taehyung has himself pressed up against you, leaning into you like a lover would.

He wraps his arms around your waist. “Do you have any idea how hot you look right now?”

“You really are drunk, aren’t you?”

Taehyung chuckles, head knocking into yours. “I want to kiss you.”

You look around, surprised no one has noticed his antics. “You’re going to kiss me? In front of all these people and cameras?” you laugh.

“No. Because,” he holds your waist tightly, “They don’t see us.” He moves you closer to a vase on display. You peer down at the shiny surface, your reflections missing. “They haven’t for awhile now.”

“Huh? Damn, I didn’t even notice.”

“It’s nice right? We could do anything we wanted, and they wouldn’t know.” He moves you further away from the crowds. “I could kiss you...I fuck you right here, and they wouldn’t be the wiser,” he teases, “That is...if you can keep quiet.” You wore the perfect outfit, his hand travels down to your exposed thigh.

“You drunken idiot.”

“If I kiss you, would you stop me?”

“Find out,” you challenge.

“The mission first.” He pulls away from you. You realize your hand had absentmindedly snaked its way around Taehyung’s neck when he removes it and places your palm on the wall next to you.

“You’re giving me mixed signals, Mayor.”

“Knock down all the paintings on this wall.”

You sigh, running your finger along the wall. “Fine.” The row of paintings fall when you point down earning frightened yelps from those in attendance who are closest.

“You could destroy this whole museum without even trying,” he whispers, shamelessly eyeing you up and down. “So fucking hot.”

Taehyung holds your shoulders, pushing you against the newly bare museum wall and then kisses you, devouring your lips so roughly your head knocks against it, hands wrapping back around your waist until you’re pressed so tightly together you’re melting into his embrace and Taehyung knows you’ve stopped thinking about your damned superhero. 

The remaining three walls suddenly become bare when Taehyung presses his knee up between your legs. “Shit,” you manage to calm yourself down as the Museum’s curator goes into hysterics.

Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind, his head buried in your neck. Everyone is ushered into the adjoining room. “We should help,” you stutter.

“They got it handled, isn’t this more fun?”

Once the room is cleared, only staff remain, frantically trying to figure out what to do. That’s when you see him, the wide eyed teleporter in a fancy black suit similar to other staff members. He works quickly and discreetly, switching out real paintings with fakes. Everyone was so tense and focused on their task, no one even noticed the slight changes in his stance. You watched mesmerized, watching Jungkook work was like watching a video skipping frames, a real time glitch in person.

“How many originals are you taking?”

“What if I took all of them?” he smirks.

You roll your eyes. It is true that there have been shady dealings, but Taehyung hadn’t quite figured out which paintings were fakes, his solution? Steal them all, make them all forgeries.

“He’s lurking outside of the South entrance.” You can feel Namjoon, it is…nice to think about him. Sometimes you wonder if he can sense when you do this, if he can feel your presence as if you were holding him. “Now?” you ask Taehyung, ready for action.

“No, change of plans-”

“What?” you hiss.

“Relax, you’ll still get what you want-”

“You know I don’t like being left out!”

“Ohoho, when you begged me to leave the others out of-”

You grab a nice chunk of Taehyung’s hair and yank. “That is different.”

“Yes, yes, it’s different...” You watch his Adam’s apple jump up as he swallows, his long neck outstetched and very enticing to lick, the sight makes you lessen your grip only slightly.

“What change?”

“Sorry love, we won’t be stealing anything-”

Taehyung has to be joking. You made a deal and if Taehyung goes back on it now, you’ll make him regret everything. “I have to get arrested-”

“Oh you definitely will.” You frown because he’s not making any sense.

“I know you hate it when we drag you into our politics. If I told you everything you were just going to be a brat about it,” he says. You blink, taking a deep breath, disappointed and annoyed. “It will still have the same effect! When they clean the paintings they’ll realize they are fakes.”

Huh? You groan, you reliaze exactly what Taehyung...no, V and the rest of those ecoterrorists want to do. “This new plan is fucking lame. You know this kind of shit goes right over people’s heads?” You have heard of this happening to other museums. Defacing art in the name of the environment definitely gets people talking, but you have to wonder if it actually changes minds?

“As long as they are talking about it, it keeps my clean energy proposal relevant, that’s what matters. If anything my proposal will look so much more reasonable in comparison, don't you think? Hoseok will do all the talking, you just have to make sure your aim hits.”

“I’m tired of being used as a pawn.” You glare at him, and then against his will, his fingers move of your own accord.

“Not a pawn,” Taehyung grunts, unsuccessfully fighting against your powers. “You’re a Queen…a Queen...”

“Queen huh,” Taehyung’s body goes rigid as he moves against his own will.

His head rests on your shoulder, then in between your breasts, moving down the front of your body, falling to his knees, head resting against your hip bone. This kind of tortuous play Taehyung could get used to.

You notice Mr. Art Critic and double agent 006 sense in the art curator’s ear, no doubt whispering persuasive white lies to further the plan along. Eventually you’ll move to the other room, where everyone left will be the perfect captive audience.

You could have sworn Seokjin looked right at you at one point, as if he can see you and his friend kneeling at your feet.

You lean against the wall, letting your anger subside. Eventually, you allow Taehyung to look up at you.

Sometimes you wondered who you were looking at, which version of Taehyung was staring back at you. This kind of occupation fractured people, or perhaps you all became broken that night in the forest, who you were supposed to be and who you became were shattered fragments held together by unimaginable power.

You run your hand through his hair, fixing the strands you messed up back in place. “You’re very frustrating.”

“Have I ever not given you what you wanted? This plan will work, you’ll get your white knight back as a black knight.”

You swallow, your will to fight against Taehyung diminishing less and less until you let go of your mind hold on him all together.

This little plan of yours might be drastic, but the gentle approach when dealing with RM never works. But unlike Taehyung, you don’t need Namjoon to turn dark, just...understand you. You can do this, play this game you and Taehyung have set up. You just have to push Joon just a bit, but not let him be captured by your side. A Queen can move anywhere across the board after all, the Queen is more powerful than the King.

“You don’t have to stay on your knees,” you eye the very handsome man caressing your legs.

“We have plenty of time,” Taehyung’s lips graze your exposed thigh.

“Fuck,” you murmur, looking around. No one even looks in your direction. You look down at the man in between your legs, so willing to stay on his knees for you. You should focus on the mission. You need to make yourself available, but all you could focus on were the small electrical currents of pleasure caused by Taehyung’s slow and determined caresses.

His fingers are a shock to your system when he drags his hand under your dress, pressing into your heat suddenly.

This is the last time, the last time Taehyung will have any power over you.

You hoped. 

---

“RM, hey! My kid’s a big fan, do you think I can get an autograph.”

“Err yeah sure, what’s going on-”

“Can I get an autograph too?”

“Did I say you could speak? Shut your goddamn mouth,” the officer yells at you and you pout, flinching when he reaches for you.

“What happened? The museum, there was an event, right?” Namjoon tries to remain calm, grabbing the officer’s attention again, purposely making sure he doesn’t touch you. Namjoon had been preoccupied, distracted by an accident that had nothing to do with your plans but worked in your favor, a family that needed urgent medical attention after a car crash, as RM was quicker than any ambulance and stronger than the jaws of life, he saved them just in time.

“These two lunatics crashed it.” He gestures to you and Hoseok, sitting handcuffed on the ground, your dress torn at the slit and across the collar at your resisted arrest and Hoseok with a busted lip. “Not only that, once they realized they were cornered they defaced everything with paint-”

“It was actually gazpacho,” you interject.

“Yeah yeah, and that’s called a felony charge,” he reminds you and you roll your eyes. “His name is Daniel, you can put Danny, he’d love that.” He hands Namjoon a piece of paper. “You can take this one,” he tells his partner, pointing at Hoseok, “I’ll take her in.”

The officer looks down at you, eyes zoning in on your cleavage, and Hoseok makes himself heavy on purpose when his partner grabs at him, unwilling to leave you alone. You try to wrap your legs around his calf when he is pulled away, neither of you able to grab on to each other with your hands handcuffed.

“Goddammit!” the officer yanks you up by the elbow causing you to cry out in pain. Namjoon holds you up, unable to stop himself from interfering.  “Don’t worry, RM, I got it handled,” the officer says, trying to grab you again. “That’s two counts resisting arrest already,” he yells in your ear,  “Do you want to add a third?!”

“Why yes, officer, I would,” you mock, trying to twist your arm out of his hold.

You scream as he pushes you against the side of his patrol car.

Namjoon’s chest feels tight, his teeth hurting from how hard he’s clenching his jaw. 

Again RM steps in, “Shouldn’t you be more gentle on her-”

“She’s overreacting, these girls love to cry crocodile tears, don’t fall for it,” he dismisses. You cry louder, rattling the superhero to his core.

The officer shoves you in the back of his vehicle, slamming the door shut, and you stomp your heel into his window, cracking it on impact, something that should have been physically impossible to do on bullet proof glass, but remarkably easy with your powers.

“What the hell! Crazy bitch,” he mutters under his breath. “That's another charge! Vandalism to a police vehicle!” he bangs on the window with his fist, cursing.

“I should go with you, in case something goes wrong,” Namjoon hands back his hastily scribbled signature.

“What could go wrong?” he laughs. “Nah, it’s gonna take me some time,” Namjoon tries not to think the worst when the officer mumbles out a convoluted excuse, “Anyways, you can fly! What wouldn’t I give to be able to fly-”

“I’ll follow behind your car.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he says curtly. “Like I said, we’re good here, RM. You wouldn’t want people to suspect anything like tampering with police proceedings, right?” The officer makes it a point to emphasize his thinly veiled threat. You sit up when he starts the car, looking at the superhero with pleading eyes.

Of course Namjoon followed you.

The superhero stayed high in the air, right above the police cruiser.

Namjoon knew you could get out of this. So why weren’t you! You were really going to let yourself get caught just like you told him? Fuck, why were you letting it really happen?

Namjoon, an annual pass holder to the museum, had built a nice friendship with many of the older women curators as such a regular visitor. So they would sometimes offer him discounted tickets on nights like tonight where he could get to see newly curated artwork before the general public, an opportunity the art enthusiast could rarely pass up on, even if the tickets did cost a small fortune.

Namjoon had, however, not anticipated this kind of event would be taken over by V and he surely had not expected the sight of you. But you had a knack for dropping back into his life and leaving him reeling. You had a knack for confusing him too, making him question himself and his actions over and over again, and all those agonizing questions he had were about to be answered...

-

Namjoon tails the police cruiser turns down an alley, watching as the headlights turns off and the engine stops as he parks.

You could escape now, it would be the perfect time, Namjoon thinks. The driver door opens and the officer circles the vehicle, pulling out his firearm.

You need to escape, you have to. This wasn’t about the paintings anymore, this was wrong. 

Jungkook was going to come, right? Hop you away from punishment like he always did. Where was he? Or any one of them? 

They should be protecting you! Namjoon didn’t think he could despise V any more, but the fact that he couldn’t even properly safeguard you when his plans went awry made Namjoon’s blood boil.

Yet, he found himself desperately wishing Taehyung would reveal himself.

Right now. Right now!

Namjoon clenches his fist.

He watches as the officer opens the back door, pistol aimed right at you, crawling into the backseat and on top of you.

---

You wash Namjoon’s hands under cold water silently until the bleeding stops.

“I was going to kill him.”

“No, you weren’t,” you remind him, holding his hand as you work to heal his knuckles. 

“If you hadn’t stopped me-”

“I didn’t do much,” you laugh solemnly.

“I should...turn myself in,” Namjoon says dejectedly.

“Are you crazy? So you can go to jail with every criminal you put away?! Everyone will know your identity, what if they go after your family- No, if you even dare try something so stupid, then I’ll…run a rampage in the city!” you threaten, serious even if it sounded ridiculous.

Namjoon looks up at you, eyes softening. “We have to tell the Chief of Police. They should know…what he was going to do to you…” Namjoon couldn’t even say it, disgusted all over again, his anger rising.

“You saved me before he did,” you mumble. “They protect their own, you know that,” you sigh, “If we do that I’ll just end up getting arrested again, probably by one of his friends. Don’t worry, Joon. Jin will get to him, alter his memories so we don’t have to deal with them again, he’s gotten pretty good at it.”

Seokjin...Namjoon felt a bitter taste in his mouth that it was Jin who was going to deal with that bastard and not himself. You can see the torment raging in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you...do something?”

You flick him on the forehead. “You know, if I didn’t have my powers-”

“You do, you do! You could have-”

“What? Escaped? Were you planning on capturing me to hand me over to the police yourself?” you try to lighten the mood.

Joon rests his head on your shoulder. “...I would have let you go.” Namjoon scoffs, sighing. “You...weaken me. I was going to kill him, I-I still...” Namjoon has to calm down, he has to be better. But all he could think about was seeing that officer over you, rage filling inside him so quickly he reacted before even thinking. He yanked the door off its hinges and grabbed the officer with all intent to stop him from ever doing that to anyone ever again. 

There was so much blood.

You lean your head against his. “I’m sorry. The way things are…going against them, it doesn't make you a bad person. Sometimes justice is unlawful…”

Namjoon didn’t know what to say.

“Joon?”

“Yeah?”

You pause. “Now…can you try to understand…why…I…” you take a deep breath, “...why I killed The Mayor? He was going to do something…horrible to you. How could I not protect you? Can’t you forgive me? Please?”

“And everything else you’ve done since then?” Namjoon can’t meet your eyes, clenching his jaw. 

“I admit, yes, I’ve made some…bad decisions since then. Killing the Mayor was not one of them.”

You admitted your wrongdoings, that was something Namjoon could cling to for now. “You can use my shower, to clean up.” he whispers, looking down at your torn dress. “I’ll bring you one of my shirts.”

“Can I ask a um favor?” You look around his small bathroom, thinking about the last time you had been in his home, feeling the pain in your chest become sharper. 

“I don’t want him to be the last person who kissed me, so-” Namjoon pounds his fist on the bathroom sink, breaking the marble. “Yah!” You grab his hand again. “I just fixed your hand!”

He hugs you close to him, letting the scent of you calm him down. The smell of your hair, the remnants of your lotion, even the salty scent of your unwashed skin, he likes. He almost resists when you pull his head away, not wanting to stop breathing you in.

He looks into your pleading eyes, your awaiting lips, your abated breath, you have always been his weakness.

His mouth captures yours, letting his lips mold together with yours. You pull him in closer, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lifts you up into his arms. 

“Don’t stop, please,” you say desperately, wrapping your legs around his torso, reaching for the shower curtain and pulling it open.

He steps inside the bath as you attempt to unzip the back of your torn dress. Namjoon lets you stand, helping you pull the tight dress off your shoulders. You run your lips across his neck, kissing his jaw, his cheek, any part of him you could reach, needing to leave your mark on him.

The water runs red as the showerhead washes the blood off RM’s suit. You reach around his back, removing the offending material. Namjoon kisses your exposed shoulder, the warm water relaxing his tense muscles. He wishes he could forget tonight and remember only this moment with you. 

The more he touches you, the quicker the hopeless feeling in the pit of his stomach is replaced with a desperate ache to have you. Your soft moans extinguish the white hot anger inside of him, simmering it down so he can only feel the heat of your bodies, the steam of the shower and the wetness of your slick mixed with water. 

He caresses your skin, memorizing the lines of your face and the fullness of your cheeks, the specks in your irises. It's been too long, he curses his forgetfulness.  

“Joon?” you look at him worriedly, he looks like he’s about to cry, and you can’t be sure he wasn’t already, wondering if the shower water running down his face might be concealing his tears.

You should feel guilty, you should feel ashamed, but fuck...he’s here with you, you have him, Namjoon was what really made you feel less broken. But if you were breaking him in the process...Fuck, fuck! You’ll find a way to fix it!

He crashes his lips against yours once again, refusing to let you go until you’re both gasping for air.

You laugh when he slips, using your powers to catch him and press his body to yours.

He hikes up your leg, moving quickly, needy and desperate, with an urgency like he needs to prove something to you, to himself. He holds you too tight, ruts into you so hard, fingers digging into your legs painfully, crushing you against tile.

You grind your teeth, keeping your mewls silent as his thick cock stretches you out. He pulls you closer to him, thrusting in so deep and hard you know you’re going to be sore, and you want it to never end.

You hold onto his shoulders, nails digging into his back, hoping you’ll leave marks, something that will make him think of this moment and want you all over again.

You lean your head back, pull him in by the neck, leading his mouth to your throat, tightening against him when he sucks on the sensitive skin under your jaw.

It feels too good, it feels too right, you quiet your worries, you silence your doubts, hold him tighter.

He’s close, you can feel him swell inside you, his head bumping into yours as his rhythm picks up. You moan out his name encouragingly, wanting more.

You’re shivering and feverish all at once, chasing your release with him, goosebumps blooming over your wet skin, the aching inside your chest turning into molten lava, flowing straight down and spreading warmth across your stomach, the place your bodies connect throbbing until you can’t think straight.

You snap into a million burning sparks, all ignited by Namjoon.

He slips again, falling with you. 

“You’re so clumsy,” you smile, holding your bodies up a few centimeters above Namjoon’s tub as the superhero catches his breath, head buried in your neck, his body tightly wrapped around yours.

---

“Y/n!” Seokjin runs to you first, “Are you okay?! What happened?!” He grabs your head, running through your thoughts.

“W-Well…” Aish, you did not want to remember all of that! And you felt a little embarrassed as the rest of the night replayed in your head. Seokjin doesn’t seem too angry or bothered, hugging you close.

“You weren’t there. And the scene we found was…” Jin falters, “troublesome.” 

“Jin went a little ballistic,” Jungkook adds, hugging you next. “We all thought something terrible happened to you.”

“His thoughts…I could barely make sense of them, he seemed to have suffered some brain damage. I thought he…never mind.” 

Hoseok hugs you next. He notices the bruises on your legs, “Shit, he fucking hurt you.” 

“I’m fine! I’m fine,” you stutter, glancing over to Jin who stays quiet, thankfully not outing what really happened to you. “I’ll fix that, okay?” You wince at his busted lip. “Sorry for disappearing,” you say sheepishly, “Were you able to ‘change’ his mind?”

“Well, I don’t think he is going to be doing much on the police force…or much of anything.”

“Damn, what did you do?!”

Seokjin stays uncharacteristically silent. “The guy wouldn’t stop screaming, and Jin wouldn’t let go of him,” Jungkook speaks up. “Taehyung wants me to take you to him. He said as soon as you came back-”

“I can’t go right now. I have to heal Hoseok and also, I don't want to,” you add.

“She’s not going,” Yoongi says, holding your cheek as he looks you over. Jungkook has no choice but to relent.

“I’m fine, nothing actually happened-”

“I watched the cameras...the way RM reacted...Jin was pretty convinced-”

“You think I can’t handle some creep? There was no way he was going to get away with that, okay? So don’t look at me like that…please, it makes me feel pathetic,” you whine, running your hand over his furrowed brow. 

“We have another problem,” Yoongi says, pulling your hand away. 

He holds up his phone. “Oh what the fuck.” 

“It’s every trending topic on local news.”

Fuck! You knew you forgot something. Pictures of Taehyung and you were reposted over and over, with headlines like, ‘The Mayor’s Mysterious New Girlfriend.’ Even pictures of you together at night looking at the lights…

Oh no…

Yoongi scrolls through blurry pictures of you kissing Taehyung. 

Oh shit…

“Can’t you erase it?!”

“If it had been only one or two sites, maybe. Now that it's all over the net, it's impossible.”

“I am not ‘The Mayor’s girlfriend,’” you plead to Yoongi.

But it had always been the plan. Yoongi knew it had always been what Taehyung wanted, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. “You look good together.”

“No we don't! I can’t stand him, I don’t like him, Yoongi.” You wanted to say you liked him instead, but the words caught in your throat at his next question.

“And Namjoon?”

“What?”

“Where were you all night?”

You keep your mouth shut tightly, looking away.

“When Seokjin said Namjoon took you, I was relieved. After what happened to you, I knew you would want to be with Joon most of all. Still, I was hoping you might come back. I was hoping I could have been enough,” he holds your cheek one last time.

You want to scream and cry, ask Yoongi for forgiveness, but you knew you didn’t deserve it. Even ‘I’m sorry’ feels like a hollow gesture. “Don’t look at me like that,” he sighs, mustering up a smile, “It makes me feel pathetic.”

-

‘Vandals Escape after Destroying Museum Full of Art.’

‘Art Under Attack! Environmentalists Ask What is Worth More, Your Future or Your Art?

‘Mysterious Crater found on City Outskirts, Aliens?’

‘Art Gallery Embroiled in Forgery Allegations.’

‘Controversial Energy Bill Set to be Approved.’

‘Mayor Kim’s Mysterious First Lady.’

“When asked about the ‘new woman’ in his life, Mayor Kim acts impartial for the first time in his political career. Though, he hints they may be more than an item, adding next election there might be a first lady by his side.” You read the article to Taehyung, fuming. “Why in the hell would you say something like that? I am never going to be your girlfriend, in fact, I am beginning to despise you.” You want to throw your phone at Taehyung’s head. 

Taehyung crosses his arms, leaning back on his office chair. “I just need you for a couple public appearances here and there, it’s not the end of the world to be seen with me, you know.”

“No-”

“You owe me,” he lowers his voice, anger contained to the few slowly spoken syllables. 

“This is not what I had in mind,” you argue, surprised at his demeanor.

“No, but it is what I want. I gave you what you wanted, didn’t I? You even have my friends worrying about you. Did you enjoy all the attention?”

“Fuck you. It wasn’t like that.”

“I’m not judging! I’m impressed. Your twisted plan worked. You even turned me into the bad guy, everyone is still mad at me for what happened to you,” he says, clicking his tongue. For the first time in years Taehyung feels the tight bonds around his friendships loosening and he doesn’t like it at all. 

Intentionally or not, you had weaved yourself in their lives, loosened the strings yourself. It was your fault and he was going to tie you to him one way or another, and he was going to make it suffocatingly tight, make you depend on him to breathe.

“You are the bad guy,” you whisper.

“Yeah…” he puts his hands in his pockets, looking down at you. “You’re really evil, then. Don’t you think we’d make the perfect pair?” It’s not in a teasing manner. He’s serious. He doesn’t shy away from you, only watches you slowly fall apart in front of him.

Tahyung’s happy encouraging smile makes your insides twist. You ruined a man. In your opinion, he dug his own grave, but you gave him the shovel, placed him atop his plot. But he did it! So why did you feel so dirty?

Were you really the evil one?

Taehyung thought so. The way he looks at you, relishing in the fact you did something so twisted, it makes your skin crawl. Maybe you were where you should be, in the dirt, in Taehyung’s arms.

“I changed the plan for you, y/n. I would do anything for you.”

“No...you knew this would happen, that’s why you let me go with Joon, right?” Fuck, it had been your idea, so why did it not feel like you had any control?

His lips on the crook of your neck made you feel helpless. 

When Taehyung explained the plan to you, you saw an opportunity. Steal the paintings, get arrested, escape before reaching the police station. Taehyung told you Namjoon would be in attendance.

Taehyung wanted you to distract him. You resented becoming the decoy. You asked the question, “What if RM becomes my escape?” It intrigued Taehyung, so you continued. Taehyung hated RM’s annoying altruism, you also wanted Namjoon to make a selfish decision, one for you, two birds struck with one stone. “Find me a cop with a history...”

You were never in any real danger, you could have stopped him yourself easily, but you begged Taehyung to make sure the others left you alone. He made them believe it was his mistake, a miscommunication between him and you. 

You knew Namjoon would free you if he had a good reason. Was it so bad to want him to see how not everything can be solved by the books? If he could just understand that, understand where you were coming from…

Hoseok was hurt because of you, you still feel guilty about it. Namjoon and Seokjin almost killed a man because of you! Sure, that man ultimately decided to abuse his power over you, but you egged him on in the back seat, did everything you could to make him snap. You wanted him to snap.

You wanted destruction.

And perhaps some part of you deep, deep down wanted Namjoon to kill for you like you did for him. You just missed him so damn much, felt so small and unsure of your place in his heart. But in the end you stopped him, you couldn’t let him become like you, ignoring that horribleness growing inside of you.  

“Night events only,” you concede. Grabbing him by the collar, you add, “Don’t expect me to be on your damn campaign trail.”

V smirks. “That’s my girl.”

---

IT'S GETTING MESSY. Team V or Team RM?

#taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung fanfic #Taehyung smut #namjoon smut #bts fantasy au #bts superhero au #bts supernatural au #namjoon x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon angst #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x you #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x you

[trans-reader-fics]

Safety — fatherly!Castiel x trans!reader (he/him)

TW/CW: Transphobia, dysphoria, canon typical violence, swearing, mentions of s/icide, references to sh.

Summary: (y/n) ran away from his transphobic home and unknowingly stumbled into a djinn’s lair. Thankfully, the Winchesters and their angel were there to help him. 

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

(y/n) shoved his clothes into a worn out duffel bag. He couldn’t stay for any longer; this house was suffocating him, draining him of his will to live, and it became an undeniable fact that he was not welcome anymore. The people who raised him surrendered their title of parents by issuing him an ultimatum. He could either shove himself back into the closet, resigning himself to a suicidal fate, or get the fuck out of their life. So get the fuck out he would. 

He rummaged through every pocket he owned, scraping together as much spare change as possible. He had enough to buy a bus ticket out of town, far away from anyone who knew him. The prospect of nobody caring enough to look for him lingered in the back of his head, only strengthening his resolve to leave. He would not be missed. He would not be hurting anyone.

It would be cheaper to just off yourself. Really, it’s a huge waste to put all this effort in when there’s an easier way out. He entertained these thoughts for longer than he should have, dwelling on them as he walked out the door and began his new life. It was a long walk into the city.

By dusk, (y/n) was exhausted. He had been walking for hours, and in the distance, he saw a warehouse. In better circumstances, he would never consider it. But as it grew nearer, he realized just how heavy his body was, and how dearly he just wanted to collapse into bed.

The warehouse door was already open and (y/n) walked right in. He tiptoed deeper into the building, stepping over empty bottles and cigarette butts. Finding an isolated corner, he curled up against the wall and searched his bag for a blanket. “Damn it,” he grumbled, settling for covering his body in an oversized hoodie. Whispering voices kept him awake for a little while, but he drifted off to sleep, blaming the hisses on his exhaustion. It had been a long day, and he always did have an overactive imagination.

“(y/n)!” His mother called for him. “Wake up, you’ll be late for school!” He stretched and blinked the sleep out of his eyes, before promptly falling back into bed. He hears stomping up the stairs, but he’s not afraid. She pulled the blankets off of him, lovingly ruffling his hair. “Hey! Another late night?” she laughed, her voice tinkling like bells. “C’mon, breakfast is on the table. I’ll drive you, so you don’t have to catch the bus.” She pulled the curtains open, revealing the beginnings of a sunrise. He groaned, rolling out of bed and onto his feet. 

“I’m awake, I’m awake. Had a long night,” he yawned. “Looking for scholarships.” He began pulling on his clothes as soon as he stepped into the bathroom, tugging on a binder and black jeans. “Hey mom?” He popped his head out of the bathroom door, catching his mother right before she descended the flight of stairs. She smiled gently, turning to face him. “I love you.”

“I love you too, hon. Now hurry up! Your food is getting cold.” He laughs before closing the bathroom door and putting the rest of his clothes on. He was so much more confident now that he was out of the closet. Everyone in his life was supportive, and a warmth radiated in his chest. He ran downstairs to eat his breakfast. He approached the kitchen, seeing his father sitting in the same place he always did. 

“Good morning son,” he smiled over his laptop, the clicking of the keys never ceasing. “You might be a little bit late for the bus.” He checks the little white clock hanging over the stove. 

“I’m driving him, honey.” His mother comes over and kisses her husband on the cheek. “Speaking of which,” she looks up at her son. “We gotta head out soon, okay?” She smiled, but it wasn’t right. Something wasn’t right. “(y/n), o-” 

“-kay? Are you okay?” a deep voice asked. “Hey, can you hear me?” (y/n) groaned as someone placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Head hurts.” He grimaced as he tried to open his eyes. “Who are you? I was having such a nice dream.” 

“We,” the man paused, “We’re the Winchesters. You were kidnapped, and monsters found you. But it’s okay, you’re safe now. The monsters are,” the man paused, “dead, they’re dead.” (y/n) finally managed to open his eyes, and he looked around the room. It was even darker than before, but the building looked the same.

“Kidnapped?” He mumbled, still woozy. “That can’t be right, I’m in the same place. I fell asleep. I need to catch the bus out of here.” He felt for his jacket pocket, discovering that he no longer had a coat on, just a loose t-shirt. “Oh fuck. Where’s my coat?” He began to shift, but the man holding him kept him in place. “Hey, let go of me.” He tried to push him off, unsuccessfully. “Let go of me, where’s my fucking coat?” It had been a long time since he had worn only a short sleeved hoodie, although there were seemingly bigger issues at hand.

A tall man with long hair held up a jacket, his jacket, and fished through the pockets. He pulled out a knife, which he placed on a nearby table, and then found the bus schedule. “Uh, Dean?” The tall one looked at his...brother? and pointed at his ticket. “This bus left over 24 hours ago.”

(y/n)’s eyes widened and he bolted up, catching even Dean by surprise. “My bus left? I slept for over a day? What the hell is going on right now?” 

The tall one bolted over to the distressed teen. “Woah. Let’s start closer to the beginning. My name is Sam, Sam Winchester. That one is Dean, he’s my brother. What’s your name?”

(y/n) took a few deep breaths before answering. “My name’s (y/n). I wasn’t kidnapped.”

Dean looked at him, head tilted in confusion. “Where did that come from?” 

“You said I was kidnapped,” he grumbled. “Earlier, when I was lying over there. I wasn’t. I fell asleep in this warehouse. Not,” he paused, his voice trailing off as he thought. “Not over here, but it’s definitely the same place.”

Dean looked at his brother, then back at (y/n). “Okay, well then, where do you live? We’ll take you home, back to your family.”

(y/n) scoffed, his legs shaking as he walked over to his jacket. “Nope,” he slid the knife back into his pocket. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I need a ride into town.”

“(y/n),” Sam shot a pleading look in his direction. “It’s not safe, you’re a kid. Just let us take you home.”

“Look, I’ll spell it out for you. I was kicked out. I’m not welcome there anymore, and even if I was, I’m fucking done. I’m not going back.” He sighed, shrugging his coat on. “Sucks, but it’s what I’ve got.” 

Dean huffed in exhaustion. “Look, we’ll drive you home, explain to your folks that you almost died. If they still don’t want you, then we’ll drive you to the bus station and you’ll be on your merry way.” 

“Oh, please.” (y/n) rolled his eyes. “Skip the denial. Just drive me into town, and if you really feel that bad for me, I wouldn’t say no to a bagel.”

Dean stared at the kid and tapped at his phone, speed-dialing a number. “Cas,” he grumbles. “Sam and I need you. There’s a stubborn kid, and neither of us can talk any sense into her. Come do some angel shit or something.” Instantly, a man materialized in between them. 

“Woah,” (y/n) breathed out, “What the hell?” The angel grabbed his arm, and walked them into a different room. 

“You’re unhappy. Will you tell me why, or do I have to find it myself?” He stared straight at (y/n), his blue eyes barely blinking. 

“That’s blunt of you,” he laughed. “Look, I don’t feel like getting into it. Sure, do whatever.” The man reached over, pressing his hand against (y/n)’s forehead. 

Kicked out. Kicked out. Unloved. Die. Die. Die. Kill yourself. Die. Unwanted. He. He. He. HE. I want to go home. I don’t have a home. Please. Help me. Help me. Kill me. Fucking kill me.

He pulled his hand away. “You’re coming home with us. We have a,” the dark haired man paused. “We call it the bunker. You’ll be safe. I will make sure of that. They will understand.” He begins to walk away, still holding on to (y/n)’s arm.

“What’s your name?” He whispers. “And why are you helping me?”

“Castiel. My name is Castiel, and I am an angel.” He pulled the child back into the first room, where the brothers stood, waiting.

“Well?” Dean groaned, arms crossed. “Where does she live?” (y/n) flinched slightly, but Cas only stood up straighter.

“We’re taking him to the bunker.” With that, Cas led (y/n) out of the warehouse, and sat him in the backseat of the Impala, sliding in next to him. “I will not let anyone hurt you,” he whispered. “You’ll be safe with us. They will accept you. Now sleep.” 

(y/n) glanced at him, skepticism in his eyes. Cas saw this, and he slipped his trenchcoat off, draping it over the teenager’s body. 

“Thank you,” he whispered before dozing off, leaning into Cas’s side. 

He awoke to the slamming of car doors, and the faint noise of arguing. “We can’t keep the kid,” Dean shouted under his breath. “We aren’t parents, and if you haven’t noticed, we kind of have bigger things to deal with right now.”

“Dean.” The angel stated, opening the door to the backseat. “This is not a discussion. I can take care of him, and you were not the one to see inside his head.”

“So tell me,” he begged. “Make me understand.”

Tell him, (y/n) thought. It’s okay, Castiel. You can tell him. Almost as if he heard (y/n)’s thoughts, Cas replied.

“(y/n) is what humans call transgender. His parents were not pleased with this, and he is unable to return to where he used to live. I’m sure you understand that feeling.” He gently readjusted his jacket so that it covered more of (y/n)’s body, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Dean froze in his steps, his furrowed brows and clenched jaw betraying his rage. “We’re keeping him. Let’s get him inside.”

He sat up slowly, eyes still heavy with sleep. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’ll be on my way tomorrow. I won’t be a bother.” Dean turned to look at him, and his face began to fall. 

“No need for that, kid. You’re staying. Besides, Cas would kick my ass if I let you leave.” He chuckled, while Cas let out a heavy sigh; (y/n) saw a hint of a smile cross his face as he did so.

“Rest, (y/n). We will talk more in the morning. For now, just rest.” Cas reached out and brushed a spare tuft of hair behind (y/n)’s ear. 

He woke in someone’s bed, in a tidy, barely lived in room, under blankets that smelled like cinnamon. As soon as he sat up, there were three knocks at the door. Dean walked in immediately after, and (y/n) could tell it was his room.

“Fuck,” (y/n) sighed, burying his head in his hands. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I stole your bed, didn’t I. Sorry, I should’ve taken the couch, I-”

“Hey, hey, kid it’s okay.” Dean smiled and sat on the side of the bed, next to his legs. “I offered, and besides, there’s plenty of rooms with beds in here. The bunker is huge.”

(y/n) opened his mouth to protest, but from the doorway, Cas cut him off. “We want to help you. Do you plan to keep fighting it?”

“I, um,” He took a deep breath. “I don’t trust favors. What do you want in return?”

“For you to try not to kill us.” Dean paused. “Sorry Cas. Wrong answer?”

“Wrong answer,” Cas confirmed, “But yes. Please don’t try to kill us. We want to help you, and you are welcome to stay with us. Indefinitely.”

(y/n) smiled. Something in Cas’s deadpan delivery made him trust the angel, and he started to get out of bed. “Thank you. All of you. I think...” he took a deep breath. “I think I’ll stay a while.”

#tw transphobia #cw transphobia #tw suicidal thoughts #tw dysphoria #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #supernatural x reader #supernatural x trans reader #x reader #x reader fanfiction #castiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel fanfiction #what the fuck is this honestly #ive had this in my drafts for so long #hurt comfort

[punkshort]

how is it that every series you write is better than the one before?! like seriously every series is so unique and interesting and now this new one? i can’t wait to read all for it!

I love you. This is so sweet!! You have no idea what a comment like this means to me! ❤️ I know you could have gone about your day and not said anything at all, but you chose to reach out and say something nice and for that, I'm so grateful.

But to (kind of) answer your question, I have a very overactive imagination and I just now in my mid-30s have finally found an outlet for it. So just a fair warning to all you 20-somethings reading this, you never actually grow up. We're all just pretending to be adults, so don't stress about "getting your life together" or feeling childish or whatever. Live your damn life the way you want, my babies. And write about that old man in compromising positions.

#ask #anon ask #ikwya fic

[hannah-the-red-head]

A Moon Knight Fanfiction…

But, where the Moon Boys are shipped with a Reader that’s Basically Yor Briar from Spy x Family

Who’s also a single mom raising a little girl with telepathic powers and has a dog with the power to see the Future.

Basically, I’m going to write the Moon Knight storyline but it’s reader insert Fanfiction where I ship the Moon boys (Marc, Steven and later Jake) with a single mom!Reader who has the skills, super enhanced strength, speed and flexibility of Yor Briar from Spy x Family.

Why?

BECAUSE I CAN AND WILL!!! *maniacal laughter*

Here’s how this is gonna go:

-Reader or Y/n Briar is a Black Widow turned Single Mom after retiring from S.H.I.E.L.D post Endgame. But in order to secure a better life for not only herself, but her daughter and sweetheart of a big dog, Y/n decided to take on one last mission that has the small group of three moving to London.

-Personality wise, Y/N is soft spoken, polite, kind, sweet and mature. She is innocent when it comes to love, becoming easily flustered and losing control over her own actions. However, when going on missions, her personality does a complete 180, becoming a natural born killer that’s calculated, cold and just plain terrifying.

(A better way to describe Y/n’s mindset is the moment where Yor considered “getting rid of the competition” so Anya can get into Eden College or the times where Yor innocently overreacted to any public display of affection.)

-Appearance wise, Y/N can be whatever the readers imagine, I’m going to be very vague about how I describe her. But she is going to keep her hairstyle (long and kept up) and her outfits are the same as Yor’s in Spy x Family.

-She wears the Thorn Princess dress as her suit and wields stiletto blades as weapons.

-Y/N has the power of a super soldier, the reflexes of Spiderman and Black Panther and the mind of one of the world’s deadliest killers trapped in a petite woman’s body.

-Y/N tries her hardest to hide her secret life from her daughter. But how about you try and hide your association with the Avengers to a curious 6 year old with a overactive imagination.

-Y/n’s daughter, Anya (Full name: Anastasia Wanda Natasha Briar), is a mutant with the power to read minds, easily figures out that her mom is a super spy and that her favorite aunts are Avengers! Waku Waku!~ She reminds you so much of her father, eccentricities and all.

-As for the recent addition to the family, Bond is a big white dog that looks more like a mix between a polar bear and a seal with black mitten paws. Not only is he a big sweetheart, but much like his little master, Bond has the ability to see into the future that only Anya can translate because of her telepathy. He was named after Anya’s favorite super spy (in this case James Bond rather than Bondman.)

-As for the mission, which Nick Fury himself personally asked Y/N to accept, was an investigative one, the target being a mercenary that caught SHIELD’s attention after HYDRA’s infiltration was exposed.

-Unfortunately, the database hadn’t fully retrieved the idenity of the mercenary aside from his current location. Which is where you come in, to find this mercenary and try to recruit him to the New Avengers initiative.

-It’s the kind of mission Y/N can finish in two days, but this mission is proving a bit difficult, especially when said neighbor is so damn charming that Y/N is slowly falling for the sweet insomniac with a love for Egyptology.

#fanfiction #Anya Forger #Bond Forger #Spy x Family #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #Marvel #reader #character x reader #Moon Knight x Reader #Steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #Reader is one hell of a woman #Layla may or may not become bi at the end of this